“Is that wise?” Lady Mara asked.
“She’s sepier. I want her here for this.” When the woman scowled, Leon asked, “Do you have some reason for not wishing her present?”
This time the lady remained silent. His Grand Advisor, Dumont, rubbed his hands along the carved table. “She believes your sepier may be responsible for the child’s death.”
King Leon let loose a hearty laugh. Oh Gods, this will be an interesting day indeed. No one shared in his humor, and when he raised an eyebrow at Dumont, the man shrugged and stared at the table.
“Think on it, Sire. Amaskans are known killers,” Lady Mara said.
“So are Tribor.”
The lady touched her hand to her forehead. I’ve done enough hiding this week. How can they advise me if I keep secrets?
“There’s something you should know,” he said. Leon downed an entire cup of chilled wine without blinking. “The Tribor are in Alesta.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Margaret held the dagger like it might turn around and bite her, and Adelei bit back a laugh. “Again,” she said and watched Margaret tap the stuffed figure with the dagger’s tip. “Your Highness, I’ve seen you poke fruit with more force than that. If this figure is trying to kill you, and you can’t run, you’re going to have to do more than stick it.”
The princess tried again, this time with force enough to dent the coarse muslin. Adelei seized Margaret’s elbow and thrust the blade forward until it sunk into the stuffed figure. “Like that, Your Highness.”
“So hard? That feels unseemly.”
“It is, Your Highness. You’re trying to possibly kill someone.”
Margaret dropped the blade. “I’ll not kill. It’s against the Thirteen.”
“If someone is trying to kill you, would you stand there and allow them to do so?”
“No, I would scream.”
Adelei sighed. “What good would screaming do?”
“It would bring help.”
Her sister’s lip trembled. Adelei handed her the blade once more. “If you’re somewhere alone, no one might come. By the time you’ve sat there and waited, you’d be long dead. Try again.”
Round and round they went, Margaret putting up protest after protest as to why she couldn’t and wouldn’t stab the straw man, while Adelei ground her teeth and tried yet again to describe the danger they were all in. Gods forbid I take her away from time with her precious betrothed. It’s enough to make me kill something.
When the knock interrupted them, Adelei was grateful for the interruption. The page bowed to them both. “His Majesty requests Master Adelei’s presence in the council chambers. Immediately.”
“Am I needed as well?” asked Margaret, and when the boy shook his head, the princess smirked.
Adelei stopped her at the door. “Wait. You’ll need an escort.” When Margaret opened her mouth, Adelei continued. “Any time I’m not with you, you will be accompanied by Captain Fenton or several guards. We’ve already been over this, so no argument.”
She summoned the guards just outside and as Margaret passed, the princess merely frowned. No ugly face? We’ve made progress then.
While Adelei walked in the opposite direction of her sister, she couldn’t help but laugh at Margaret’s feeble attempts to stab the hay-stuffed figure. Gods help her if she’s ever attacked for real. She’ll probably try to offer them tea.
By the time she reached the council chambers, her humor was gone. Six faces watched her, all grim and tired.
The council chambers reminded her of her own room in that it held no windows and had only a single means of escape. The plain decor emphasized the importance of the room—nothing to detract from the people within it. Grand Advisor Dumont sat one end and her father at the other. Their grim faces gave her more answers than they knew.
Something is wrong, or worse—someone is dead. King Leon gestured for her to take a seat in the chair squeezed back into the corner.
“This afternoon, one of the guards found the body of a young girl in an alley in the lower circle—a child with red hair,” said King Leon. He coughed then, a spasming cough that shook his massive frame and stopped his speech momentarily. A quick swallow of liquid and he continued. “They brought her body here, and I believe her to be the child you and I saw yesterday.”
The child from Prince Gamun’s court.
“How was she killed?” Adelei asked.
Dumont nudged King Leon’s glass, and he took another long sip, the thick liquid calming the spasm. “Her body was mutilated, Master Adelei. Someone beat her, and then carved across her skin until she died.” Dumont stared at the table as he spoke and avoided looking directly at her.
Adelei glanced at her father. “I’m surprised you were able to recognize her if her body was cut up that much.”
“That’s what you were hoping at least,” said an advisor to Adelei’s right. The advisor leaned across the table. “The marks on her—circles. Nothing but circles. Told you this was the work of an Amaskan.”
The statement was so silly, Adelei laughed. She held her sides as she continued to laugh in their silence. “Lady Mara, is it?” she asked, and the woman nodded. “My lady, Amaskans don’t kill children.”
As the words left her mouth, she paused. Or do they? After all, they were going to kill me. Her father nodded in her direction, as if reading her mind, but she waved it aside. “Besides, no Amaskans are here.”
“You know this how?” An advisor, a Lord Jovoni if she recalled correctly, peered at her. The flush on his olive complexion tried to match the red hat on his head. “Are you yourself not Amaskan?”
Adelei stared at her father, but he, too, avoided looking at her directly. She tucked away her irritation and faced Lord Jovoni. “My employer of the past was once the Order of Amaska, but no longer. That is a contract I’ve been cut from. This knowledge is to remain secret as many lives are at risk by your knowing.”
“Master Adelei, our job is to advise the King, which we can’t
