As soon as the door to Uma’s chamber snapped shut, she turned to Jax with wide eyes. “I’ve never seen Perry look so downcast in his life, and George was certainly on edge. What in the Virtues is going on here?”
Jax chuckled darkly, moving closer to the bay window overlooking the cliffside. The clouds overhead churned with ferocity and in the distance, grumbling tickled its way into her ears. “Our stay hasn’t been as pleasant as I’d hoped it would be, that’s for certain.” Waiting for the young women to settle into their seats by the roaring fire, Jax launched into explaining the events that had occurred since they stepped over the threshold of Perry’s childhood home.
Uma began wringing her hands once Jax finished, understandably worried. “I’m regretting urging the driver to get us here quickly. What a nightmare. Poor Perry.”
“First his father’s mental acuity starts to fluctuate, and then his brother is murdered.” Vita shook her head. “You think it all has to do with Duke Pettraud announcing the Code of Succession?”
“The timing just seems too coincidental.” Jax sighed. “The Duke threatens to choose a different heir to the throne, but then forgets the ultimatum he’s issued. Philippe’s death ensures the Duke is forced to select another successor.”
“With the bloodied garments all but pointing to one of Perry’s brothers, what is your next step?” Uma asked.
Jax unfurled the note she’d kept stowed in her pocket. “I need Perry to see if this handwriting resembles that of anyone in his family. I’m not holding my breath, as whoever wrote this likely disguised their script to fool Sabine, but it’s all I have at the moment.”
Vita smirked. “I can’t wait to meet this cast of characters. Perry’s brothers sound like a mixed bag.”
Jax’s stomach rumbled, signaling the approaching lunch hour. “Well, I should let you both freshen up. I’ll meet you in the banquet hall. You can see the circus for yourselves.”
Perry was waiting for her in their private suite. “Did you find your brothers?” she asked him.
He nodded. “Except Elias. He has made himself scarce.”
“What do you mean?”
Perry ran a hand through his curls. “I haven’t seen him since this morning. Ivan is hoping the allure of lunch will bring him out of whatever hole he is hiding in. It’s a large castle, after all.” Perry pushed a stray caramel lock behind Jax’s ear. “Now, will you tell me what you uncovered while questioning Sabine?”
Flashing him an apologetic look for keeping him in the dark for so long, Jax recounted Sabine finding the bloodied clothes outside her door. “She says this note is from Philippe.” Jax pulled the parchment out of her skirt.
Perry’s eyes narrowed as he examined the text. “I mean, it’s been a few years since I’ve been in close proximity to Philippe’s work, but this certainly doesn’t look like his writing.” He sighed. “But it doesn’t look like any of my brothers. Whoever wrote this did a good job disguising his hand.”
Jax smoothed her skirts. “Did anything jump out at you while in the company of your brothers? Do you really think one of them could have done this?”
Placing the scribbled note in Jax’s hand, Perry said, “Perhaps I’m not as skilled in the art of observation as you, dearest, but everyone seemed completely blown off course by what’s happened. Each claimed they were in bed by eleven, and not a shred of proof has appeared to state the contrary.”
“Except someone showed up at Sabine’s door at two in the morning, leaving behind a note and clothes most likely covered in Philippe’s blood.” Jax’s balled fists went to her hips. “And since Sabine and her mother’s living quarters are also in the royal tower, the guardsmen would have reported it if anyone had entered or left the tower around that time.” She paused. “At first, I suspected that maybe someone could have sneaked past them during their eleven-thirty shift change, but to have it happen twice in one night? I’d question the abilities of Duke Pettraud’s forces if that were the case.”
“I brought up the subject of the missing dagger with my brothers,” Perry called from the washroom, where he was splashing cold water on his face. “But unless they’ve all become masters of deception, they were genuinely confused as to how it could be missing. None of them were even in the tower when Ivan and his guards went to corral everyone to meet in Philippe’s room.”
“But you just said yourself, the tower was left unguarded for a short time. Any one of them could have retrieved the dagger and doubled back. I’d like to bring up the topic myself,” Jax said. “At lunch. Let’s go before my insides eat away at me.”
Uma, Vita, and George had assembled outside the dining hall by the time she and Perry arrived, with George extending introductions to the newcomers. Pleased to see Kaul, Galahad, and Ivan already gathered, Jax kept alert for any sign of Elias.
“It’s a shame we meet again under such dismal circumstances.” Kaul kissed Uma and Vita’s hands, flashing them a handsome smile that didn’t quite conceal the strangled grief in his lavender eyes.
Galahad did the same. “At least your beauty is a beacon of light in these dark hours.” His smooth words brought a lovely rose-hue to Uma’s cheeks.
Hendrie might regret leaving Uma’s side during this stay. Jax shared a knowing look with Vita, whose brows sloped with her smirk.
“How are you all doing?” Jax asked, her expression sympathetic as she greeted her brothers-in-law.
Galahad grumbled. “I’d be doing much better if we knew who’d done this to Philippe.” His next words were blanketed with a hush. “I know Father wants us to keep this under wraps, but what if one of the servants knows something or saw something?”
Jax agreed that limiting their pool of witnesses was not helpful, but she understood the Duke’s concerns. “Ivan spoke with the guardsmen posted at the entrance of the royal wing. They neither heard nor saw anything of note.”
“And what makes you so sure they are telling the truth, Duchess?” Elias’s cool presence chilled the foyer as he entered.
Jax opened her mouth to respond, but realized she was only taking the guards and Ivan at their word.
“Ivan holds them by the reins,” Elias sneered. “What’s to say my dear brother, the soldier, hasn’t forced them into silence?”
“I won’t even deem your absurd accusation with a response.” Ivan’s jaw hardened as he led the way into the dining hall.
The atmosphere at lunch did not improve. Despite a savory lentil soup and cranberry salad, a sour mood dampened the room. Sabine’s perennial cheeriness was sorely needed, but she did not make an appearance.
“Won’t your father be joining us?” Jax asked, hoping that one of the Pettraud brothers would answer her.
Galahad set his fork down with a clink. “The stress of the morning has really taken its toll on him, I’m afraid.”
Jax recalled the awkward exchange she’d had with Cornelius earlier, when he’d called her by his late wife’s name. “Nothing too serious, I hope?”
“He didn’t put up much of a fight when Lenora requested he lay down in his chambers.” Galahad stroked his chin. “I just pray to the Virtues that he doesn’t wake up and think Philippe is alive. To have to deliver that news to him again…”
Jax tilted her head toward Ivan. “I thought you were the one who spoke to Cornelius?”
Ivan shook his head. “I ran into Galahad first—”
“And I offered to break the news to Father.” Galahad seemed rather cavalier about the whole ordeal. “It’s getting to be a tradition of sorts. First Mother, now Philippe.”
Perry tensed at her side, clearly not appreciating the disrespectful banter.
“Well, I do hope you figure out which one of us did our own brother in,” Elias snarled as he pushed himself out of his chair. “I would hate for Father to crown the wrong Pettraud.”
As much as she disliked Elias, his reckless behavior suggested he was the only one really hurting at the loss of Philippe. She had guessed they were close, from
what she’d seen at her wedding, but his thunderous behavior, which so obviously concealed a buried sorrow, seemed to prove it.
Elias’s condemning words darkened the mood even more. While Jax had been doing her best to ignore it, there was the very real possibility that a killer sat around the table with them. Unable to silence the suffocating notion in her mind, she needed a distraction. “Uma, darling, should we take a walk outside before the skies open up? A little fresh air might do me good.” She reached for her friend’s hand without waiting for a response and dashed away from the table. She didn’t look to see if George and Perry stood to follow her, but she hoped they would keep their distance while she confided in her lady-in-waiting.
“My, none of them seem very torn up about Philippe’s death, gruesome as it was,” Uma huffed as they strolled through a winding pathway that led to a spacious outdoor garden. “Not that I remember him being all that wonderful to begin with.”
“Agreed.” Jax wrapped an arm around her friend’s slender waist. “Uma, I feel awful for thinking this, but part of me is glad he’s gone. A very big part.” She shuddered as she uttered the admission. “The things he threatened to do…if he had been given Pettraud’s throne, he would have devastated the duchy with his plans.”
“I wonder where those ideas came from?” Uma’s eyes twinkled with worry. “I mean, could his father have been corrupting him behind closed doors, shaping the next generation of Pettraud?”
Jax mulled over the idea. “I can’t imagine the Duke wanting to undo everything he and my father accomplished together. Cornelius seems staunch in his support of Saphire, and of me.”
“Then if Philippe’s notions weren’t being handed down from his father, were they made to spite him?”
Jax paused, as they arrived at the covered terrace leading out into the ducal gardens. A cool scent nipped at the air, the dark clouds hovering, looking just about ready to burst. “Philippe seemed genuinely stunned last night when Cornelius made the announcement about considering the Code of Succession. I don’t think he ever doubted his father’s confidence in his ability to rule.”
Uma’s grasp tightened around her. “Then there must have been some other force corrupting him.”
“You’re right.” A frosty breeze descended on her, ruffling her skirts as she and Uma strolled through the immaculately groomed hedges of the prosperous garden. “That hadn’t popped into my mind, with everything else going on.”
“I don’t know if it matters, now that he’s dead,” Uma pointed out.
Jax scoffed. “Well, it could become a problem if the Duke’s eventual successor becomes their new target.”
“Oh, what a majestic tree!” Uma exclaimed breathlessly, her attention drawn elsewhere for a sudden moment.
Jax’s gaze slid to the silver birch rising from the center of the garden. Its shimmering bark and lush green leaves made it a natural symbol for the duchy. “When a new sovereign is crowned, the old tree is cut down and a new one is planted in its place. This tree has been growing since the day Cornelius took the throne.”
“What a lovely tradition,” Uma commented, gathering her skirts to allow her to move faster. “I’m glad we got to see it before the leaves began to turn.” She stood on her tiptoes under the canopy of the tree and stroked the glossy leaves with her outstretched hand.
As she neared, Jax noticed an unruly shrub growing in the shadow of the silver birch, its finger-like vines stretching across the earthy ground. Crumpled petals danced at its feet, tossing in the growing wind.
“Are you familiar with these flowers?” Jax asked, kneeling to pinch a velvety petal between her fingers.
Uma stood over her shoulder. “I can’t really tell, with the blooms wilted like that.”
Jax brushed away a pile of the creamy, rose-colored remains of fallen flowers, spreading them across the dirt. Her fingertips caressed a sliver of something ice-cold, sending a tingle up her arm. “What’s this underneath?” Pushing away a small mound of mulch and petals revealed the emerald and silver hilt of a dagger sparkling in the speck of sunlight fighting its way through the clouds. “Virtues!” Jax rushed to uncover the rest of knife, its long, thin blade coated in a fine veil of blood.
“The missing murder weapon?” Uma squeaked from behind her, meeting Jax’s wide-eyed gaze.
“I believe so.”
Chapter Eighteen
Jax debated her next move, staring down at the glistening knife. Why would someone remove it from the scene of the crime, only to bury it—rather poorly—out in the middle of the castle garden?
“Should I go fetch Perry and George?” Uma asked.
Without hesitating, Jax ripped a section of her dress, using the torn cloth to swaddle the dagger. “No. No, stay with me for now.” Unsure of where to put the missing piece of evidence, Jax clasped her hands behind her back. “Come. They’re probably not very far behind us. They haven’t exactly been giving me lots of breathing room since we arrived.”
No sooner had they stepped inside the main keep of the castle did George emerge from the shadows. “Perry went to go check on his father. What Galahad said had him worried Philippe’s death might cause a full-on mental break.”
Jax’s heart clenched. She’d selfishly left her husband to fend for himself, just because she was uncomfortable with the spiraling situation. “I’ve been so caught up in what this all means for Saphire and the crown…I haven’t been doing a very good job at being a wife now, have I?”
George’s disquieted composure provided the answer to her question.
“Take me to him, will you?” she pleaded, her hand tightening on the wrapped dagger clenched behind her back. “I have something I need to show you both.”
Knowing better than to push her for more information, George turned and led the way down the darkening hall. The gray sky outside was now completely eclipsed by pulsating clouds. The tap-tap-tap of rain began to echo all around them.
Uma bit her lower lip. “If you can point me in the right direction, I wouldn’t mind returning to my suite for a bit of rest.”
A crooked smile from George flashed back at them. “Vita is waiting for you in one of the parlors. We’ll drop you off on our way to the royal wing.”
They found Vita lounging in front of a large open window, inhaling the refreshing aroma of rainfall. “At least that dreadful fog has cleared,” she lightheartedly commented before fully processing the tense expressions on her friends’ faces. She abruptly stood. “Is everything all right, Duquessa?”
Before Jax could answer, Uma took Vita’s hand and pulled her away. “I’ll fill you in once we are back in our suite. Come now, I need your help finding the way back.”
Each gave Jax a wave, Vita’s more reluctant and confused than Uma’s, before disappearing up the flight of stairs leading to the guest wing.
George looked her up and down. “You’ve lost a bit of color, Jax.”
“I’m fine.” She nipped his concerned words in the bud. “Please, let’s find Perry.”
Silently, they resumed their walk, and Jax found herself in an unfamiliar corridor, where a very familiar door caught her eye. “George, isn’t that the door to Philippe’s bedroom?” She studied the gilded pattern etched into the dark wood.
“Can’t be. We haven’t even made it to the entrance of the royal tower yet.” George resumed walking, not realizing Jax still stood in place, examining the gaudy design.
“This looks exactly like the door to Philippe’s apartment,” Jax said, mostly to herself.
George finally stopped a few paces down the hall once he noticed she was not following. “What are you getting at?”
“Well,” Jax motioned to the doorway, “have you seen any other doors decorated this elaborately, besides the one belonging to Philippe?” She moved forward, and with her free hand, pushed on the regal gold handle until she heard a click. Raising an intrigued eyebrow, she pushed the door inward, darkness unfolding before her.
“Here.” George grabbed
a lit torch from the wall, handing it off to Jax once he reached her side at the doorway.
Brandishing the flame against the gloom, shadows dashed away, escaping the grasp of the dim light. Bookcases stood erect around the perimeter of the room, a large desk piled with scrolls and loose papers sitting in the center of the stone floor. “Philippe’s private study?” Jax turned to George, who nodded his agreement.
Stepping over the threshold, she urged George to follow her inside. “Let’s just take a look around.”
“And what exactly are we looking for?” he asked, uncertainty marring his features.
Scanning the rows and rows of disheveled and disordered tomes cluttering the bookshelves, Jax pursed her lips together. “I’m not sure. But Uma said something while we were out walking that got me thinking…” She paused, turning to face George. “Where did Philippe get his radical views from?”
Her Captain frowned at the question as he took the torch from her hand. “Perhaps his strained relationship with his father?”
“I doubt it.” Jax shook her head. “I mean, from everything Perry has shared with me, Philippe was the golden child in Cornelius’s eyes. He was destined to be the heir.” She ran a finger along a dust-covered shelf. “Cornelius only began to doubt Philippe once his darker ambitions began emerging.”
George tossed the flaming torch into the small fireplace, a flood of warmth bathing the room as it burst to life. “Do you know when the Duke began to see a change in his son?”
“Not entirely. But I think Perry did mention something about it while the Pettraud delegation was visiting for our wedding.” She searched her memory for the conversation she’d had months ago with her husband. “Something about him being surprised that Philippe didn’t accompany their father to the Lysandeir peace summit. Perry thought it strange that Cornelius would leave Philippe behind.”
George’s brows tightened. “Do you think the Duke noticed a change in his son around that time?”
Jax wandered over to the desk, littered with documents and used quills, lost in thought. Placing the swaddled dagger on a nearby chair, she began shuffling through the myriad of reports. Most were security or border patrol-related. Why does Philippe have these and not Cornelius? Was Cornelius delegating certain areas of the duchy’s management to his son as a test? Or had Philippe obtained these documents without his father’s knowledge? If the Duke’s mental health was as troubled as it appeared, perhaps he wouldn’t even know reports like these had gone missing.
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