'What will you do with it?' he asked.
'You'll see tomorrow,' she said. 'Rest easy, Jorani. Peto will never believe him when he sees how Mihael acts tomorrow. Incidently, when Peto summons you, don't rush down.' As she walked past him, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him lightly on the lips. Some of the dust must have leaked through her makeshift mask because he felt suddenly confused himself, and a bit dizzy. He sat at the table and stared at the spider in its hanging crystal home.
So deadly. So innocent. So like the child.
The pounding on his door woke Mihael the following morning. He'd intended to get up early and speak to Baron Peto before anyone else did, but apparently he'd misjudged the time. Still hoping to tell his side of the events before Ilsabet and Jorani met with Peto, Mihael dressed quickly, taking time only to wet down and comb his unruly hair and to brush his mustache-or what there was of it.
People had been laughing at him ever since he began growing it in the hopes of looking older, more worthy of respect. Even though it was finally thick enough to be noticeable, he still heard comments that it seemed out of place on a face that otherwise only needed a shave every three days or so.
'Compensating for youth,' he repeated aloud, wondering why the taunt that he usually ignored seemed so galling this morning.
His nerves were on edge, he decided, and rightfully so. Peto wasn't likely to believe him, but then Peto was a fool for a pretty face. As he bent over to wash his face, he grimaced from the pain of last night's wound. They were all fools, including himself for letting Jorani enrage him so.
Vowing to keep his temper today, he went downstairs. When Mihael arrived, Peto and Shaul were sitting at the table and a servant was pouring tea. Peto had apparently just risen. His hair was uncombed, his feet bare. 'Would you like a cup of tea while we wait for the others?' Peto asked.
'Actually, I'd like a chance to speak to you in private,' Mihael replied.
'I believe this is private enough,' Peto replied and placed a cup and saucer in front of him. The cup was large, the handle delicately curved. The rim was trimmed in gold and a painted black dragon curved around the inside of the cup.
Mihael was used to two meals a day; one late in the morning and the other at dusk. To him, Peto's habits seemed far too civilized. And having his lieutenant sit at his table clearly created a lack of respect. Peto was the ruler, but all too often he seemed to forget it, giving his iackeys a respect they did not deserve. For the first time, he considered that Peto's sophistication might be a handicap in Kislova. Indeed, as he thought of it further-with incredible speed-he reached the conclusion that it was amazing that Sundell had managed to defeat Kislova at all.
'I understand that you and Lord Jorani were arguing last night?' Peto began.
Mihael nodded. Now that his hair was almost dry, the locks fell forward and Mihael ran his hand through them, pushing them back. He felt dull from lack of sleep and nervous as well. Last night anger and fear had made him impetuous. Today, he wasn't certain how to approach this matter.
'Can you explain?' Peto asked.
The baron's voice was too gentle, patronizing. But Mihael was no child, and this was not his imagination. 'I believe that the poison in my sister's room was left there by her. I think she killed Greta deliberately.'
'And this is what you were discussing with Lord Jorani?'
The thinly veiled sarcasm in Peto's reply infuriated Mihael. He fought down the urge to beat some sense into the man. With Shaul sitting between them, Mihael would never have a chance to reach him. Mihael took a deep breath. 'In part,' he said, then plunged on. 'Though you refuse to consider it, I also think she killed Marishka.'
'What was her reason?'
'Because Marishka was going to marry you.'
'She knew the marriage would benefit your family,' Peto replied.
'Her family doesn't matter,' Mihael said. Though he saw the disbelief in Peto's expression, he continued. 'It's revenge she wants, and she got it. You loved Marishka, and Ilsabet took her from you. If you knew my sister as well as I do, you'd know that was motive enough.'
'What did Jorani say when you told him this?'
Peto didn't believe him, would never believe him.
Mihael licked his lips, then wiped them with his hand. His heart raced as if he had been running, raced faster than it had last night when he faced Jorani. 'He didn't deny it. Instead he said that they both hoped that I would one day rule Kislova.'
'I see. Why did you draw your blade?'
'Because he lied. They're plotting against me just as they are against you. I'll be their next victim. I can see it in how she looks at me. I told Jorani that, but he said I had to calm down, to try to be reasonable and rational. My life and yours are both at stake and he would not let me come and warn you.'
As he spoke the last few words, Mihael's voice grew louder, and there was a sharp hysterical tone to it. He pushed himself to his feet and walked around the table toward Peto. Always protective of his lord, Shaul drew his sword and placed himself between the men, using the side of the blade to hold Mihael back.
Mihael pressed against it and was flung back. To Peto, both men seemed overwrought, almost dazed by strong emotion.
'He protects you,' Mihael said. 'But can you really be so certain about his loyalty?'
'I am,' Peto answered evenly.
The servant knocked, entered. 'The baroness is here. Shall I send her in?' he asked.
Peto considered speaking to her separately, then decided it was best if brother and sister confronted one another in his presence. He nodded, then told Mihael to return to his chair. The young man didn't seem to hear him, and instead stayed where he was, shaking with rage.
Ilsabet entered the room. She wore a white morning gown trimmed in pink satin ribbons and a pair of delicate white sandals. Her hair was tied back, her face washed free of all powders and colors. She looked younger than usual, calmer, and far more beautiful.
'Hello, Mihael,' she said as she walked past him, taking the chair he'd abandoned. Peto noted that Mihael backed away from her, as if she had ingested some poison that could harm him if she touched him. 'You wanted to see me about what happened last night, I assume,' she said to Peto.
He asked her to tell her story. She did, lying only about how she had heard the argument. She told him that she had been getting ready for bed when she heard someone fall against the wall separating their rooms. 'I knew someone must be fighting in there. I was concerned for my brother so I found a guard.'
'Your brother says you were less concerned about him than you were about what he might say to me.'
Ilsabet frowned and looked at her brother. 'I don't understand what's gotten into you, Mihael.'
'All these deaths,' Mihael replied. He wanted to end this once and for all. If he'd been armed, he would have fought his way past Shaul and stuck a sword in her heart. She deserved it for what she'd done. He'd undoubtedly die as a result, but it was better to go that way than to wait until she brought him down some night when his back was turned.
He thought of all the ways she could do it. His horse could spook as Marishka's had. He could drink from a glass with a poisoned rim. He could eat, could touch, could breathe, could…
His mind went round and round from one deadly scheme to another and another. As it did, his rage increased to such intensity that he wondered why Peto could not hear the beating of his heart.
'Mihael tells me you and Jorani wish to see him one day rule,' Peto went on.
'Don't you?' Ilsabet replied. 'Wouldn't Mihael ruling as your ally mean that you could finally return to Sun- dell? You've said often that's what you truly want.'
'So I have,' Peto admitted.
Why didn't Peto see what she was doing with those pale eyes and those long blond lashes that shaded them. Even the white dress had been deliberately picked to give her the guise of an innocent child.
'I'm disappointed,' she said. 'Unless he stops seeing plots everywhere, he'll never be able to succeed my father, and that would be the real tragedy.'
'How dare you!' Mihael screamed.
Shaul moved close to him, ready to hold him back if need be. Mihael whirled. For an instant, they locked
