Perry gave her a startled look. “You mean, the founders of the realm didn’t take madness into account?”
Jax shook her head. “For all the good they did, overthrowing the priests of the Ancient Faith, our ancestors believed themselves to be somewhat irreproachable.”
“Then how does one deal with a mad ruler?” Perry asked.
Jax hugged her body tightly, repressing a shiver. “Well, Duchess Tandora and the Dukes have already shown the—usually—most effective route.”
“Assassination?” The tray in Perry’s hands nearly cascaded to the floor. “You’re saying the only way to remove my father is by killing him?”
Jax’s palm flew to cover Perry’s blabbering lips. “Goodness, I’m not suggesting anything, Perry. Doing something so drastic would be pointless, since Philippe would assume the throne anyway.”
Ivan held her furious stare for a moment before turning around and resuming the climb up the steps. “Let’s just take our issues one step at a time. When Father wakes, perhaps he’ll remember everything, and we can move forward with the Code of Succession.”
Shortly thereafter, the trio arrived at an opulent, gilded door, far grander than any other Jax had seen in the palace.
Perry snorted as he hoisted the pastry-laden tray in his grip. “Of course Philippe would choose to redesign his chambers in such a gaudy manner.”
Jax agreed with her husband. So much for adhering to the siege tactics Perry mentioned yesterday.
Ivan reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, inserting it into a small, eagle head-shaped lock with a click. He knocked with authority, gruffly speaking at the polished wood, “Philippe! It’s Ivan. Perry and I have brought you breakfast.” Satisfied that he had made his announcement clear enough, he pushed the door and it swung inward.
Perry’s lips pressed in a thin line. “Be only a moment,” he said to Jax before following his brother over the threshold.
Her insides a whirlpool of anxiety, she stepped back and let her gaze trail off down the hall, eager to occupy her mind with anything other than Philippe’s threats.
A shattering of porcelain and silver yanked her focus back to the door. “Perry?” she called, rushing past the gap in the doorway and into the apartment. She found herself alone in a small entry foyer, wondering which direction the noise had come from.
Her husband appeared in the doorway across from where she stood, his lavender eyes wide. His hands massaged his scalp in a manner that made it look like he was trying to pull out his hair. “Virtues, Jax, is there a guard outside?”
His sheer panic rooted her in her spot, her mind going blank for a moment. “I-I haven’t seen any since we entered the tower.”
“Shit.” He looked back into the belly of the room his broad frame guarded.
“Perry, what is it?” A surge of adrenaline pushed her forward and she was in front of her husband in an instant. “Is Philippe missing?” Fear clawed up her spine.
He deflated before her, stepping aside just enough so she could peer into the dim sitting room, a sliver of sunlight coming in through a part in the curtains.
Unsure what she was meant to be searching for, her eyes darted around the expansive space, looking past a ghostly pale Ivan, and landed on a crumpled figure near the dormant fireplace.
The Crown Prince of Pettraud lay sprawled on a bearskin rug, a gleaming dagger protruding from his back.
Chapter Twelve
Regardless of how many times she’d stared death in the face, the sight of a lifeless body still shocked her. “Virtues help us.” Her hand went to her mouth as she looked from Ivan’s inscrutable stance to Perry’s pacing figure.
Jax inched closer to the body, the stench of blood seeping into her nostrils. Examining the silver and emerald hilt of the dagger, she stilled a foot away from Philippe’s corpse. “Those are the colors of Pettraud,” she pointed out, drawing a nod from Ivan. “Can you identify whose it is?”
Ivan dragged himself closer, tension and sorrow dancing across his chiseled features. “I can’t tell you who it belongs to, but I do know where it came from. It’s part of the throwing daggers collection we keep in the archery range.”
Jax looked to Perry for confirmation.
He stood on the opposite side of the room, his hands threaded behind his neck, as if trying to keep his head upright. “It’s true. I threw a few yesterday, myself. It’s just down the hall, in my old quarters.”
Jax searched Ivan’s stormy eyes. “Then anyone could have taken one and used it against Philippe.”
The Captain of the Pettraud Ducal Guard shook his head. “They’d need a key to enter his room.” He patted his uniform pocket, where he’d slipped a key in moments earlier. “All apartment doors can be locked from the inside by their inhabitants, but there is only one master key that can lock all the castle doors from the outside. And it’s right here.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Only one master key? So, no one could have unlocked Philippe’s room from the outside through any other method?”
Ivan seemed to be weighing his words. “I suppose I’d need to ask the blacksmith responsible for maintaining the locks, but no, I don’t believe these doors can be opened without it.”
Jax folded her arms. “Did you kill your brother, Ivan?”
“What?” He jumped back, clearly stunned by her direct question. “Virtues, no!”
Perry raced to his brother’s side, putting a hand on his heaving shoulder. “I believe him, Jax. He couldn’t have faked the shock of seeing Philippe like this.”
Could he? Jax turned back to the body of her deceased brother-in-law, her lower lip between her teeth. “I’d like to believe you, Ivan, but consider the evidence. A dagger you could easily access and a room that only you had entry to. What other explanation could there be?” she said, asking the obvious.
Ivan’s hands burrowed deeply into his pockets. “I’ve heard tales about how your mind excels at unraveling deception.” He sighed. “When I was appointed Captain of the Ducal Guard, I received the key for safekeeping. Until last night, the key has been kept in the top drawer of the desk in my suite, as I’d not had reason to use it. I put it back in the drawer once George and I secured the prisoner last night, and it was still there this morning.”
The detached way he speaks about his brother…he’s trying to approach this with a clear and unbiased mindset. “Who else knew about this key?”
“Well…” Ivan trailed off, as if counting invisible figures, “High Courtier Shavon was the one who gave it to me, as he’d been holding onto it after my predecessor had his accident. Lenora, Father, and all my brothers knew of its existence.”
“And George,” Perry added, his expression unreadable as he met Jax’s surprised gaze.
Ivan nodded. “Yes, Captain Solomon did accompany me when I put the key back last night.”
Jax tapped her chin as she analyzed the gruesome scene. “Well, at least we don’t have to wonder whether or not the Duke will turn to the Code of Succession.”
“Jax, please,” Perry reprimanded her with blatant dismay. “Philippe was my brother, after all.”
Her cheeks heated under his rebuke. She hadn’t meant to sound so dismissive of Philippe’s death, but she couldn’t ignore that having him out of the picture made her life substantially easier. With his eldest son and heir dead, the Duke would have no choice but to name one of Perry’s brothers as heir to the Pettraud throne, as the Code of Succession was automatically invoked if the heir apparent predeceased the ruling sovereign. No choice. A motive for murder, if I’ve ever heard of one.
“Ivan, why don’t you retrieve Lenora?” Jax suggested. She wanted to speak to Perry alone. “Perhaps she can tell us more about what happened here.”
Ivan eyed the dagger, catching the glint of the dying morning sunlight as it succumbed to the growing clouds outside. “I think it’s pretty clear what happened, Duchess. But Lenora will need to prepare his body for interment.” He observed the couple for a moment
before heading toward the door. “Do not touch the body while I am gone.”
The firm command in his voice forced Jax to step back. Did he think she would tamper with the scene?
Once the door slammed condemningly behind Ivan, Perry collapsed into a nearby armchair.
“Darling, I’m so sorry.” She glided to his side, wrapping her arms around his quivering shoulders. “This must be a shock.”
His silence spoke volumes. She stroked his unruly curls, unsure of what else to say.
“Is it speaking ill of the dead to say I’m surprised that Philippe was the one killed, not the one doing the killing?” Perry cringed as soon as the words left his lips. “Who would do this?”
Jax had been forced to unmask murderers enough times to know the first question that needed to be answered. “Who had the most to gain from Philippe’s death?”
Wiping away a surge of silent tears, Perry began wringing his hands. “I suppose any one of my brothers. If Father was forced to select a successor, I’m honestly not sure who he would choose.”
Jax knew she needed to tread carefully. “Galahad made it clear at dinner last night that Cornelius had approached him about the matter. If he thought the Crown might be within his grasp…do you think he could have done this?”
“Galahad? No. But then again, I’m not sure of anything at the moment.” Perry pushed away her comforting hands and got up to cross the room, looming over Philippe’s body. “Someone else had everything to gain from this, Jax. You.”
He might as well have punched her in the gut. “You think I did this?” Her words were strangled with pain and horror that her husband could think so ill of her.
“No!” he cried, hastening to her side, where he knelt in a groveling pose. “No, that’s not what I meant. I’m just saying that someone could be operating with your best interests in mind.”
“What are you implying?” Already, Tarek Killiam had lost his life because of her. She was not prepared to have yet another person’s death on her conscience.
Perry gracefully got to his feet. “Philippe was a threat to you, plain and simple. You’re safer in this world because he is gone. Saphire is safer with him gone. Might eliminating him be viewed as protecting the duchy?”
Her lips were so tightly pressed together, the blood rushed out. “Get to the point, Perry,” she said, not liking where this was going.
“George could have taken matters into his own hands, believing he was protecting you,” he finally said, his words tumbling out in a rush.
Jax wanted to laugh with abandon, but Perry’s conviction forced her into a scoff. “Is this some kind of game to you? Just because George briefly suspected you might have been involved in Uma’s kidnapping before our wedding? Are you trying to one-up him?” She waved her arms wildly as she marched around the room, trying to reel in her disbelief.
“That’s not it at all!” Perry roared. “I’m just telling you what I know. George made threats against Philippe, should he try to harm you. George knew where Philippe was kept and where Ivan stowed the master key, and we ran into him this morning roaming the palace halls, where he avoided telling us where he’d been or what he’d been up to. Didn’t you see the blood on his shirt?”
Jax clenched her fists at her side, her vision almost going red with unfurling anger. “That blood came from the wound he received while he was protecting me against your brother’s attack!”
“Were you this quick to defend me when George thought I might be trying to weasel my way onto your throne?” Hurt shone brightly in his eyes.
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Perry. You know damn well I didn’t believe George’s suspicions.”
“But you still went to investigate them.” He’d calmed down, now taking long, laborious breaths. “That’s all I’m asking you to do.”
She crossed her arms, a swell of pity and anger toward her husband raging inside her chest. “Do you really believe George to be capable of this? Truly, Perry?”
He reflected for only a heartbeat before replying, “I believe George Solomon would do anything within his power to protect you and keep you safe.”
She believed that to be true as well, but did murdering an unarmed man in cold blood align with those values?
“Fine,” she said at last. “Once Ivan arrives with Lenora, you and I will go speak to George. If he had anything to do with this, it will result in a diplomatic disaster that I need to be prepared to face.”
Chapter Thirteen
Lenora announced her arrival with a muted gasp. “When Ivan told me…I couldn’t believe it.” Her amber eyes darted from Philippe’s rigid body on the floor to a stoned-faced Jax.
“Mistress Lenora,” she said, giving the woman a soft, sympathetic smile, “we’d appreciate it if you could tell us anything of note that might help us in getting to the bottom of what happened here.”
Ivan appeared from behind the healer, his fair brows drawn together. “Duchess, with all due respect, it is my duty to investigate this heinous crime, not yours.”
Jax wound herself up to protest, but Perry grabbed her, rather forcibly, by the arm. “Of course, brother. We’ll leave you to it.” He dragged his miffed wife from the room, silencing her with his hardened gaze.
Closing the door securely behind them, Perry turned to her. “We need to get to George, now. Who knows what Lenora might find on Philippe’s body. We need to be prepared for the fallout.”
Jax grumbled as she crossed her arms. “We could be better prepared if we know what Lenora’s findings are.”
“From where I stood in that room,” Perry said, “a dagger to the back claimed Philippe’s life. Unless the killer tucked a hidden note somewhere, identifying himself, I think we’re better off questioning George.”
Understanding she was on thin ice with her husband, she nodded her agreement and trailed after him as they wove their way back to the guest wing.
“George!” Perry pounded on the door, the hinges rattling under his intense strength. “George, it’s Perry and Jax. Open up!”
With no immediate response, Jax grew wary as she watched Perry’s temper grow.
“Darling, why don’t you go find your brothers…your father? Someone needs to tell him.”
“I don’t want to leave you alone.” Perry scowled, hammering the door once more.
Finally, hurried sounds of someone moving furiously on the other side of the entrance broke their tense silence.
“What is it?” George asked as he threw back the door. He was clad in nothing but a white towel, tied firmly around his sculpted waist.
Jax’s cheeks heated as she took in the sight of him, droplets of water streaming down his tan, glistening skin. He must have been in the bath…
Perry cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable staring at the half-naked man. “An urgent matter has come up. We need to speak with you at once.”
Clearly confused why Perry was leading the charge, George ushered them both inside the roomy, but sparsely decorated servant’s suite. “Sorry, I was just washing up.” He directed Jax and Perry to the small sofa against the far wall. He went to sit down on a wooden stool near the fire place, but Perry threw up a hand.
“Why don’t you finish getting dressed?” he suggested. “We’ll wait.”
George’s chocolate eyes searched Jax’s gaze for answers as to what was going on, but she averted them, instead looking down at her clasped hands. Her heart beat unchained against her ribcage. Those kind eyes of his…he couldn’t kill in cold blood, could he?
Once George disappeared into the attached bedroom, Perry’s leg began to bounce erratically up and down.
She put a restraining hand on his knee. “Dearest, I really think it’s best for you to be with your family right now.”
He scoffed. “I told you I’m not leaving you alone with him.”
“You think George is really a threat?” Jax’s hand stilled, stunned at the vehemence in her husband’s words. “Perry, he is our closest friend and fie
rcest protector.”
“He’s your closest friend, not mine.” His upper lip curled into a snarl.
Panic assaulted Jax’s nerves. She was only here to humor Perry, to make him see reason, but she feared the trauma of his brother’s death was addling his brain. “George is Saphire’s Captain, sworn to protect the Crown. If he’s capable of doing what you’ve suggested, he’s done it only with the best interests of Saphire in mind. I need to work through this, as Duchess.” She moved her hand to his heaving chest. “Please, dearest, you’re not well. Why don’t you go lie down in our room, and I’ll come get you once I’m done here?”
Perry’s mouth went slack. “You think I’d leave you alone with a potential murderer? What kind of man do you think I am, Jax? Even if you are a Duchess, I’m not going to let you boss me around when the stakes are so high.”
“High stakes? What’s going on here?” George reentered the room, tying the front of his white tunic as he shuffled his way over to the seat he’d originally laid claim to.
Jax couldn’t find the words to refute her husband’s outburst. Her amethyst eyes trailed to her lap, studying her trembling hands. “There’s been an incident.”
“What kind of incident?” George sounded wary.
Perry rose from the sofa, moving to the closest window to peer out across the choppy lake. A thunderstorm roared in the distance, as if heralding the turmoil that lay ahead of them. “Where were you this morning?”
George stiffened. “What incident are you referring to, Jax?”
“I asked you a question, Captain,” Perry barked, his nostrils flaring.
George met Perry’s fiery gaze. “Forgive me, Perry, but I answer to the Duchess of Saphire, not to you. If there’s something going on that could jeopardize her safety, I need to know.”
Jax jumped in, fearing Perry might erupt on the spot. “The Crown Prince was found dead in his chambers this morning.”
“Philippe?” George’s face drained of color, but he sat rigid in his chair. “What happened to him?”
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