George pulled back the tattered sheet. “The Ogdams’s son Nadir helped me bring him in from the greenhouse last night, but other than the positioning of the hands, he touched nothing, and I watched him leave.”
Edrice stepped closer, her face a mask of scrutiny. “Did you stand guard all night, um…?” She shot him a questioning look.
“Captain Solomon, of the Saphire Ducal Guard, but please, call me George. No, I did not, but the body appears to be in the same condition I left it in.”
Nodding, the High Priestess ran her fingers along the bruises and examined the wound above Tarek’s ear. “Strange. While this would have left him with a headache, the blow certainly wouldn’t have killed him.” She paused, giving Jax a grim smile. “You are right, though, Duchess. He was dead before he was hung from the noose.”
The confirming words sent a shudder down Jax’s spine. “Then we can all agree. This man was murdered, and there’s a killer among us.”
Chapter Thirteen
The five companions stood in silence for a moment as Jax’s words settled over them.
“Can you tell how he perished, my darling?” Ammon asked, placing a hand on the small of Edrice’s back.
Her graceful fingers unbuttoned Tarek’s fine linen shirt, revealing his strong chest. “No wounds anywhere that I can detect.” She lifted an eyelid and peered into his lifeless stare. “His eyes aren’t discolored in such a way that would indicate strangling or various side effects from poisons.”
The mention of poison sparkled a gruesome memory in Jax’s mind. The face of her father, his tongue rotted away from death’s corruption, killed by one of their family’s most trusted friends. “What about on the inside of his mouth?”
Edrice gave her an intrigued look before parting Tarek’s cracked lips.
Perry jumped back, covering his eyes. “I did not need to see that before breakfast.”
Jax’s stomach roiled, too, at the sight. Tarek’s teeth and tongue looked as if they had been coated in black mold.
Edrice’s nose wrinkled at the stench. “I’ll admit I have never seen a reaction like this before. I’m not familiar with a poison that does this.”
Jax caught the skeptical look that appeared on George’s face. He was quick to hide it, but she knew him too well. Despite their conversation just minutes ago, Jax couldn’t be sure Edrice was telling the truth. “I’ve seen something similar stem from one ingesting bloodsleaf.”
“Bloodsleaf?” The High Priestess bit her lip. “I’m familiar with bloodsleaf, but if I recall correctly, it leaves behind a green residue, not black.”
“Perhaps something in the same family, then?” Ammon suggested, holding a handkerchief to his nose.
Jax glanced at the ceiling, picturing the rows of shelving containing dried leaves above them. “I wonder if he died due to an allergic reaction to one of Samira’s teas?”
Edrice shook her head. “No. The human body wouldn’t react in such a contained way if that was the case.” She hesitated a moment before continuing. “Although we cannot dismiss the theory of something having been added to his tea to kill him.”
Worry gnawed at Jax’s insides. Samira was such a sweet girl. Jax couldn’t picture her killing anyone, but her reluctance to marry Tarek did strike her as a viable motive. “We should speak to Samira. She might be able to tell us Tarek’s movements after dinner last night.”
George held up a hand. “We’re going to jump into assuming he drank poisoned tea? What about any food he might have eaten?”
While Jax would have liked to discuss the matter privately, away from the watchful eyes of Edrice and Ammon, she didn’t want to risk offending them. “We need to start somewhere.”
Ammon cleared his throat. “Start somewhere? Am I correct in stating you plan to look into this matter yourself, Duchess? Is that wise?”
Jax measured her thoughts. While she could swear Edrice and Ammon to secrecy about who she really was, she couldn’t very well justify looking into a stranger’s death as Lady Victoire. And while she could let it go and let Edrice inform the Ogdams about her suspicions that Tarek was murdered and let it unfold from there, her intuition told her something darker was at play. “Since I was the one to find Tarek’s body, I don’t think the Ogdams would think it suspicious for Lady Victoire to report the death to them.” She turned to face the Captain’s stern expression. “George, will you run upstairs and fetch the dye for Perry and me to apply to our eyes? We don’t want anyone else to guess our true identities.”
George bowed stiffly and departed, leaving Jax to her next task. Based on the way Ammon and Edrice were shifting on their feet, they knew what was coming. “I must ask you both to carry the burden of our secret a little while longer. Please treat me as you would any other guest. We cannot afford to make anyone suspicious.”
“After your willingness to aid our plight,” Edrice said, her eyes flashing with determination, “you have our word, bound by the gods. If you need any assistance, please do not hesitate to ask.”
Jax nodded gratefully. “When are you planning your departure from the Oasis?”
Ammon looked to his wife. “We had made preparations to head out tomorrow, but if you are in need of my wife’s expertise, we can spare a few more days.”
“Thank you. I realize your situation with Duchess Zaltor is dire, so I know the risks you are taking to stay and help.” Jax’s shoulders tightened. “Let us hope this matter is resolved swiftly.”
George reappeared at her side moments later, two small vials in his hands. “I ran into Ferran in the foyer. He said Abra and Samira were preparing breakfast, and it would be served in a half hour’s time.”
Jax took one of the vials, rolling it around in her fingers. “We need to get out of here, then. Samira will no doubt be using the pantry soon to make tea.”
“We’ll head out into the hallway first and intercept anyone who might be nearby.” Edrice threaded her arm through her husband’s. “We’ll see you at breakfast, Lady Victoire.”
Jax could have sworn the stoic, composed woman winked at her.
“Here, Perry, help me apply this.” She handed him the small concoction and tilted her head back. With a steady hand, Perry released a few drops from the vial into Jax’s amethyst eyes. The dye worked its magic quickly and within seconds, her eyes appeared a muddied hazel. While certainly not as bright and fierce as most noble houses, it did the trick. A few drops into Perry’s eyes, and once again, they were the newlyweds Lord and Lady Rapaste.
“Come, I want to find the Ogdams and let them know what’s transpired before everyone arrives for breakfast. They need to know there’s a killer on the loose.” Jax gathered her skirts and scurried up the cellar stairs, keeping a keen eye out to confirm they were still alone in this section of the house.
Perry pulled her closely to him as they entered the long hallway, following the smell of baked bread wafting from the kitchen. “What do you plan to tell them exactly?”
Jax kept her voice low. “I’m going to tell them what I stumbled onto out in the garden.”
“Leaving out the part about the poison?”
She nodded. “I want to gauge their reactions when I tell them about the hanging.”
“I’ll keep watch while you speak with them.” Perry placed his hand on the small of her back and propelled her forward through a set of swinging doors and into a huge kitchen.
Jax’s gaze swirled around the spacious room and landed on Samira pulling three round cakes from a stone oven. Sweat laced her forehead, and she wiped it away with the long linen sleeves of her gown. “Goodness, you must be boiling in that outfit,” Jax remarked as she got close to the blistering heat. Too late she realized she’d startled Samira, who promptly dropped one of the cakes onto the marble floor.
“Oh dear,” Samira whimpered as she scooped the crumbled goods off the ground. “Lady Victoire, Lord Rapaste, you gave me a fright. What are you doing back here?” A crimson flush spread across her cheeks as she surveye
d the damage to breakfast.
“That was careless of me to startle you like that.” Jax cringed at the mangled cake. “Lord Rapaste and his entire party will forfeit breakfast, so the other guests can enjoy these amazing creations.” She glanced longingly at the golden-brown tops of the two remaining sweetbreads. “We’ll just have toast and tea.”
“Nonsense,” Samira replied firmly. “My family and I won’t have time to enjoy these caramel sugar loaves anyway. There’s a lot of ground to cover today, and we’ll be working through the morning meal.”
Perry chimed in, his brow furrowed. “A lot of ground to cover? What for, might I ask?”
“We’re receiving Tarek’s entire family tomorrow to celebrate our engagement and tour the estate,” Samira said as she reached up and grabbed a jar of honey from one of the shelves above her baking station. “It will be the first time our entire families have met each other. Perhaps that’s why Tarek has been so on edge lately.”
Jax and Perry shared a quick look before she asked, “How so?”
“Well, he’s been very short with me, and with Father, too.” Samira wiped her hands on her apron, leaving a trail of flour behind. “He’s found so many things he deems wrong with the villa. It’s been wearing Father down. This place is his pride and joy, and to have Tarek rip into him on a daily basis about its condition has created a sea of tension.”
“Why is Tarek so concerned with the villa’s upkeep?” Jax wondered if Master Ferran could have grown tired of his future son-in-law’s critiques and acted upon it.
Samira poured honey and cinnamon into a small bowl and began to mix it together. “It’s rather baffling. He suddenly can’t wait to leave this place. I’m not sure why he cares about how it’s maintained once we’re gone.”
“Have you seen Tarek at all this morning?” Jax tried to keep her tone light and carefree.
Dabbing the mixture with the tip of her finger, Samira tasted her honeyed topping. “No. Mother woke me up at six and sent me straight down to the kitchen.”
“Do you usually prepare breakfast? Where are the other staff members?” Jax asked.
Samira bit her lip. “Well, over the past few months, Mother has insisted I handle things in the kitchen. She says it’s the best way to prepare me to run my own home. There used to be a few other kitchen workers to help clean up the mess, but Mother sent them away for the summer, since she thinks I can handle this all myself.”
Jax studied Samira for a moment, wondering if the girl was really blind to the truth behind the estate’s lack of staff. “I was hoping to speak to your mother and father. Do you know where they are?”
“They’ll be setting up the banquet hall. I’ll have this all out on the table in just a few minutes.” Samira set to work glazing the two edible cakes. “Mother likes to have breakfast promptly served at eight-thirty.”
Jax took Perry by the arm and led him out to the hall toward the room they’d had dinner in last night. “That poor girl,” she whispered. “She’s in for a rude awakening.”
Before Perry could respond, Uma and Hendrie appeared at the banquet hall entrance.
“Good morning,” Uma said, giving Jax a kiss on the cheek. In a low voice, she said, “George came upstairs and filled us in on what happened last night. Goodness, Jax, how do you keep finding yourself in these situations?”
Jax pulled back from her embrace and gave her a sheepish shrug. “I swear, I was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time.” She greeted Hendrie before pointing at the fancy doors leading to the dining area. “We’re about to go speak to the Ogdams about Tarek. Would you two mind standing here and keeping the other guests at bay?”
“Of course.” Uma nodded.
Hendrie offered her his arm. “Let us know if you need anything.” Together, they meandered to the middle of the foyer, obviously trying to be as nonchalant as possible.
“Now’s our chance.” Jax pushed open the door to the dining room and plastered a big smile on her face as Ferran and Abra glanced up from placing silverware on the elegantly decorated table.
“Lord Rapaste!” Ferran’s attention diverted directly to Perry. “Breakfast will be served in thirty minutes. Why don’t you and Lady Victoire take a short stroll of the gardens in the meantime? The temperature outside is still quite cool and refreshing.”
Abra came and stood behind her husband, her bright eyes narrowing as Ferran reached for her arm and squeezed it. They both wore traditional day robes made of fine linen, despite the hems and elbows being worn through from wear.
“Actually, Master Ferran,” Perry began, “My wife and I have already been on a walk through your gardens and, unfortunately, we have some terrible news.”
Jax inched her way closer, hoping to put the villa owner at ease with a sympathetic expression. “Last night, I came upon a very tragic scene in the greenhouse. I found Lord Tarek Killiam, dead.”
Abra’s hand whipped to her mouth, stifling a muted shriek. Ferran’s olive skin paled as his lips trembled. “Dead? How?”
Not wanting to outright lie to the grieving couple, Jax chose her words with care. “I found him hanging by a rope. I’m truly sorry.”
Ferran staggered back, falling into one of the dining chairs. “He took his own life? Why? Why would he do that?” He looked to his speechless wife for answers as she knelt beside him and cried softly into his lap.
“What will happen to Samira?” Abra finally said, her words a mere whisper. “Our daughter? She’ll be shamed alongside him.”
Jax observed the scene, her eyes bouncing back and forth from Abra to Ferran as they processed the news. Both seemed distraught, but Abra’s concerns about Samira’s reputation rather than her daughter’s feelings struck her as insensitive.
Ferran patted his wife’s head as he collected his emotions. “Samira will emerge from this shadow, of that I have no doubt. They were not yet married, so her ties to the Killiam family are not set in stone.” He shuddered. “However will we tell the Earl this grave news? He arrives tomorrow.”
Abra unleashed a sob. “What does this mean for us? For the villa?”
Ferran’s gaze darkened, and he shot a silencing look at his wife.
Jax jumped in, eager to figure out the meaning behind the exchange. “The Earl wouldn’t blame you for his son’s death, would he?”
With a sigh of resignation, Ferran met her curious scrutiny. “I wouldn’t put it past him. We’ve been corresponding for months about Tarek and Samira’s engagement, and unfortunately, because of our low standing among the noble families, Earl Killiam insisted if he were to let his only son and heir marry our daughter, certain stipulations would have to be made. If there is even a hint to suggest Tarek ended his life because of our arrangement, then the Earl could make life for us extremely difficult.”
“More than it already is?” Jax asked quietly.
Abra’s head whipped up, her eyes throwing daggers at Jax. “What are you suggesting?”
Jax’s confidence in her growing suspicions solidified. “Ogdam Oasis has been struggling financially for some time, hasn’t it?” She pictured the cheap wine barrels, the lack of staff, Samira being overworked, the frayed garments the Ogdams wore. “Was money part of the agreement between your family and the Earl?”
Ferran let out a long sigh before examining her closely. “You seem very perceptive for a young noblewoman.” He rubbed his eyes with weary defeat before meeting her gaze once more. “I wish money had been a part of the exchange, but no. The cost of marrying our daughter off to the son of an Earl was the deed to my familial estate.”
“Virtues.” Perry let out a low whistle.
Jax’s eyes widened at the drastic measure. “You planned to relinquish Ogdam Oasis?”
Ferran stood and pulled Abra to her feet. “Yes. The economy is not what it used to be here in Kwatalar. Our Duchess, with her decrees for neutrality, has made it very hard for visitors to enter our borders, and the villa has suffered because of it for years. I saw no other way to
save my family the embarrassment of selling the estate. The Earl and I agreed that although he would hold the deed, I would remain the Master Steward of Ogdam Oasis and maintain the property for guests. The mantle would pass to my son, and thus, our family tradition could carry on.”
“Why forfeit the Oasis? Why not sell the artwork you’ve curated?” Jax asked, curious about the man’s plans. “Or those diamonds Abra had dripping from her ears yesterday?”
Abra’s expression grew cold at the pointed remark. “My diamonds were sold months ago. What you saw yesterday was a cheap fake.”
Ferran reached for his wife to pat her on the shoulder, but she moved away. “Monsieur Louis has been selling our valuables over the years to help us stay afloat. Everything you see now is a reproduction of the original art.”
So, the Monteblanc painting she had spied was a fake. Her grandfather must have purchased the original from the Ogdams. Impressive reproductions. They had me fooled. Studying the troubled couple, Jax pitied their plight. “How did your children take the news about the deal you’ve made with the Earl?”
“They don’t know about it,” Ferran croaked. “How could I tell my son his birthright has been lost to another man?”
Or tell his daughter he’d used her as a bargaining chip. Jax’s heart ached for the young woman whose life had been a pawn for her father to move around the board. She knew the feeling.
“None of it matters now, I guess.” Ferran’s shoulders sagged. “Once the Earl learns his son has taken his own life, not only will our agreement be off, but even the Earl won’t be able to save the Oasis from ruin. He’ll be facing enough shame himself.”
Perry nudged Jax in the side and sent her a sharp look. He wanted her to come clean about the circumstances surrounding Tarek’s death.
Taking a deep breath, Jax clasped her hands together. “There is more to the story I need to share with you both.” She motioned for Abra to take a seat, just in case she was once again overcome with emotion. “Last night, after I found Tarek, my valet moved his body into the cellar with the help of your son, Nadir.”
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