Burdened Bloodline

by Sarah E. Burr

  George joined her, and together they sifted through the reams of parchment, both unsure what they were really looking for. Jax moved her attention to the desk drawers in search of answers.

  “He’s locked the bottom one.” Crouching down, Jax glanced up at George as she tugged on the rigid handle. “Any chance you’ve come across a key on your side of the desktop?”

  He shook his head. “If he had something to hide, I doubt he’d leave a key just lying around for one of his brothers to find.”

  Reaching into her pile of caramel curls, Jax pulled out a thin, dangerous-looking hairpin. “Let’s hope this works, then.”

  Digging around in the lock, it took a few minutes for the tumblers to ring out with a congratulatory click.

  “Nice work, Duchess,” George said, a dry smirk stretching across his lips.

  She pulled open the drawer, her hopes rising and deflating in an instant. “Stupid boys.” She groaned, rocking back on her heels. “He’s just been hiding his tobacco supply.” She pointed to the contents of the drawer—a small container overflowing with dry, brittle leaves. “How uncouth.”

  George knelt beside her, and with careful fingers, picked up a dried leaf. “I’ve seen my men smoke enough tobacco to know this isn’t what it looks like.”

  Jax’s nose wrinkled as a musty smell wafted over her. “And it doesn’t smell like it, either.” Examining the specimen George held pinched in his fingers, she frowned. “Could it be some other type of recreational pleasure?”

  “I suppose. I don’t really know of anything that looks like this.” George placed the leaf back into the tiny chest.

  And if it was recreational, why lock it away? Jax couldn’t hide her disappointment as she sat on the stone floor, her skirts fanning out around her. She had a locked drawer in her personal study back home containing state secrets and private correspondence that would never see the light of day. All Philippe could think to put in his was pipe weed?

  A quick intake of breath from George startled her. “Wait a minute,” he said as he reached back into the drawer, his fingers running along the seam of the wood. “There’s a little lip here, at the bottom.” His fingernail curled under the slight imperfection and with a jerk, the whole floor of the drawer shifted.

  “It’s a false bottom!” With a burst of excitement, Jax removed the box of dried leaves and placed them to the side as George lifted the interior lining out of her way. Where a drawer bottom had just been now revealed a mass of neatly stacked, dated papers.

  Jax gingerly scooped the contents of the drawer out and onto her lap. “The first one here is dated nearly a year ago.”

  “Who is it from?”

  Jax scanned the letter, her eyes widening with each line. “It’s addressed to the Crown Prince from Duke Savant!”

  George’s eyes darkened. “What on earth was Philippe doing corresponding with that traitor?”

  She read through the next letter, dated only a few weeks after the first. “Savant was voicing his concern over the future of Pettraud, and whether it would remain a key political influencer for much longer. He frequently states that Pettraud must stand on its own.”

  “Why would he think that?”

  Jax glanced at the dates scrawled across the top of each page. “My engagement to Perry was announced shortly before their correspondence began…”

  George shifted to sitting cross-legged on the floor, taking the first letter from Jax to read for himself. “Savant has been trying to undermine your power for far longer than we originally suspected.”

  Jax studied the next few letters in silence. “He clearly intended to poison Philippe against us. With my marriage to Perry all but securing an unbreakable alliance between Duke Pettraud and Saphire, Savant aimed to corrupt the next generation.” She held out another letter for George to read. “This one is dated only a few weeks before the Lysandeir peace summit.”

  George read the script out loud. “I’d be honored if you would join me in Savant whilst your father heads north to witness Lysandeir’s foolish attempt at taming Cetachi. I’d question the sanity of my counterparts if they actually agree to give those barbarians any rights at all.”

  Jax shuddered at the menace lacing the words. “Philippe must have opted to visit Savant, rather than be at his father’s side during the Cetachi talks.” She shuffled through the documents, their tone only growing more alarming. “Whatever happened during his visit south changed Philippe. The replies Savant sent in the subsequent months are laden with adulation for Philippe’s ‘inspired reasoning’ and praise of the Crown Prince’s insights into Pettraud’s ‘gloriously approaching future’.”

  “Savant succeeded in corrupting Philippe, making the Crown Prince think his ideas were his own, and not spoon-fed to him by the Duke.” George’s features set in a hard line.

  “Virtues.” Fear ghosted down her spine. “George, listen to this. Savant wrote Philippe only days after my wedding. ‘Your raven arrived bearing extremely unsettling news. Our fears have been realized. Duchess Saphire is expanding her foul reach and poisoning the other duchies. With Isla DeLacqua under her rule, it is time we made our move to secure a just and noble future. If your father cannot see what her true intentions are, then perhaps the reign of Philippe the Wise should begin sooner rather than later. I’m trusting you to handle this, alone’.”

  George took the letter from her hand and read the chilling message for himself. “In other words, Savant ordered Philippe to dethrone his father.”

  Jax rubbed her arms, trying to control the trembling nerves assaulting her body. “I don’t want to believe it…but the timing, it all makes sense.” She stood, putting the incriminating documents on the desk before she began to pace, stepping on the sinister shadows created by the roaring fire. “The Duke’s illness. It began shortly after he returned from Saphire. Philippe had to be behind it somehow.”

  George picked up the box of dried leaves and brought it over to her. “We need to figure out what type of plant this is.”

  Jax met his firm gaze. “You think it’s some type of poison? What about the meal testers? Lenora and Shavon both said Cornelius’s food and drink is checked before every meal.”

  “Perhaps Philippe figured a way around it? He could have laced the food right at the table, after it had been served to his father.”

  Jax grabbed the Savant letters and the shrouded dagger, motioning for George to follow her with the dried leaves. “Abra gave me an old Ancient Faith text on poisonous plants before we departed the Oasis. It might contain something of use.”

  The two hurried along the winding passages until they were safely back in the guest wing. Barging into her suite, Jax tossed the growing pile of evidence on a table in the sitting room before hastening to the neatly arranged pile of luggage that had been brought up by the footmen. With George’s help, she unearthed a blue leather trunk and went to work digging through the folded clothing inside, hoping Uma had packed the book in this case and not one of the many others.

  “Here it is,” Jax said in breathless triumph, tugging the large, worn tome from the depths of the trunk. “Goodness, I had hoped I’d never need to refer to this again, and certainly not so soon.”

  Plopping down on a sofa, she began to flip through the brittle pages, taking care not to rip them. George perched by her side, lending his eyes to the search.

  “What do we know about the Duke’s symptoms? Maybe that can help us narrow down what we’re searching for?” he suggested.

  Jax listed them, counting off on her fingers. “Well, it began with sleepwalking, then escalated into confusion, forgetfulness, and extended memory loss.” The Duke’s sad eyes filled her mind. “And there were the visions of his late wife.”

  George drummed his hand rhythmically on the arm of the sofa. “Visions, confusion, sleepwalking…what if Philippe was giving his father some type of hallucinogenic? To addle the Duke’s mind so he’d be forced to step down from the throne?”

  Excitement rushed
through Jax’s veins as she thumbed through the pages until she reached the relevant section of the book. With their heads almost touching as they hovered over the hand-drawn images and physical descriptions, they compared the leaves in the small box to the plants chronicled in the text. “Too thorny, too small, wrong color, wrong smell, extinct, too leafy…” Jax’s eyes flashed back to the herbal chest before returning to the page. “What about this one? Have you ever heard of nightworm before?”

  George’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t think so, but the physical description certainly matches, and the drawing isn’t far off.”

  Jax flipped forward a few pages, finding the in-depth details of nightworm root. “Indigenous to the northern wetlands of the continent, nightworm was first used by soothsayers who claimed a connection to the gods through the vivid, mind-altering visions the root brought forth. The effects of the plant do not take effect until the root has been ingested repeatedly over an extended length of time. The visions are sporadic and uncontrollable, and soothsayers eventually moved on to other, more reliable methods. Side effects from consuming nightworm over an extended period include memory loss and aggravated sleeping patterns.”

  “Bloody hell,” George whispered, running a hand nervously over his short-cropped hair.

  Jax digested the information from the old Ancient Faith text with what she knew. “I’d bet my duchy that Philippe opted to use nightworm to drive his father crazy. It’s the perfect plan, really. The effects only begin to show over time, after multiple doses. Lenora said they have an army of food and drink tasters. If a different person is checking the Duke’s meals each day, they’d never even realize they were being drugged. It sounds like nightworm is only effective when its consumed on a regular basis, which the Duke has been doing for months now.”

  “Except when he was ill with a stomach bug.” George pointed out.

  Jax nodded. “He didn’t eat anything except Lenora’s tinctures. That’s why he began to feel better afterward. The nightworm was no longer ravaging his system.”

  “Yet, once he returned to normal eating and drinking habits, Philippe was able to lace his food again.”

  “Everyone always assumed the stomach bug was just another symptom of the Duke’s flourishing illness,” Jax mused, “but it wasn’t. It actually gave him a brief respite.”

  George stood and went to the window, gazing out at the vast landscape, now covered in thunderous darkness. “Do you recall Ivan mentioning that just before he left to collect us at the Oasis, the Duke stopped eating his food?”

  Jax’s heart skipped a beat. “Yes. Ivan was worried his father had taken a turn for the worse.” She rose from the sofa and hurried to his side. “Do you think Cornelius suspected he was being poisoned? Do you think he told any of Perry’s brothers about his suspicions?”

  A grim expression settled across the Captain’s face. “I think we need to have a word with the Duke immediately.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jax gathered her evidence to show the Duke, declining George’s offer to help her carry everything. The book, the box of nightworm, Savant’s letters, and the wrapped dagger hummed in her arms, as if they were alive and trying to tell her something.

  It felt as though years had passed by the time they reached the entrance to the royal tower, but their quick pace had actually gotten them there in less than five minutes.

  “Duchess Jacqueline needs to speak with Duke Pettraud urgently,” George said with a salute as they approached the guards under the archway.

  Sharing consenting expressions with one another, the two soldiers standing in front of the entrance moved aside. “The Prince Consort is currently visiting with the Duke.”

  “They won’t mind the interruption. Thank you.” Jax rushed breathlessly past the sentries, taking the stairs two at a time while juggling the contents in her hands, as well as the hem of her dress. The Duke’s rooms were on the floor above his sons’ suites. George was the first to arrive at Cornelius’s door, his fist pounding heavily on the wood.

  “Duke Pettraud! Perry! Please, open up. It’s Jacqueline!” Jax called, her voice penetrating the barrier. A flurry of movement responded to her cries, and the door swung open.

  A confused Perry greeted them. “Hello? What’s going on? What is all this?” He pointed at Jax’s overflowing arms.

  She pushed past him, into the grand sitting room of the Duke of Pettraud. A fire danced its warmth across the stone floor, thwarting the reach of the dark clouds that hovered outside the window. “Where is your father, Perry?”

  “Jacqueline? What’s the meaning of this?” Cornelius, dressed in a fine velvet robe, appeared in the doorway leading to the inner sanctum of his ducal apartment.

  Relief punctured through her as she met his bright lavender gaze. He seemed much more alert than he had this morning. “Duke Pettraud, we’ve come across some unsettling information. You may want to take a seat.”

  His bushy brows rising, Cornelius shuffled over to the large armchair roosting near the hearth. “Have you unmasked Philippe’s attacker?”

  Jax placed her findings on one of the many elegant tables scattered around the room. “No, but we may have found the reason why Philippe was killed.”

  The Duke stiffened. “What did my son do to warrant murder?”

  Leafing through the Savant letters, Jax selected three that summed up their contents well enough. “Were you aware that Philippe was corresponding with Duke Savant?”

  Her father-in-law paled, and a few silent beats passed before he spoke. “I never had proof, no. But Philippe’s ideals began to shift significantly last year. The values he started touting at the dinner table…it frightened me. When I received the missive containing Savant and Beautraud’s condemnation of your actions last month, I noticed startling similarities aligning with Philippe’s changed ideals.” He scanned the letters, the wrinkles in his face deepening with every word. “Where did you find these?”

  “Philippe kept them locked away in his private study, hidden under a false bottom in a desk drawer,” Jax explained, her heart clenching at the pain in the man’s eyes.

  The Duke’s knuckles whitened as he finished reading the last page. “Savant wanted Philippe to kill me?”

  “What?” Perry roared, seizing the letter from his father. “This is treason!”

  Jax picked up the box of nightworm she’d brought along. “It seems Philippe didn’t have it in him to kill you, Cornelius. Instead, he set his sights on destroying your mind.” She explained what she and George had unearthed about nightworm and its effects. “Using this hallucinogenic root, he could make you—and others—believe you were mentality unfit to continue your rule, forcing you to pass the crown to him.”

  The Duke’s mouth hung slack for a time. “I thought everyone was overreacting about my health.”

  “Because you couldn’t remember what was happening to you,” Jax said gently. “One of the side effects of nightworm is irregular memory loss.”

  “Father, how do you feel now?” Perry asked, kneeling beside the Duke’s chair with concern.

  “Betrayed.” Bitterness consumed his words. “How could my own son do this to me?”

  Jax kept her distance, but offered words of wisdom she’d learned long ago. “The lure of absolute power can be blinding, dear Duke. Some people are not strong enough to resist its call.”

  Silence smothered the room for a time before Perry cleared his throat. “You’ve uncovered quite the nefarious plot, Jax, but where does Philippe’s murder fit in?”

  Jax gave him a sad smile. “I’m afraid I don’t have all the answers yet. But Cornelius,” she turned back to the wilting Duke, “did you have any idea Philippe was poisoning you? Why did you stop eating before we arrived?”

  “I-I don’t know?” Confusion saturated the Duke’s gaze. “I did?”

  Perry nodded. “Yes, you refused to eat anything.”

  “I don’t remember that…” Cornelius scratched his head.

 
; Jax moved closer to George, whispering from the side of her mouth. “What if he did, though, and the nightworm has wiped it from his memory? What if he told one of Perry’s brothers about it and they avenged their father?”

  “Could we blame them? Philippe does stand accused of treason.”

  Jax frowned, unsure how she felt about George’s comment. She was a champion of justice, but what was justice in this case? George was right; Philippe had committed treason by trying to unseat his father. If whoever killed him had known that, their actions could be seen in defense of the Crown…

  She reached for the cloaked dagger resting on the table, unwrapping the torn cloth from her dress to reveal the blade hidden inside. “I need to show you all something I found while walking the gardens with Uma this afternoon.” Jax held out her arms, showing the bloodied dagger to George, Perry, and Cornelius.

  “Where in the gardens did you find this?” Lines of anxiety bloomed across Perry’s forehead. “This is most certainly one of the throwing daggers from the archery range downstairs.”

  “At the center of the courtyard,” she replied. “It was buried underneath the flower bush next to the silver birch.”

  Perry’s eyes widened. “Mother’s begonias?” Trouble stormed in his gaze. “Who would dare place a murder weapon under Mother’s memorial? Who would stain her memory in such a way?” His temper flared as he spit out each word.

  Jax placed a calming hand on his tense back, a feeling of unease creeping into her stomach as she processed this new information. “What if it wasn’t meant as an affront, Perry, but in honor of her memory?”