“What are you talking about?” Margosha asked.
“I won the wager!” Olenka opened the bag and let the gold coins spill out onto the table. “Gwennore cut the general last night, just like I asked her to!”
Annika jumped to her feet, giving Gwennore an incredulous look. “You cut Silas?”
“No!” Gwennore shook her head.
Olenka pulled her into another hug. “How can I ever thank you?”
“You cut Silas?” This time Annika and Margosha said it in unison.
“No!” Gwennore pushed Olenka back. “It was—”
“Don’t worry,” Olenka interrupted. “It was only a tiny nick. Although it is a bit sad that you aimed at his gorgeous face.” She gave Gwennore a disapproving frown.
“I didn’t do it,” Gwennore protested. “Silas cut himself.”
Olenka gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “You asked him to do it for you, and he did?” Her eyes glimmered with tears. “That’s so romantic!”
“No, it’s not!” Gwennore grimaced. “Holy goddesses, I could never ask someone to hurt himself. It was an accident. Silas nicked himself while he was shaving this morning.”
Olenka blinked. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Gwennore planted her hands on her hips. “I saw it, myself.”
“Wait a minute.” Annika stepped closer. “You were with him while he was shaving?”
Gwennore bit her lip. “Well, I dropped by for a few minutes.”
Annika snorted. “Right.” She gave the other women a knowing look.
“I should have known.” Olenka’s shoulders slumped as she picked up the coins and dropped them back into the bag. “I’ll have to return the money.”
“Why should you?” Gwennore asked. “If they were foolish enough to—”
“Because if I accept it, it’s the same as me saying that you did cut the general. I should have known you would never do such a thing.” Olenka stuffed the bag back into her pocket. “I let a moment of excitement and greed cloud my judgment.”
Gwennore touched her shoulder. “I won’t be offended if you keep it.”
“No.” Olenka raised her chin. “If I had acted like a true friend, then I would have been offended on your behalf. I’m taking it back, and I’m going to tell them the truth, that you would never hurt anyone.”
Gwennore hugged her. “Thank you.”
Olenka gave them all a grin, then scampered out the door.
Margosha chuckled. “There’s hope for her after all.”
With a smile, Gwennore wandered over to the bowls where the first casket of jewelry was being tested. Her smile faded when she noted that two of the lily pads were starting to shrivel around the edges.
“We may have found more poisoned jewelry.” She fished out the ring resting at the bottom of the first bowl. A large sapphire. The metal seemed a bit dull to be silver. “What do you think this is? Pewter?”
Margosha examined the ring. “Perhaps. This was a birthday present for Her Majesty, so she’s had it about four months.”
“A present?” Annika frowned. “From her husband?”
Margosha nodded as she dropped the ring back into the bowl.
Gwennore fished out the second suspicious piece of jewelry. Another ring, this one an opal. Once again, the metal was a dull grayish color.
“The queen received that one last summer as an anniversary present,” Margosha said.
“From her husband,” Annika muttered.
Gwennore glanced at her. The king was Annika’s cousin, so she obviously didn’t want to see him as a villain. “I don’t think he’s the one trying to hurt her. The culprit would be whoever is supplying him with this jewelry.”
Margosha nodded. “I agree. And these rings couldn’t be the only things hurting Her Majesty. She’s been ill for several years, but these rings were given to her this last year.”
Gwennore located the emerald ring that they also suspected was tainted. It was also set in a dull silver-colored metal. “But it’s true that in the past year, her illness has worsened quite a bit?”
Margosha winced. “Yes.”
So the rings had accelerated a problem that already existed. Gwennore set the ring down and looked at her hands. Was she exposing herself and her friends to poison? “Let’s heat up some water and wash our hands.”
“Good point.” Annika filled up a kettle and put it over the fire.
“We should wear gloves from now on.” Margosha rushed out the door.
After she returned and they had washed up, Gwennore wandered to the window to look at the village below. She’d always thought it was charming, but Silas had to see it differently, knowing that his mother had thrown herself off the bridge that spanned the Norva River. “The late queen suffered from madness, too. How many queens have been affected over the centuries?”
“A few.” Margosha joined her at the window. “Some of the queens died in childbirth. Others died from the plague. But all the ones who survived to their old age went mad.”
Gwennore recalled how her sisters Luciana and Brigitta always said it was good to be queen. Apparently, that wasn’t true in Norveshka. “So there’s never been a happy queen here.”
Margosha shook her head. “Not for five hundred years. That’s why people believe in the curse.”
“And why men from the Three Cursed Clans are reluctant to marry,” Annika grumbled.
She had to be referring to Dimitri, Gwennore thought. Silas didn’t seem at all afraid of marriage. “There must be something that all the queens have had in common. Something that links them together.”
Annika joined them at the window. “You mean something other than marrying into a cursed clan?”
Gwennore nodded. “Something tangible. Something that could be poisonous.” She glanced at the caskets. “Does any of the jewelry date back to the first queen?”
Margosha frowned while she considered. “There might be a few pieces, but they’re so old-fashioned that Her Majesty never wore them.”
“There has to be something—” Gwennore stopped with a gasp. “The crowns. How old are they?”
Margosha turned pale. “Oh, my.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “They—they were a gift to the first king, Magnus, when the Ancient Ones agreed to let him and his wife rule in their stead.”
“So the Ancient Ones made the crowns?” Annika asked, and Margosha nodded.
Had the Ancient Ones
