Burdened Bloodline

by Sarah E. Burr

  “He was stabbed in the back,” Perry spat out.

  The Captain’s brown eyes widened. “Someone killed him? But how could they have reached him? Ivan locked the door to his suite from the outside. I saw him do it.”

  “We know.” Perry folded his arms, his biceps twitching through the light linen of his shirt.

  For the first time since she’d met him, Jax wished Perry would disappear. “Ivan told us he doesn’t keep the key on his person, but hidden away in his chambers.”

  George frowned. “A rather foolish way to approach security, especially since he keeps his apartment door unlocked, but I didn’t think it was my place to criticize him last night.”

  She agreed wholeheartedly, but did not voice her opinion. “Ivan says there are several people in the castle who know where the key is kept.”

  Sighing, the Captain rubbed his temples. “Well, at least that narrows down the pool of suspects.”

  “Exactly.” Perry perched against the window sill. “Now, once more, where were you this morning?”

  A pang of understanding tore through George’s eyes. “Wait, you think I did this?”

  Jax couldn’t meet his gaze. The betraying tremor in his voice squeezed her heart.

  “Just answer the question, George. Do you have an alibi or not?” Perry’s temper started to rise once more.

  George studied both his accuser and his sovereign before relaxing slightly. “I did not do this, Perry. Jax knows this, and you know it too, deep down.” He released a tired sigh. “Look, I’m sorry if you’re still angry with me about the suspicions I had before your wedding. I can’t take back what happened, but you know I would never do anything that might hurt Jax.”

  “Really?” Perry’s fists balled at his side. “Then why won’t you answer my question?”

  A knock interrupted the simmering animosity flooding the room.

  Jax stood to answer the door, but before she could reach the handle, Ivan poked his head into the room. “Sorry to intrude, but one of the guest wing servants reported you were all meeting in here. Perry?” Ivan summoned his youngest brother with a flick of the wrist. “Father wants us all in Philippe’s chambers.”

  Perry did not move from his position near the window, still scowling at George.

  “Duchess, you are welcome to attend as well, as this is a family matter,” Ivan said.

  Relieved to have an excuse to separate the warring egos around her, Jax hurriedly grabbed Perry’s arm, leading him toward the doorway. With a beseeching glance at George, she silently begged the Captain to forgive Perry’s unfounded accusations. His brother’s death had affected his senses greatly, and she prayed George would understand that her husband was not in his right mind.

  “I should come with you.” George moved forward, only to receive a halting glance from Jax.

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll be under Captain Pettraud’s protection. Lead the way, Ivan.” With one last look back over her shoulder, Jax followed Ivan’s quick pace, tugging Perry along.

  Her husband’s volatile mood worried her. Perhaps Mistress Lenora could give him some type of draft to help ease the shock. He walked mutely by her side now, his eyes dim and with a far-away look to them. Whatever fueled his enraged questioning of George had vanished, leaving him a deflated shell.

  Wrapping her arm around his middle, she drew him closely to her. “Perry, are you up for this? We could send our regrets to the Duke and return to our chambers. A hot bath might soothe your troubles.”

  He shrugged away from her. “I’m fine.”

  She had never seen him like this before. Was Philippe’s death bringing back the pain of his mother’s passing? Cornelius had sent his son away to Saphire, hoping the distance would help heal his son’s wounds. Had they healed, or merely just been buried?

  At last reaching their destination, Ivan held the door to Philippe’s apartment open, ushering them inside with a grim expression. Jax studied the faces of the Pettraud brothers that greeted her as she entered. Kaul’s cheeks were more gaunt than usual. Galahad stood by the window, furthest away from the dead body still on the floor. Elias sat in a chair, his eyes red with tears.

  Jax balked at the sight of Philippe, still sprawled out across the bearskin rug. Why hadn’t Lenora moved the body? Why was the Duke forcing his children to meet in the room where their brother was killed? A quiver of unease shot through her limbs.

  Perry, hands in his pockets, abandoned her side and went to Kaul, speaking in low murmurs. Jax was about ready to excuse herself, as she did not feel comfortable here, when Duke Pettraud stormed into the room.

  “Virtues,” he said in a low hiss as his regal eyes took in the rigid body of his eldest son. A blizzard of emotions flickered in his gaze, but he swallowed them back visibly and marched forward with his head held high. “I had hoped you all had cooked up some cruel joke. What happened here?” He stopped, inches away from Philippe.

  “Based on her examination, Lenora believes he was killed sometime between midnight and one o’clock,” Ivan reported numbly.

  Jax’s brow furrowed. So, Philippe was dead long before breakfast had been delivered to his chambers. Her mind raced to the events of last night. After Philippe’s outburst and the Duke’s strange health episode, everyone had dispersed from the dining hall by nine. That gave the culprit a large window of time to obtain Ivan’s master key and sneak into Philippe’s room to end his life.

  Cornelius stroked his scruffy chin. “What killed him?”

  Jax masterfully concealed a snort. It should have been obvious what killed him. Her eyes flitted to Philippe’s back, and the air left her lungs in an instant. No wonder the Duke had asked the question. The silver dagger was no longer there.

  Ivan noticed it at the same time. “Where is it? I asked Lenora not to touch it.”

  “Touch what?” Kaul asked.

  Ivan ran a hand through his blond curls. “The dagger. Philippe was killed with one of the throwing daggers from the archery range.”

  Elias wiped his eyes clear. “I was the first to arrive once you summoned us. There was no dagger in his back.”

  “Why would Lenora remove it if you asked her not to?” Galahad sauntered to Ivan’s side.

  “Remove what?” As if beckoned by their questions, Lenora’s slender frame filled the doorway.

  Ivan straightened his shoulders, brimming with authority. “Mistress Lenora, I ordered Philippe’s body remained untouched. Where is the murder weapon?”

  She held up her hands. “Ivan, you saw me leave the room after I examined him. I left Philippe just as I found him.” Her eyes darted to the body. “Th-the dagger was here when I left to ready the burial chamber.”

  Ivan edged forward. “You didn’t come back for it?”

  “No!” Lenora exclaimed, annoyance creeping into her tone. “Why would I?”

  “Well, if you didn’t take it—” Ivan whipped his head around the room, assessing each person with confusion.

  “The murderer may have,” Jax said quietly. She might has well have shouted. All six pairs of Pettraud eyes bore down on her. “Perhaps they came back for it, fearing it would point to them.”

  “It was a simple throwing dagger.” Ivan said.

  Jax tilted her head. “Are you sure?”

  Ivan bristled. “Lenora saw it. She can confirm.”

  The healer’s cheeks grew dark. “I’ll admit I studied the blade more intently than the hilt. Captain Ivan told me the dagger was from the archery range, so I assumed that to be the case.” She paused, sending an apologetic look to the Duke. “I was more focused on the body and determining time of death than the weapon that killed him.”

  Ivan’s breathing came loudly, as if trying to subdue the steam roiling inside him. “It looked like one of the throwing daggers,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Have you gone to the range to confirm one is missing?” Jax asked. “If someone removed it from the body without permission, there has to be a reason why. Something incrim
inating about it, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Ivan, you might want to listen to her.” Galahad put an encouraging hand on his brother’s shoulder. “The Duchess has faced matters like this before, more than any of us combined.”

  Her grateful smile was laced with painful memories of her past run-ins with death and deception. “I’m only trying to help.”

  Ivan relaxed under his brother’s touch and bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Duchess. My wounded pride got in the way.” A sorrowful expression encompassed his face. “I couldn’t even manage to protect my own brother…” he trailed off as he choked the words out.

  Kaul joined Galahad in giving Ivan a reassuring pat on the back. “We’ll find who did this.”

  Ivan shook his head. “I’m afraid the list of suspects isn’t a pleasant one. Only a handful of people knew where I stored the master key.” His lavender eyes danced with wearied trepidation. “And most of them are in this room.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Absurd!” Elias roared. “Is that why you called us all here? To accuse us of murdering our brother over his dead body?”

  Ivan looked shaken at the attack. “No. Father was the one who requested we all meet here, before moving Philippe down to the catacombs for burial.”

  Every gaze flew to the Duke.

  “What’s the meaning of this, Father? Some sick, twisted punishment for failing our brother?” Kaul’s voice cracked at his bold claim.

  Cornelius’s shoulders drooped, his sagging features aging him ten years before Jax’s eyes. “Virtues, no. I-I wanted to bring you all here to see your brother, the vile act committed against him.” He bolstered himself with his own words, summoning the inner strength to stand tall. “I wanted to instill in you a sense of duty to bring his killer to justice. Philippe was a troubled soul, but he…he didn’t deserve this ending.” Emotion closed his throat and prevented him from speaking further.

  “Father, none of us will rest until his killer has been punished,” Galahad pledged.

  The Duke stared at his son for a long moment before nodding his head. “Good, good. Lenora, unless you have something that might be helpful to this investigation, please remove Philippe’s body and prepare him for burial.”

  Clearly uneasy with the hopeful eyes on her, the healer shook her head. “I’m afraid all I can tell you is the time of death. Sometime between midnight and one.”

  Jax had been analyzing the state of the room for a while now. “Did you find any evidence of a struggle?”

  Lenora’s brow wrinkled. “Struggle, Duchess?”

  “Did Philippe try to fend off his attacker?” she clarified.

  Biting her lower lip, Lenora’s amber eyes trailed the length of the body. “No, no, there weren’t any signs that Philippe fought back.”

  Jax looked around at the gathered brothers. “Strange, don’t you think? Philippe always seemed like a fighter to me.” Her remark brought a furtive smile to their lips.

  “He must have known his assailant and didn’t feel he was in harm’s way,” Ivan surmised.

  Jax nodded. “He was stabbed in the back, literally. He probably didn’t even see it coming.”

  Elias grunted. “A fat lot of good that observation does us, Duchess. We’re his brothers. Of course Philippe would have trusted us to be alone with him.”

  Jax concealed her rolling eyes. “I understand that. But the act of stabbing someone in the back is very telling…and cowardly.”

  Galahad changed the subject. “Have you questioned the sentries assigned to our tower?” he asked Ivan.

  The Pettraud Captain nodded. “They reported that we were all in our rooms by eleven. No one else entered the tower after us, and no one left until morning.”

  “And there were no sentries patrolling the halls at the time?” Jax hadn’t seen many guardsmen at all since their arrival.

  Ivan shook his head. “Not in the royal wing. Our family values its privacy. We only have four guardsmen posted outside the tower’s entrance.”

  “You didn’t think to position anyone outside Philippe’s room?” Perry spoke up, color inching its way back into his skin.

  Ivan seemed irked at having to repeat himself. “No. I didn’t see the need. His room was locked, and nothing was out of the ordinary when I did my Captain’s rounds at ten.” A sharp spark glinted in his eyes. “There’s only one entrance to the royal tower, Perry, and it’s always guarded, or have you forgotten?”

  Before Perry could bite back, Galahad cleared his throat. “You’ve all made the assumption that someone came in through the door. What about the window ledge?”

  Jax considered the spattering of windows peppered along the walls. While most were too small and too high from the stone floor for anyone to access, two large windows flanked the fireplace. “How high up are we?” She moved closer to the glass to peer down below. “Could someone even make the climb?”

  Kaul joined her. “Someone in good shape could. See…” He pushed open the pane, allowing her the ability to poke her head outside. A cold wind whipped across her cheeks, signaling the violence of the approaching storm that now hovered over the southern edge of the lake.

  “Someone could have snuck out onto the rampart that’s flush with the tower and scrambled up it.” Kaul pointed down at the outside wall snaking around the keep. “If I had to guess, it’s only a fifty-foot climb or so.”

  Only? Jax didn’t know anyone who could scale a tower unassisted. “But the window opens from the inside. Why would Philippe let anyone who scaled the wall into his room? Wouldn’t it raise his suspicions? Put him on guard?”

  “Maybe he thought the culprit might help him escape from confinement?” Galahad proposed.

  Duke Pettraud sighed. “It was foolish of me to lock him in here. After his behavior last night, I should have sent him straight to the dungeons.” He crossed the room and took Jax’s hand. “I’m sorry for letting my feelings blind me to what was right.”

  Relief throbbed through her. The Duke did remember some of last night’s events at dinner. At least, for now.

  “It will haunt me forever,” he added, “knowing my actions led to my own son’s death.”

  He spoke softly, and Jax believed he intended for only her to hear. “You can’t blame yourself.” She squeezed his papery hands.

  He acted as if he hadn’t heard her. “I’m sorry, Penelope, that I couldn’t protect our boy.”

  Ice flooded her veins. Did the Duke think she was his late wife? “Cornelius, are you…are you all right?”

  A minute lapsed before the color returned to his worn cheeks. He blinked his muted eyes. “I’m sorry, Jacqueline, what were we just speaking about?”

  Jax parted her lips to respond, but didn’t know what to say.

  “Never mind.” The Duke waved his hand. “Let us leave Lenora to her work. Once you’re done in here, Mistress, please clean up this horrid mess unassisted.” He motioned to the bearskin rug, caked with blood. His detached approach left Jax even more confused. “I don’t want the staff aware of what’s happened.”

  Lenora bowed her head and, once again, disappeared out of the room, likely in search of powerful cleaning supplies.

  Perry and his brothers appeared reluctant to follow the healer.

  The Duke growled. “What are you all standing around for?”

  Kaul glanced at his feet. “Father, it seems wildly improbable that someone climbed in through the window to assault Philippe. And if the guards really didn’t see anyone enter the tower after eleven…” he paused, a nervous tick blooming in his right eye, “then we can only assume Philippe was killed by one of us.”

  Elias’s face burned crimson. “Why are you so quick to cast suspicion to the wind, Kaul? You think it makes you look less guilty?” He stomped over to Kaul’s lithe frame. “Your room is right next to his, and you didn’t hear a thing? Convenient.”

  Kaul’s expression darkened. “Why on earth would I kill Philippe?”

  “Oh, I’ll just say wh
at everyone else is thinking,” Elias replied. “Each one of us wanted him dead after that sham of a dinner last night.” He pointed to his father. “After he made the declaration that the Code of Succession was in play, Philippe’s life was basically forfeited. We’ve known all along he wasn’t meant for the throne. Any one of us is capable of seeing to it that the Crown became ours.”

  Those were the most words Jax had ever heard Elias speak, and his statements echoed the very same thoughts bouncing around in her own mind. As a result of Philippe’s death, someone in this room would inherit an entire duchy, a dynasty.

  The Duke clasped his hands tightly behind his back. “I know you all believe Philippe was a bad egg, but please don’t tell me that another one of my sons has a rotten core, too.”

  Elias folded his massive arms. “Who else could have done this?”

  Perry stepped forward, clearly trying not to make eye contact with Jax. “I have a suspect to offer.”

  Is he really going to accuse George? Hot anger at his stupidity raced through her. If Perry threw George into the foray, the diplomatic consequences for her would be disastrous. What was he thinking?

  The obvious answer was that he wasn’t thinking.

  Desperate to distract them all from Perry, Jax steadied her frantic words. “Ivan, did your guardsmen leave their posts at any time during the night?”

  “The only time they would have moved from their posts was during shift change,” Ivan replied. “That happens at eleven-thirty and then again at seven in the morning.”

  Jax took a breath, puzzling a solution together. “I imagine during those timeframes that the guards might be a bit distracted. Could someone have slipped in and out of the tower while they were busy?” She tapped her chin. “Philippe was killed between midnight and one. That doesn’t mean his killer arrived in the tower precisely at midnight or left by one.”

  Ivan’s speech seemed halted as he processed the scenario. “While I can’t definitively say that my men weren’t sidetracked for a brief moment, it’s hard to believe they would miss someone going in and out of the royal tower during their transition.”