With another smile, which he had on good authority looked quite different from his human one, he launched himself over the cliff. He didn’t make a sound doing it, even though as the wind rushed by him, as he beat his wings to carry him up and up, he wanted to scream his joy. That he couldn’t because someone might hear, even if he hadn’t seen anyone nearby, wasn’t enough to damp his delight. He was flying, and he’d found nothing more exhilarating in his life.
He gloried in what his wings could do, soaring high and diving low, flipping and rolling and twisting in the air as the night continued on around him. His first flight had been the same, shaky at first, but he’d gotten used to his wings quickly, far more easily than most, and he’d flown a long joyful flight with his family at his side, sharing in his elation. He wished they were with him now.
Trying to outrun how much he missed them, he forced himself higher and farther out to sea. The salty breeze was very different from the crisp mountain air of home, and that contrast helped ground him back in the moment, in the pleasure of this flight. Because every one was an utter delight to him. He flew in lazy circles over the waves, his dragon’s sight good enough to see well even in darkness and his sense of direction good enough to get his bearings when he needed to return to shore.
He didn’t want to return; he’d rather continue to turn and spin in the sky.
But he couldn’t.
He might have spent too much time already. A dragon simply couldn’t be seen, and he would be if he stayed out too close to when the fishing boats would take to the sea. He needed the cover of night. And he needed to sleep too, at least for a while, as he had a lecture to give and students to see during the day. With a long sigh, he turned back for the shore, coasting along on the sea wind instead of working to fly quickly and directly. He should have, but reluctance wasn’t so easily denied, even for him.
The little beacon of light he’d left for himself came into sight far sooner than he would have liked, but there was nothing for it. He flew closer and circled a few times, a dark shadow against the sky, to make certain everything was how he left it. Only then did he land, gracefully, with only a soft thump as his legs hit the earth. Once he was down, he put aside reluctance and pulled up his Talent, changing back into Corentin the man. He slowly opened his eyes to the dark night once more. The lingering exhilaration and thrill of the flight mingled with disappointment that it had to end.
He let out another long sigh and went to retrieve his horse.
BASTIEN HADN’T KNOWN exactly what to expect when Loriot and Marcus arrived to speak with him and his siblings. He was dreading the experience actually, and the feeling only lightened marginally when Loriot said they could all speak together. With them seated in the parlor, refreshments on a side table, the meeting had the veneer of a social get-together. He assumed that was the point, to make it easier to ignore that this was a questioning.
“Do any of you remember whose idea it was for your parents and Their Highnesses to go sailing that day?” Loriot asked after the pleasantries had been observed and cider and cakes offered and refused.
Bastien blinked a few times. He hadn’t thought of that question at all. Another reminder, perhaps, that he was a poor investigator. His siblings looked at each other. Griffen frowned, and Bastien realized he was doing the same.
“Our parents always enjoyed sailing,” Griffen said finally. “They went as often as they could when they were in Jumelle. I’m sure they planned on going while they were here. I don’t know when our aunt and uncle decided to go with them. Or if that’s even how it happened. I don’t know who asked.”
“Me either,” Ligeia said. “Mother was looking forward to the visit. We hadn’t in a while. Father had made the trip more recently, but we hadn’t gone with him. While we packed, she talked about all the things we’d do and people we’d see. I was just excited to see my cousins.”
“But they were thinking about it even before you arrived in the city?” Loriot prompted.
“Yes,” Bastien confirmed. “They had some plans for while we were here—sailing was one of them. Seeing family. Their Highnesses obviously, but also my father’s younger brother and his family who primarily reside here in Jumelle.”
“I remember Father talking about a play that Uncle Ormand had written to him about,” Mathis said. His gaze went far away. “I was trying to get him to let me attend with him.”
Silence fell for a moment, and then Loriot spoke, his words gentle. “Tell me what happened that day.”
Bastien had been through some of this with Loriot and Marcus the day he’d brought the letter to Philip, so he remained mostly quiet, letting the others share their recollections.
“We all went up to the palace. Our parents and our aunt and uncle left from there,” Griffen said.
“Prince Philip and Princess Elodie were there as well as some of their cousins,” Loriot said. “Did you see anyone else?”
Mathis shook his head, but Ligeia spoke. “Servants and guards. One of my aunt’s ladies. They had a free afternoon, I suppose, since Aunt Franca was out of the palace without them. I think she was leaving the palace. I don’t know where the others were.”
“Yes, I remember seeing her. I don’t know her name though. She was tall and dark-haired,” Griffen said, and it was his turn to focus on something other than their guests.
If Loriot and Marcus could be considered guests. Bastien wasn’t sure. He was nearly positive that the lady in question had to have been attractive for Griffen to remember her years later.
Loriot and Marcus exchanged a look, and Bastien sat forward. What was that about? Loriot went on to say, “We hadn’t thought about Her Highness’s ladies because none of them had been on the boat, but we’ll look into them.”
Marcus made a note in the book he balanced on his knee. He hadn’t spoken since they exchanged greetings upon his arrival.
“Please continue. We need to know everything you remember,” Loriot said.
His siblings began to talk, telling of their arrival at the palace and seeing their parents off. Of the decision to spend the day out in the garden. Their words tumbled over each other and blended, and Bastien slipped back into memories of the day, though he didn’t want to, even if it was necessary.
The day had been warm but not unpleasantly so, the sky clear and blue. It was almost as if they were children again—or that he, Cathal, and Philip were anyway. When they’d been boys, they’d often had days romping and gamboling about the palace gardens or someone’s family estate, but they weren’t children any longer. Bastien had left university behind by then and dedicated his days to learning all he could of his family’s lands and business. Cathal was doing the same, as well as taking his place as the duke’s heir at court, and Philip had been at his father’s side for years already, though he was younger than Bastien and Cathal.
It hadn’t been easy for Bastien to put aside responsibilities that day. He wondered how Philip had managed it, though if he looked back now, he vaguely remembered Philip being slightly apart. But he was the prince, the heir then; he had to be apart.
Bastien’s brothers and sister didn’t realize the difference in the day, but they didn’t have the same concerns that he did. They never would. They were all happy that day, laughing all afternoon as they talked, ate, played. He couldn’t remember when he’d laughed more. He certainly hadn’t since. The laughter made what came after even more jarring.
The notification. The stunned silence. None of them could take it in; none of them could believe it was true. Then the realization that it was, and everything had changed.
“Duke Umber and our uncle, Lord Ormand, arrived first,” Bastien said as Griffen trailed off from his description of the aftermath of the notification. “Prince Philip had been taken somewhere. I assume to protect him in case it had been an attack. No one knew then.”
And then no one had realized for years that it might have been more than a tragic accident.
“Did any of you notice any
one who seemed suspicious, who said anything that seemed odd or out of place? Either before or after?” Loriot asked.
“We weren’t at court before,” Mathis said. “Bastien, Ligeia, our parents. We were all at Ardesia and didn’t arrive until right before. Ligeia and I were too young anyway. Griffen was at the university then.”
Griffen nodded. “I attended some court events, but I spent more of my time at the university.”
“And after?” Loriot asked.
At the time, everything seemed to have been thrown into disarray, but Bastien had to believe that the guard had an investigation well in hand, and Philip’s coronation had proceeded smoothly after the funerals. No threat emerged that Bastien was aware of. Of course, the guard would have kept it as quiet as possible, and Bastien was involved in taking his own family’s estate in hand, making sure no one thought to push him aside or push in when they shouldn’t. Not that anyone tried or would. His uncle had offered his help but no more than that. His mother’s brother and father had offered their support as well, not only to Bastien in the running of the estate but to his siblings in their grief. While his family was wealthy, his position was nowhere near Philip’s.
“After, we attended the funerals,” Bastien said, remembering the long days that followed. It had been a sunny spring, but everything seemed dull and muted by grief and the weight of unexpected obligation. But duty to the crown didn’t stop for grief any more than duty to his family did. “Griffen and I spent time at court as we were required to do. Mathis and Ligeia weren’t present because of how young they were. I don’t remember anything that seemed odd.”
Maybe because everything did.
“Everyone was trying to get close to Philip,” Griffen said. “Everyone wanted to be in the new crown prince’s favor. I didn’t hear any rumblings of discontent, nor anything that would have led me to believe what happened wasn’t an accident. If I had, I would have brought it to Philip’s attention immediately.”
“I know you would have, Lord Griffen,” Loriot said. “I only meant to see if you might remember something. Perhaps something that seemed strange but unimportant, but that might stick out now that we know it’s possible this wasn’t an accident.”
“Nothing,” Griffen said, and Bastien agreed with him. Nothing came to mind; he wondered if it would. He’d been so focused on his new reality.
“Who did this?” Ligeia asked after being silent for several moments. She’d dressed in one of her new gowns and taken pains with her hair, even Bastien could see that. She looked every inch the fashionable noble lady. Lovely, certainly, but she was lovely anyway. The clothing only added to the presence she could command. He was proud that she’d held onto her composure through the questioning. “Why did it happen? If someone assassinated the prince and princess, wouldn’t they try to take the throne?”
All excellent questions, and ones Bastien had asked himself countless times. He doubted these capable men had thought about them any less.
“We don’t yet know who was behind it, Lady Ligeia, but we’re working to find out,” Loriot said.
“But you do believe it was murder?” Mathis asked him. “Not some elaborate hoax?”
“We have to operate under the assumption that the note Lord Bastien received told the truth until we find anything to the contrary.”
“But I don’t understand. Why kill our parents and our aunt and uncle and then do nothing?” Ligeia leaned forward in her seat. “If they assassinated the prince, wouldn’t they go after Philip and Elodie next, or try to seize the throne, or attack, or something? I don’t understand.”
Griffen reached out to take her hand. “None of us understands.”
“Not yet, Lord Griffen, not yet,” Loriot agreed.
“Do you have any suspicions? Anyone you think might have done this?” Griffen kept his hold on Ligeia gentle, but he fixed Loriot and Marcus with an intense stare. “I know you’d look at the succession, but Philip wouldn’t do this.”
Surprise whipped through Bastien. Did anyone believe Philip could have done this? It would be logical—for anyone who didn’t know Philip—to think he might have been behind his parents’ deaths. But Philip would never have done anything like this. It was unthinkable. Ligeia and Mathis immediately added their voices to Griffen’s protest.
“The succession is something that is considered in these circumstances,” Marcus said. “But we would never believe Prince Philip had anything to do with Their Highnesses’ deaths.”
“Then who do you believe might be responsible?” Bastien snapped. The endless questioning without any answers had worn his patience to near nothing. He tried to moderate his tone. “You must have some idea.”
“Are you thinking of someone outside Tournai? Could Ardunn have had something to do with this?” Griffen threw the words out, but his tone wasn’t as sharp as Bastien’s had been.
“It’s a possibility we haven’t ruled out,” Loriot said.
“We haven’t ruled out any possibilities yet,” Marcus added. “Thank you for speaking with us today.”
It was obvious the interview was over, and they would be given no other information. Bastien seethed with frustration as he saw the men out of the parlor and into the entry hall. A maid hurried to retrieve their cloaks and hats, and opened the door for them. She let out a quiet surprised sound. Bastien stepped closer and saw why.
Corentin stood on their doorstep.
Chapter Nine
CORENTIN HAD ONLY just raised his hand to knock when the door to Bastien’s house opened. A maid looked as startled as a well-trained servant ever would at finding him there. Bastien appeared behind her, surprise warring with fatigue on his face.
Before Corentin could say anything, the maid stepped aside, and two men took her place, bidding farewell to Bastien as they walked through the door. Corentin moved back to allow them past and wondered why the captain of the royal guard was at Bastien’s home. The captain and the other man, whom Corentin didn’t know, nodded to him as they walked by. He nodded back and then turned his attention to Bastien, who seemed to have mastered his surprise if not his weariness.
“Corentin,” Bastien said. “Come in.”
Corentin wanted to laugh because the question of what he was doing there colored Bastien’s tone more than a little, but he bit back the chuckle and stepped inside.
Bastien closed the door and turned to him. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I wanted to see you.”
Bastien drew in a sharp breath, his eyes widening briefly before he pulled himself back under control.
Corentin rather enjoyed the reaction and rattling Bastien’s composure. “Is everything all right?” he asked before Bastien could speak.
“Of course. Why do you ask?”
“Because the captain of the royal guard just left your house looking quite serious.”
“Ah. A family matter. No need to be concerned.”
Bastien didn’t meet his eyes when he said it, and Corentin’s worry grew. He’d have expected someone in Bastien’s position to dissemble better. Corentin didn’t blame him for not telling him what was wrong, but the fact that Bastien wasn’t good at bluffing gave him pause. Was Bastien just bad at it? Or was he too shaken by whatever was happening?
And why was Corentin so deeply invested? They really didn’t know each other well, certainly not well enough to have formed a strong attachment, but here he was, worrying about Bastien.
“All right. I hope the matter is resolved well and quickly,” he said, choosing his words carefully for both himself and Bastien.
“Thank you. We hope so too.” Sadness and worry flashed through Bastien’s eyes, so quickly Corentin could have imagined them.
“I did have another purpose in coming here today,” Corentin said, hoping to divert Bastien’s attention to something more pleasant.
“Oh?”
“I’ve come into possession of theater tickets for this evening.” An unexpected gift from one of the deans. “I was
hoping you might like to accompany me to dinner and then the play. I hear it’s good.”
“Oh.” Bastien looked even more surprised by the invitation than he had a moment before. “I sh—”
“You should go.”
The voice startled Corentin, and Bastien too if his reaction was any indication. They both turned and found three people standing in a doorway off the left side of the entry.
“Master Corentin, have you met my sister and brothers? Lord Griffen, Lord Mathis, and Lady Ligeia. Everyone, this is Master Corentin, a visiting scholar at the university.”
“Yes. I’ve attended some of your lectures,” Mathis said. He obviously didn’t remember seeing Corentin in the library with Bastien that one day, or he chose not to mention it. But then, they hadn’t been introduced at the time. “They were very interesting.”
“Thank you.”
“How do you and my brother know each other, Master Corentin?” Ligeia asked, her gaze moving between them with every indication of avid interest.
“We met at Etan and Tristan’s wedding,” Bastien said, his tone, if not clipped, not inviting further interest either.
“Yes,” Corentin said, motivated perversely by Bastien’s tone to say more. Though not too much. He didn’t want to share everything with others yet. “I enjoyed our conversation, and I’m afraid I’ve sought him out since to continue it.”
“And now you have theater tickets,” Griffen said, and Corentin identified the voice that had interrupted them as his. There was curiosity in Griffen’s eyes too, veiled only slightly. “Is it the new comedy?”
“It is.”
“I saw it the other night with some friends. It’s very good.” Griffen glanced between Corentin and Bastien. “You’ll enjoy it.”
“No, Griffen. Corentin, you’re very kind to invite me, but I don’t think I should go out this evening,” Bastien said.
“Why?” Griffen asked the question that Corentin couldn’t in politeness ask himself, especially not in front of others.
“You know why,” Bastien said with a pointed look at Griffen.
The Dragon's Devotion (Chronicles of Tournai Book 5) Page 14