by Elise Kova
“Could do you good.” Erion laughed, taking another sip of his drink. The conversation lulled, and the lightness vanished from the air. Talking about what next summer could hold, not so subtly avoiding Oparium—it underscored their current situation.
“We’ll figure this out.” Baldair ran a hand through his wavy golden hair and spoke as if reading Erion’s mind. “I personally informed the city guard of everything that happened before coming here, giving it Imperial importance.”
“Sounds like it could be helpful.” Erion was impressed Baldair had taken the initiative and didn’t have so much pride that he avoided involving others.
This was the prince Erion had always seen. Underneath the playboy, and behind the desire to spend most of his time in some state or atmosphere of inebriation, was the heart of a good man, a man who was still working on carving his worth from the world. Baldair didn’t seem inclined to always show this side of himself, but just knowing it was there had been enough to inspire Erion’s loyalty over the years.
“How about the jewelry shop? Were they helpful?”
“Well, she didn’t seem ill-liked.” Erion quickly summarized what the shopkeep had said about Renalee, focusing on what he deemed most important. “She seemed to possess an earring the man was interested in reselling. Perhaps one
acquired through less than savory means. Did you find one on her body?”
“An earring? Don’t you think I would’ve asked you about it if I had?” Baldair shook his head.
“So, perhaps we have a motive?” Erion suggested. “A girl with a taste for nice things, borrowing money from some underhanded lender she couldn’t repay. Earring collected along with her life for debts owed?”
Baldair rested his head in his hand with a heavy sigh. The conversation didn’t fill Erion with joy either, but it was the sort of talk they needed to have if they were going to get to the bottom of a crime. Their carefree summer had ended.
“Then again, she had the mark of—” Erion glanced at Maleese and barely stopped short of saying Adela’s name. “—the pirate queen. Perhaps Renalee stole it from the wrong person.”
“She just didn’t seem like the type…”
Erion opened his mouth to remind the prince that he didn’t really know the deceased woman, but he was interrupted by the sight of a familiar face entering the bar. “Jax!” He waved over their friend. “How was the market?”
“Got a bit of a thieving problem in this city.” Jax slung an unfamiliar sack down onto the bar.
“What’s in the bag?” Baldair asked.
It was Jax’s turn to fill them in. Erion scowled at the mere mention of the sorcerer thief in the market. The South had enough problems with hatred toward magic users; they didn’t need any more reason to point fingers. His scowl only deepened as Jax continued his tale, describing the man, Rowin, who claimed to be the woman’s jilted lover.
“… then I bought everything Rowin had and came here.” Jax finished with a motion to the bag, ale now in hand.
“Well, out with it then.” Baldair tapped the bar.
Erion turned to Jax with a sad shake of his head. “It seems Baldair is too far gone in his cups, missed everything you just said.”
“Not the story.” The prince heaved a mighty sigh. “The bag. Let’s see what’s in it.”
“You want to dump a lady’s things on the bar in the middle of the day?” Erion balked. The mere notion of it was offensive, even if the woman was deceased. Baldair chewed over his words, and Erion knew he’d arrived at a similar conclusion. “It doesn’t matter that she no longer has use of them; respect the dead a bit.”
Baldair eased back in his stool, a frustrated half-pout on his face for being read so easily.
“Are you sure you’re not the prince, Erion?” Jax laughed.
Sometimes he wondered.
“It doesn’t feel like much,” Jax continued, groping the bag. “Rowin said the most valuable thing was stolen.”
“The earring.” It had come back to that. Erion rested his elbow on the bar in thought.
“Let’s just take a peek now,” Baldair insisted.
Erion gave him a chastising look, but Jax had already wiggled his fingers into the drawstring opening, pulling it back.
“Oh my gods!”
“What?” Erion’s reverie was instantly forgotten.
“What is it?” Baldair was on his feet.
“It’s, it’s…” Jax’s hands quivered as he held out the bag. “A lady’s underthings!” Erion dropped his face into his palms and Baldair roared with laughter after a moment’s shock. “That’s why you wanted to see it, isn’t it?”
“I don’t need to rummage through bags to see a woman’s underthings,” Baldair proclaimed.
“A dead woman’s underthings,” Erion corrected severely. Jax and Baldair stared at him for a long moment before Jax slowly strung up the bag again. Really, he couldn’t believe the two of them at times. “We can look through it later,” Erion mumbled, having no intention of bringing it up again if he didn’t have to. The mere idea of pilfering through a dead person’s effects unnerved him.
Baldair sunk back into his bar stool, shoulders sagging with the weight of their situation. He looked up at Jax. “Do you think the spurned would-be husband, this Rowin, killed her?” It was not a line of questioning Erion would have chosen to ask Jax of all people. “Crime of passion?”
Jax kept a straight face and waved away the notion. “He was upset, but he didn’t have the eyes of a man who had just killed his lover.”
Erion and Baldair took Jax at his word. If anyone would know what eyes like that looked like, it would be their friend. He had to stare at them in the mirror every day.
“So, if not the man she was courting, her lover then?” Baldair approached the same idea from the opposite direction.
“It’s not an impossibility,” Jax said.
“There’s also the man or woman she owed money to, for the earring. Or the person she stole it from.” Erion gave Jax a quick recap of his exchange from the jewelry shop. “…I’d bet the earring that was stolen in the market was the match of the one The Jeweled Crest’s clerk mentioned.”
Jax and Baldair both nodded in agreement.
“So the thief in the market could’ve been the person she’d owed the money to, taking back what was owed to them. Or some shady dealer seeking revenge.”
“Both of whom could also be her unknown lover,” Baldair suggested.
Erion hadn’t given much thought to the notion that one person might have been so many things to their victim. “That may be a bit too convenient…”
“We don’t know for certain she had a lover,” Jax spoke into his glass. “Rowin could’ve been mistaken. He could’ve misunderstood.”
Erion held his tongue that Jax might be allowing his past to color the present. Besides, he wasn’t wrong. “Who would know for certain? Her parents?”
“What lass would tell their parents about infidelity?” Maleese asked from behind the bar. The three men turned to the unexpected fourth member of their discussion. “Don’t give me those looks. You’re having this conversation at the quietest point of the day, and right in front of me.” She rolled her eyes.
“So then who do you think would know for certain?” Baldair took the bait and sought the additional help.
“Someone she worked with.” Maleese wiped her hands on a rag thoughtfully. “People talk, especially with others their age as they’re scrubbing dishes in a manor at whatever ungodly hours a hungry prince decides he’ll eat.”
“I eat dinner at a normal time, thank you,” Baldair interjected.
Maleese arched an eyebrow. They had certainly ordered—begged for—late night meals from her more than once on this trip. Well, Baldair had done most of the begging; even in his cups, Erion couldn’t bring himself to do it. But he had eaten the food.
“Of course you do, prince.” She chuckled and shook her head. “But you get the idea. Fellow staff member at th
e manor or jeweler? A boss, perhaps, who noticed some kind of habit?”
“Not at the jeweler.” Erion didn’t think there was much more information to be had out of the shopkeep, and the staff at a small establishment like that would be minimal. Though
the man had asked for the earring back with unabashed boldness…
“We’ll ask at the manor.”
“Don’t you think they would’ve told us everything they knew before?” Erion wouldn’t tolerate staff under him hiding any kind of secrets, especially under the current circumstances.
“Maybe we weren’t asking the right questions? Or they thought it was unimportant?” Baldair shrugged. The benefit of the doubt was freely given with the younger prince. “It’s getting late anyway. We should return home for that normal dinner.”
Maleese laughed from where she re-shelved glasses.
“Good, I’m hungry.” Jax stood, grabbing the bag.
“I suppose we don’t have anything better to go off of.” Erion joined them, starting for the door.
“You really don’t think it’s the pirate ghost?” Jax asked with mock sincerity.
Erion snorted. “I think it’s a ghost as much as I think the crones in the chapel of the sun wear purple.”
Jax and Baldair both gave a hearty chuckle at the notion as well. Erion was silently relieved they weren’t giving the superstition any credence. After all, who in their right mind would really believe in a pirate curse?
13. JAX
THE IMPERIAL MANOR felt quieter than it used to. All the staff kept their heads bowed lower, their voices more hushed, their work at an extreme level of attentiveness. Jax understood, more vividly than most, how murder changed things. So he was content to sit quietly and let the rest of them process the matter however they saw fit.
While his history made him immune to the tension in the air, Baldair and Erion were not so lucky. After the fairly laid-back summer days they had been enjoying, they now shifted in their seats uncomfortably. Jax watched with mild amusement, fighting a grin, waiting with dark interest to see who would be the first to say something.
Baldair stood, startling the three servants who had been attending them throughout dinner. The one pouring water for Erion nearly spilled it across his lap at the sudden movement. The prince won the game that no one but Jax knew they were playing.
“We will find the killer,” Baldair announced. “There is no reason to be fearful in this house.”
Jax leaned back in his chair, neither helping nor hindering the prince. Everyone had a reason to be scared. No one was safe anywhere, ever.
“Thank you, my prince,” a middle-aged man spoke for the rest of them.
Jax’s eyes turned to the youngest servant, the girl who had been attending Erion. Water nearly sloshed from her pitcher as she tried to fight her trembling hands. As if sensing Jax’s stare, her eyes turned to meet his before she quickly turned away.
He rested his elbow on his armrest, chin in hand.
“You don’t happen to know anything about Renalee, do you?” Jax asked the girl. She was younger than Renalee, and maybe not someone the dead woman would’ve confided in. But children were easily forgotten and overlooked. It was entirely possible she’d heard something that hadn’t been intended for her ears.
“I-I don’t know anything,” the girl squeaked.
“If you do, you can tell us,” Baldair encouraged. The other two adult servants stayed silent, letting the girl speak for herself.
“I really don’t, m’Lord. I’m sorry.” The girl shifted the pitcher in her hands, making the strategic decision to set it down rather than risk spilling it everywhere. She wiped her palms on her apron. “Renalee never did anything to hurt or upset anyone.”
“She never so much as even talked to anyone,” the woman of the group quipped. She was forced to continue when Jax, Baldair, and Erion all gave her their focus. “The woman kept to herself. Wasn’t rude, but you won’t find her friends among us.”
The elder man gave a nod in agreement.
“And you’re sure you didn’t see anything?” Jax asked the girl, focusing on her rather than the well-composed woman. If he could smile in the wake of the voices that tormented him from time to time, any of the adults could keep their secret. A child, however, was a different story.
She glanced around the room and shook her head.
“What’s your name?” Erion asked.
“Abaveil,” she answered.
“Pretty.” The prince smiled. Jax studied the expression when it wasn’t directed at him. Baldair had an uncanny way of easing troubles with a look. If the prince could calm with just a curl of his lips, Jax wondered what he could train his face to inspire in people. “Did you notice anything about Renalee? Maybe anything she didn’t tell you but that you saw?”
The girl’s eyes darted again nervously—but again she shook her head.
“You can tell us,” Baldair encouraged. Clearly he had begun to pick up on the girl’s strange hesitation. “We’re just trying to protect you.”
“You can’t protect us from ghosts that disappear into thin air!” her voice rose quickly. “You three evoked the name of the pirate queen. You brought the curse upon us by looking for her treasure. None of us are safe.”
Jax was all too familiar with the girl’s tone. It was the same timbre used by small ones when they shunned sorcerers—the words of an adult, echoed in a child’s voice. She must have heard the rumors of Adela stated elsewhere numerous times to be able to parrot it back to them now. Which likely meant the staff of the palace were fairly set in their opinions on the state of affairs.
“Abaveil,” the older man said sharply. “These are your lords. You must not take that tone with them. Come.”
“Don’t see her punished!” Baldair managed before the man had all but pulled the girl from the room. It was the first time Jax felt uncomfortable in the whole exchange, seeing Baldair stand to spare someone from a supposed crime. “She was just telling me what she knew.”
“As you command, my prince.” The footman seemed unconvinced, but he didn’t dip into hypocrisy by arguing with the prince. He gave a small bow of his head and continued his retreat. Baldair’s seat cushion gave a mighty huff of air as he sat down heavily.
“May we have the room?” Erion asked the remaining woman.
She gave a polite nod of her head. “Should you need anything, ring the bell.”
“Thank you.”
The three of them stared at each other in the echo of the door clicking shut, wondering who would be the first to speak. Jax arched his eyebrows at them. They should well know by now it wasn’t going to be him.
“We’re getting nowhere.” Erion finally broke the silence. “Maybe this would be better left to the guard?”
Baldair sighed, considering the notion.
“We should at least inform the head of the town guard tomorrow on what we’ve found today. The information shouldn’t be useless, and maybe they can fill in some gaps and put it together in a different way.”
“Yes, yes, I agree.” Baldair surprised Jax and Erion both with his easy acquiescence. The prince ran a hand through his hair and stood, walking over to a cord that hung in the corner of the room. He gave it a solid tug, and they all waited.
The footman returned, standing at attention in the door frame. “You rang, m’Lord?”
“Bring me Nana,” Baldair demanded.
The next time the door swung open, it revealed the matron of the manor. “My prince?”
“Nana, just the woman I wanted to see.” Baldair motioned to the room. “Come in, please.”
“Have you found anything further regarding our Renalee?” The woman asked, closing the door behind her.
Jax barely resisted a smart remark on how Nana’s “good girl” was possibly thieving, associating with seedy lenders, or illicitly involved with a lover.
“Nothing solid,” Baldair confessed. The usually self-assured prince looked uncertain for a long moment�
��an expression that didn’t fit him in the slightest. When Baldair was uneasy, it made Jax uneasy. The prince had been his savior, and, with it, he had become a support beam in the skeleton structure of what remained of Jax’s world. If Baldair didn’t know what to do, then they were all lost. “We think she might have had a lover.
You wouldn’t happen to have heard or seen anything, would you?”
Jax arched his eyebrows, surprised by the prince’s candor.
“Renalee?” The matron seemed truly surprised. “I wouldn’t put it in the girl’s nature. I didn’t even know she was promised to anyone that would make a tryst truly illicit.”
“How much background study do you do on staff before they’re hired?” Erion phrased the question lightly, but there was a jab to it that couldn’t be avoided.
“I assure you, I call upon extensive references.” Nana stood a little straighter, instantly defensive.
“I’m sure you do.” Baldair gave a pointed look at Erion that called off the other man’s line of inquiry.
Jax caught Erion’s eyes as he averted them. They shared a sort of frustration toward Baldair’s unwillingness to probe further. Jax knew how intensive the Le’Dan interviews were; he’d once had the “privilege” of sitting in on them for a day.
“Did you ever notice an earring on Renalee?” Baldair asked.
“Not that I can recall.”
“It would’ve been a Western ruby,” the prince pushed with what Jax assessed to be the sum gentleness he could muster. “Something significant, noteworthy.”
“I think I would’ve noticed something like that, my prince.”
“I suppose you would’ve…” Baldair rubbed his chin in thought.
“Will there be anything else, for now?”
“Yes, there will be. Tomorrow I will go to the city guard office to see someone sent up to the manor to speak with the staff, officially.”
Jax thought the decision wise. There may be things the staff didn’t feel confident sharing with their sovereign. Things they’d feel more comfortable discussing with another of similar rank—a familiar face to their city.