A sob escaped Olavo’s flaking lips. “Anything you wish to know, I shall tell you.”
Jax shuddered at the thought of one of her courtiers breaking so easily in the hands of an enemy. All they had done to Olavo was keep him confined to sparse quarters and made him travel in a carriage. If that was all it took to break members of her court, Duchess Tandora best be keeping her secrets well protected.
“What does Duchess Tandora know about the rehabilitation of Cetachi?”
The topic of her question clearly surprised Olavo. As Delphinia’s private secretary, Olavo was privy to many matters of state, as the Duchess dictated her words through his hand. Jax wanted to know if Tandora had learned of Saphire’s military presence in the upstart duchy.
“The Duchess is aware that Darian Fangard works to establish his court, while holding elections in the civilized villages and towns to determine the representatives in each region.” Olavo’s words came out in a jumble, as he was only too eager to share what he knew. “During the spring, she issued a few trade agreements with the nation for lumber, in return for produce and wool. Other than the forests residing within its borders, Duchess Tandora cares not for the new duchy. She believes it will crumble within a year, allowing her to take the forests for herself.”
Jax tapped her chin in thought. “Anything else?”
Olavo’s bushy brows rose with confusion. “What else are you looking for, Duchess Saphire? As I said, Duchess Tandora spends little effort on Cetachi and its restoration.”
“Does she know anything about Cetachi’s armed forces?”
“Armed forces?” Olavo echoed in puzzlement. “Why, no. The nation is still quite young to develop even an adequate guard. Tandora assumes that if Cetachi requires military aid, it would reach out to one of its most stalwart patrons…Saphire or Mensina.”
A fissure of hope flared in Jax’s chest as she addressed the defeated man once more. “Delphinia has no knowledge that Cetachi is building an army of its own?” She chose her words carefully, so as not to reveal the hand Saphire had played in the decision.
Olavo’s golden eyes doubled in size. “What? No, that’s not possible!” he cried, his voice sounding eerily like the yelping of a small, pampered dog. “Cetachi barely can feed its own people, much less train and outfit an army.”
Jax’s confidence brimmed in her wily grin. So, the rumors she and her grandfather had helped spread throughout the realm had worked. Jax knew she’d have to thank High Courtier Jaquobie the next time she saw him, as the idea had been his to begin with. To conceal Cetachi’s rising power, he’d recommended scattering their silver-tongued spies to other duchies, making sure other nations in the political arena continued to underestimate Cetachi. Darian Fangard and his court would be written off by the rest of the realm, making the reveal of Cetachi’s power and might a devastating miscalculation to their enemies.
Olavo began panting, his anxiety evident. “Cetachi has amassed an army?”
Jax did not respond. “If you hadn’t guessed already, Olavo, I sent the summons for a War Council to each duchy. Can you provide any useful insight as to how Duchess Tandora might react?”
Olavo hung his head low. “She will obviously realize her plan to end your life has failed, Duchess.” He stifled another sob. “And my role in it.”
Jax snorted. “Even though you have not asked, your sister is safe and under the protection of the Ancient Faith.” She paused, catching a glimpse of relief on the man’s face. “So, the Duchess will not retaliate your failures against your only living relative.”
Olavo gazed up at her. “The Duchess will have bigger things to worry about, I suppose, but I am relieved Ines is out of her grasp.” His chains clanked as he wiped his watery eyes. “The Duchess will adhere to tradition, as tradition is what forced her to take such drastic actions in the first place.” He gave Jax a knowing look. “She does not appreciate the change going on in the realm, as she knows it will soon begin to affect her own rule. Already, the Tandorian people are badgering the Duchess’s courtiers during their village visits about being able to elect their own premiers.”
Satisfaction twitched on Jax’s lips as her chest filled with pride that people of the realm were demanding a better way of life for themselves. Although she had not forced her reorganized political system upon the other duchies, Jax hoped Saphire’s success with the village and town premiers would spread across the continent, fueling the public’s desire to live in a democratic way.
She continued her questioning. “If you had to guess, where would Duchess Tandora advocate for the War Council to be held?”
Olavo mulled over the scenario for a moment before responding. “Well, she’d know right away that you’d never allow for the council to be held in Beautraud, Savant, or Tandora. She and the Dukes would never agree to Saphire, Pettraud, Mensina, or Crepsta. Kwatalar would be the neutral choice, although she’d likely guess that you wouldn’t want to return to the duchy where your life had been threatened. That would leave Hestes, Zaltor, Lysandeir, and Cetachi. Hestes has always backed Saphire, so she wouldn’t promote meeting there, or in Lysandeir. Not only because of your ties to its crowned Duke, but because it would be miserable to travel there during the next few months, what with the snow. That leaves Cetachi and Zaltor…” Olavo trailed off, his eyes dancing around the room as he thought through the problem. “Zaltor would be, of course, ideal for Tandora’s alliance, as Duchess Zaltor is very close to signing her allegiance to the traditionists. But…” the nobleman’s face darkened, “whoever hosts the sovereigns will hold a great deal of power during the council. Zaltor could use that to her advantage and hold the leaders hostage. She has her own Ducal Guard and military strength to pull such a stunt off.” Olavo’s gaze finally rested on Jax. “So, because the Duchess believes Cetachi to be a struggling mess, she’d likely opt to meet in a duchy with no resources to hold her captive.”
It was all Jax could do to keep from victoriously thrusting her fist into the air. Olavo had outlined the exact same thought process she’d gone through herself when strategizing how she would approach the War Council. Her plans depended on the summit convening in Cetachi, and if Tandora would advocate for Darian to host the other leaders, Jax could assume the other rogue nations would do the same.
Keeping her triumph contained, she waved Olavo’s speculation away.
“I know the Duchess better than anyone, Your Grace,” he stated, his voice a low hum. “Please, believe the truth of my words.”
Looming over the enemy’s private secretary, Jax assessed the crumpled man for a moment, vaguely aware one of her palace servants had entered the hall, carrying a tray of goblets and a water pitcher. “We shall see.” Jax motioned the server forward, turning to her gathered courtiers. “Does anyone require a refreshment?”
It happened in an instant. The sounds of clattering silver and cascading water hit her ears first, before her eyes registered what was happening. The servant, eyes blazing like black wildfire, lunged, a glistening dagger catching the light of the flickering flames from the sconces.
Jax fell back as George’s strong arm tossed her away from the fray, like a child roughhousing with a rag doll. In a fluid motion, he was between his Duchess and the murderous servant, his own sword unsheathed from his side. As the Ducal Guard swarmed from the shadows, darting for the unhinged assassin, Jax untangled her arms from the billowing recesses of her skirts and shouted. “Do not harm him! We need him alive!”
At her call, George turned his attention a fraction away from the armed intruder, another window of attack opening before the other guards reached his side. The servant dove forward once more, only to be intercepted and restrained by George. The dagger tumbled to the ground, hitting the stone floor with a condemning clang as the Ducal Guards tackled the assailant.
“Duchess!”
“Your Grace?”
A chorus of horrified gasps buzzed in Jax’s ear as she stared at the dagger lying on the floor. Her breathing steadie
d itself as she appraised the gleaming steel, a thin veil of blood coating its blade. Her brow wrinkled with concern as pain shot up her left side.
“Jax?” George dashed to her side. “Are you hurt?”
Wordlessly, Jax shifted on the ground, pulling her left arm from behind her, where she’d braced herself as she fell. “Just landed on my arm the wrong way,” she managed through gritted teeth. She held up her wrist, assessing the damage. “At worst, I’ll have a nasty bruise. Virtues, I’ll have to come up with a better story than saying I fell on it.” Her laughter died on her lips as she focused on George’s deathly pale face. “But I saw blood on the dag—George!” she screamed, her amethyst eyes locking on the growing stain of crimson seeping from the left side of his tunic. “Call for the physician!” Jax screeched, scrambling to kneel at his side as George’s dark eyes started to fade. “Captain Solomon has been stabbed!”
Chapter Four
Jax stared listlessly at her plate, the mound of mashed potatoes and roasted pheasant untouched.
“You need to eat something, Duquessa.”
Jax couldn’t bring herself to meet Vita’s concerned gaze. “I’m not hungry.”
Uma’s hand rested on the Duchess’s trembling arm. “George will be fine. Charles is a skilled surgeon.”
“Who only just graduated from the Academy a few months ago,” Jax snapped, her temper getting the better of her. “I was a fool to send Vyanti away to Isla DeLacqua for so long.” Her head dropped with defeat into her awaiting palms as tears trickled down her cheeks.
“Sabine is assisting him, as well,” Vita pointed out, “and she studied alongside Mistress Lenora for many years in Pettraud.”
“Charles told us he’s stitched up wounds far grizzlier than the one George suffered,” Uma reminded Jax. “He’s confident the Captain will be patched up in no time.”
Jax glanced up at her friend, searching for the reassurance in her eyes that her words so freely offered. Uma’s brown gaze shone with conviction, stirring the crushed hope inside Jax’s heart.
Uma managed to send a grin her way. “Come on, eat. Can you imagine how mortified George will be when he learns he caused the Duchess of Saphire to lose her legendary appetite?”
With a sigh, Jax picked up her fork. “He’d probably sentence himself to the dungeons for the affront.” Stabbing at a juicy piece of meat, she twirled the tines of her fork in the air. “I’m just so angered by this senseless attack.”
Resuming her own meal, Uma took a bite of salad before commenting. “Were the guards able to get any information from the servant?”
Jax shook her head. “Not before the rogue killed himself. Charles found remnants of huxberry in the man’s mouth. The poisonous plant kills anyone who ingests it in within seconds. He must have had it under his tongue and swallowed it once the guards subdued him.” She shuddered, the memory of the crazed attacker collapsing dead on the ground beside an injured George fresh in her mind. “All the guards have been able to determine is that the man was new to the palace staff. He’d only been here a few weeks.”
Despite having scolded Jax for not eating, Vita pushed her own food around on her plate. “Has anything been found among his personal items that would explain why he did this?”
“No.” Jax set her fork down, the roasted pheasant still skewered and uneaten. “The master steward was able to tell us a few details about the lad. His name was Raulph. He was the son of a Tandorian innkeeper who left the duchy in search of work during the offseason.” Jax sighed. “The master steward was stunned to learn of Raulph’s deeds. He had been an outstanding employee.”
Uma and Vita shared an anxious look. “Do you think he was sent by Duchess Delphinia, Your Grace?” Vita asked, her voice a mere whisper. “To finish what she started by sending those blasted chocolates to Ogdam Oasis?”
Jax steepled her fingers together, her gaze trailing down the long, regal table that lined the banquet hall. “I would be a fool not to consider the possibility. However, it could be that the young man acted alone. Perhaps he does not look kindly on the change I’ve enacted since beginning my rule.”
“All you’ve done is given a voice to the voiceless. You’re the champion of the common-born, Jax. How could he take offense with that?” Vita protested.
Jax dipped her chin. “That’s why I’m inclined to think the lad was merely a puppet sent to assassinate me.” The words filled her with a crippling terror. “If George hadn’t acted as quickly as he did…”
Again, Uma’s hand was on her arm, stroking a soothing calm into her body. “There’s no sense in thinking about what might have been. You’re fine, and George will be back in top form in no time.”
Jax marveled at Uma’s stoic poise. It heartened her to witness how strong her friend had grown in the past years.
“This whole situation brings to light a troubling reality.” A new wave of terror rushed through Jax. “I am not as safe as I thought I was in my own home.”
“How do we proceed?” Uma asked. “Are you to be locked in your chambers while the Ducal Guard investigate all of the staff?”
“That would take time we do not have. And even then, how would we ever really know?” Jax reached for her goblet of mead and took a deep sip, letting the heat of the alcohol soothe her nerves. “From the sounds of it, this Raulph fellow gave no indication about his plans, and the master steward goes through a lengthy vetting process to ensure the right people are hired by the palace.”
Vita’s throated bobbed. “Then what will you do, Duquessa?”
Drumming her fingers on the table for long moments, Jax stewed on her plan. “I wish I could confer with George about this…but I think he would agree with my decision.” She surveyed her friends. “The Duchess of Saphire must go into hiding.”
“Hiding?” Both Uma and Vita gasped.
Uma was the first to recover, piecing together the political implications. “Won’t that weaken your standing among the War Council?”
Jax’s smile was grave. “Indeed, but better to be seen as weak than to be dead. I can’t fight for anything from a grave.”
Uma’s lips pursed at the morose notion. “Where will you go?”
“And how do you know you will be safe?” Vita added. “You thought Ogdam Oasis was a haven, after all.”
Jax nodded her head, conceding that Vita had a point. “I did. And I learned from the errors made. I won’t risk sending messengers out, letting my allies know where I am or requesting their help in hiding me. I will do it all from within the walls of my own court.” She waved an arm around the vast banquet hall, empty save herself, Uma, Vita, and a handful of silent, watchful guards. “I will remain within the borders of Saphire. That is all I will allow anyone to know.”
Uma tensed. “You don’t plan to share any details with your courtiers?”
Jax shook her head. “As much as I trust them, I cannot be certain that our conversations are not overheard or eavesdropped upon by a wandering servant, or—” she lowered her voice to a harsh whisper—“a rogue guard.”
Vita risked a look over her shoulder, studying the scattered members of the Ducal Guard around the room. “Duquessa, this sounds terribly dangerous. Are you sure locking yourself in your chambers isn’t an option?”
“And wait for someone to lace my meals with poison?” Jax scoffed. “No, I think not.” Rising from her seat at the head of the table, Jax met each of her friends with a determined stare. “Now, enough of this dismal chatter.” She forced herself to smile. “I think I’d like to go riding tomorrow morning. Uma, will you please inform the stablemaster that I’ll require eight saddled horses for a sunrise ride around the palace grounds.”
Uma’s eyebrows twitched. “W-what?” she sputtered, bewildered by the change in subject.
Jax ignored her and addressed her lady’s maid. “Vita, inform the palace kitchens to have a breakfast picnic ready to ride with the horses at sunrise.” Leaving her untouched plate behind, Jax opted to stuff a dinner roll into
her dress pocket, just in case her appetite returned. “I need to check in with Master Charles.”
Leaving her puzzled friends behind, Jax left the dining hall, her footsteps echoing along the corridor as she strode deeper into the confines of the castle. Blazing torches lined her path as she descended into the belly of her home, her memory guiding her to the infirmary. Behind her, Jax sensed her trailing bodyguards, and for once, she was happy to let them do their job. The face of the lifeless assassin crumpled in a heap on the throne room floor flooded her troubled mind. How has it come to this?
With only a gentle tap on the sturdy wooden door to announce her arrival, Jax entered the circular room, her eyes darting around to find the court physician. His mutterings reverberated against the high, domed ceiling, allowing Jax to trace the young man’s presence to the rear of the infirmary.
Clad in plain healer’s robes, Charles Montivarius stood at the foot of one of the many sickbeds, stroking the speckling of pale stubble sprouting from his chin. His golden eyes remained locked on his charge as Jax approached, and only when she arrived beside him did he seem to notice her.
“How is he?” Jax’s throat tightened as she took in George Solomon’s sleeping figure. The Captain’s chest was bare, save for a large bandage wrapped around his midsection, but relief threatened to buckle her knees when she saw his chest rise and fall with steady, even breaths.
Charles acknowledged her with a tilt of his head. “I just sent Sabine to go find you. I’ve finished sewing up his side.” His usually boyish face looked strangely gaunt and haunted in the lamplight. “George is incredibly lucky, Jax. Had he been stabbed but an inch to the side…” His words trailed off as he shuddered. “I don’t think even Vyanti would have been able to save him.”
Her role as Duchess required her to be calm and unyielding in times of chaos, yet Jax couldn’t summon the willpower keep back the river of tears coursing from her eyes. “Bless the Virtues you were already on your way back to the palace when this happened. Thank you for coming so quickly.”
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