to scent it. It smelled like cinnamon and vanilla, just enough to tell it was there. Given where we were, I knew instantly it was a brush off from the Prince, sending in a pretty distraction. I thought he loved me. He'd said so.”
Well, she believed it all and nothing hinted at a lie. Rolph was a cad. Well, he'd be hearing about this.
Tor grimaced.
“Let it be known that the statement isn't a lie.” Tor announced to the communications device, a small murmur coming from the other end, mainly female sounds of questioning, Tor thought.
Smythe looked at him and asked if Tor would clarify where the flower arrangement had come from. It didn't seem relevant to him, but he shrugged and picked up a truth medallion himself. If other people had to, so should he, right? Smythe raised his eyebrows, but nodded as if it were only proper.
“Um, well. I made it.” Maria looked shocked, and watched him closely. After about five seconds she seemed frightened, as the light didn't change.
“The gold ribbon was some stuff that Rolph, um Alphonse Cordes, had from a present his mother had sent him, part of the wrapping, he let me have it, since he was just going to toss it out anyway. So I spent a few weeks in the basket shop in town in my free time, trying to figure out how it could be done. That one was the fourth attempt. I'd seen Maria in class and hadn't had the nerve to talk to her at that point, so I had time. I still had a very strong accent then and figured a bumpkin shouldn't approach a fine lady like her, but… Alphonse said that if I liked a girl, I wouldn't profit by not telling her either, so I worked on it while I got up my courage and learned to speak properly. I'd never asked a girl on a date before.” Everyone watched him, waiting for more so he continued.
“I'd picked some of the flowers early and dried them in my dorm room, hanging up, because I was told that the good arrangements had them. I found some wild herbs in the woods, but they didn't keep their scent well, so I spent most of my money on a tiny vial of cinnamon, and when I told the lady at the store my plan she let me have a vial of vanilla too, in return for sweeping and scrubbing her store twice a day for two weeks. Then I collected most the fresh flowers that day, since I was off classes anyway and put it all together. That's all.”
It was what had happened, so nothing flickered. It had been silly of him, of course. He should have known before he walked up to her that he wasn't enough, that she was too good for someone like him. Then she didn't just refuse him, she made sure he knew all the reasons why he was bad and no one would ever love him. It kind of made sense at the time. Tor wasn't good enough, his stupid flowers weren't good enough, and he should die.
He'd felt like doing just for a long time. It was part of the case, so he spoke all of it out loud, trying to keep his voice clear and crisp. People would need to know he wasn’t lying about anything after all. Even if it hurt to say. It came out a little coldly. To his ears at least.
No one bothered to look at him when he was done, ignoring his own discomfort, or possibly just not wanting to be asked if they thought it was how things really were and have to lie to comfort him like people sometimes did out of friendship or common courtesy. Trice didn't even bother with one of her mock glares. She just looked at Maria.
Putting down the amulet and turning it off, his light went out.
There was sobbing, gentle but loud enough to hear, coming over the communications device. What that was about Tor didn't really know. It sounded like more than one person. Varley and Connie? Too hard to tell for certain.
Smythe gave him a moment to make sure he wasn't going to lose it and cry himself, but that wouldn't happen, he'd live it for years, he was ready right then to keep going he assured them all, his voice no more than a little flat and cold. Maria, coached by Smythe kept on with her tale from that point.
“So I took the flowers, too… um… rich for an obviously poor boy and threw them at him, then I called him every name I could think of. In rage, but..”
Laval it turned out was fascinated with that event, talking about it often, painting Tor as the true villain of the story, possibly influencing the Prince against her, so that he could capture her heart for himself, but when that failed, he lay in wait, plotting against her. Tor listened but almost laughed. Him? Plot? What could he have plotted. More… why?
Ellen Ward finally looked at him and nodded slowly, telling him something with her eyes he didn't understand. Oh, well, old issues being brought up or not, he was here to work, to stop a war and find the truth. They looked pretty innocent so far. The grilling got more intense for the next hour, with broader questions being asked. It turned out that Martya was a spy, placed by the Wards to watch him and get secrets out of him that might help them in their case. Or had been one.
“That lasted all of a day though. The next evening she came and gave my money back, ten gold solid, and told me she wasn't whoring for anyone anymore and that I could shove my gold up my behind. Actually she said ass.” The large Count said it with a smile and head shake. “It's that ice business of hers. She makes three times that on a slow day and that's just her share. I'd have moved her off the lawn for spite, but her business is a public service, isn't it? It would cheat my people to send her off to a less easily reached location. Besides, it's a handy thing to have close.” The large Count may have been thwarted, but he smiled about it, as if it were a grand joke. Or maybe that he was proud of a girl that he'd seen around most of her life rising in the world?
Then, they'd probably been lovers at some point too. It could have been something more than simple pride. Tor didn't check. It wasn't his business to know all about everyone around him. It felt like cheating somehow. Dirty.
Then everyone else was questioned about their involvement, just as hard, the servants asked mainly about Laval, after clearing themselves. They all had bits of information to share, things the man had said to them, what he liked to eat and who they'd seen him with. Ellen cleared her name in minutes, simply starting a litany that covered all questions asked before. Smythe smiled and gave her a seated bow, declaring her no longer a suspect without asking a single additional question. Not that Tor had doubted that for a second. Really, he hadn't even considered it a possibility. Probably why Smythe was in charge.
Trice…
Her story was different than any Tor had ever heard. She was, off and on, Maria's girlfriend, not just lover and had been involved, briefly, with the Count, but focused a lot more on the Countess. No one cared, not any of the royals. A spike of envy washed through Tor when he heard. But she wasn't his and hadn't ever really been, had she? His jealousy was irrelevant anyway, so he tried to let it go. Laval, however, had paid a lot of attention to her for a long while.
“He played me like a violin. I thought he was trying to get information about the Wards, or maybe for them, but now… yes, it always did come back to Tor. It was like…” Her eyes went blank as she sat still suddenly, a memory trance.
Smythe started to ask her to continue, but Tor held out a hand and shook his head a little. The older man tilted his head, but she didn't take twenty minutes or anything thankfully.
“He kept talking about him in terms of the unknown and the unknowable. He never really explained what it meant. It was a real thing to him though. I'd kind of figured he was obsessed with Maria, so wanted to do things to get her attention when I figured out the Tor part, but with all of them at Queen’s day…”
Yeah, that was kind of telling. The Wards didn't have that kind of clout. No one did, except the Austrans. Even the King of Noram couldn't bring seven identical assassins into play. But why would an Austran agent want to hurt or kill Tor overly? He wasn't a threat to them, not personally. Heck if there was no war, Tor wouldn't even know that the place existed hardly. Especially back then. He would have been a schoolboy. He'd still be one, maybe. Then, he hadn't left school over that, he gone away because of Trice. Still those things were related. What would have really happened if he'd never been poisoned?
She talked for a while, until things started going black with almost every statement. The field wouldn't allow it.
Heh. Right. Spy.
The King ordered the room cleared, claiming that this may be concerning things that verged on sensitive royal family matters. The room was emptied, except for Smythe, Trice, and one very confused little builder. Why hadn't he been kicked out?
“Answer honestly now Patricia.” The King told her, sounding amused.
“Uncle Richard, Tor is still here…” She was so uncertain she shook. Or maybe it was fear?
The King asked if Tor had one of the silence bubbles, which he did, about a hundred of them in the case next to him against the wall. It wasn't the work one for the investigation, just the stuff to go to the merchants in Printer
