“Yes,” Relam said firmly.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Narin said flatly.
Relam frowned, confused. “Why not?”
“Why would they act in stealth for so long? Who could be so patient as to wait a full year? Why not just kill you and your parents outright?”
“If the royal family were slaughtered, the kingdom would fall into chaos,” Relam replied. “Anyone who stepped in to assume power would immediately become a suspect. If we were to all die seemingly natural deaths, a quiet takeover would be more acceptable.”
“Especially if the succession were in doubt,” Narin agreed. “That may help us narrow down our suspects.”
“How so?”
“We can focus on people who stand to gain from a power vacuum,” Narin explained. “The great lord families, first of all. Some of the more influential lords in the Assembly are worth keeping an eye on. Maybe some of the city officials. I’ll put together a list and go from there.”
“Don’t ignore anyone just because we think they could not gain from a power vacuum,” Relam cautioned. “We may have the motive completely wrong. And people overestimate their chances of success sometimes.”
“A fair point,” Narin agreed. He looked up at the healer and the two guards. “This stays with us for now,” he said firmly. “Not a word of what was discussed is repeated outside of this room by any of you, understood?”
The others all nodded gravely.
“If word leaks out about this, I swear to you that I will find out who talked and kill them myself,” Narin growled. He looked back at Relam. “Was there anything else, your highness?”
“No,” Relam said, shaking his head. “That’s all I remember. Aven may be able to fill in more of the gaps.”
“We’ll question him when he wakes,” Narin promised. “He’s being taken care of in the main room right now. His parents have been notified. Took us a while to track them down though. We hadn’t realized that they had moved onto the River Road.”
Relam nodded distractedly. As Narin let himself and the other guards out quietly, the young prince beckoned the healer closer.
“How is my father handling my mother’s death?”
“Your highness, I really don’t think-”
“Just tell me,” Relam ordered, cutting the healer off. “Please.”
The healer sighed. “Your father is not handling the loss well, your highness. He has gone into a state of shock. He hardly eats or drinks and does nothing but sit and stare into space. I do not know if he is merely grieving or if he has sunk into depression. The human mind is a tricky thing, your highness. We don’t understand it fully.”
“Has he said anything?”
“Not a word.”
Relam sat quietly, pondering this. “Thank you,” he said simply. “Do you know . . . do you know when the funeral will be?” He wiped his eyes surreptitiously and sniffed.
The healer smiled sadly. “Two days. The queen is being prepared for rest by her closest friends, since she has no parents or siblings.”
“And those are?”
“The Lady Thius and Lady Laurencian.”
Relam nodded thoughtfully. Lady Thius had always been a friend, and Lady Laurencian was something of an oddity among the nobility as well: friendly, intelligent, and kind.
“If that is all your highness-?”
“You may go,” Relam said, waving a hand to dismiss the man. “I need sleep as well.”
“Yes, your highness. Good night.”
The healer slipped out, closing and locking the door behind him. Relam lay back with a sigh, trying to find sleep. But he could not. For the first time since he had heard of his mother’s death, he was overcome not with anger, but grief. Tears poured from his half-closed eyes, blurring his vision and dampening his cheeks. His heart seemed to be rent in two, with no hope of repair.
“Life goes on,” Relam whispered, remembering his father’s words just two days earlier. But in the midst of that terrible, aching pain of grief, it seemed that even if life did go on, it was hardly worth living.
When Relam next woke, sunlight was streaming through the windows opposite his bed. Judging by the angle of the golden rays, it was nearly midday. Relam looked around sleepily and smiled with some amusement as he saw the lantern still burning in one corner of the room.
“No need for that,” he muttered, getting up and extinguishing the soft light. This done, he stretched carefully, wincing as the bruises on his arms and legs twinged painfully. His right hand was stiff and sore where he had been cut, and his fingers did not have their full range of movement.
After taking stock of his many injuries, Relam stumbled into the washroom. There, he filled the tub with scalding water and sank into it, closing his eyes, willing the water to wash away his hurts and pain. His stiff muscles slowly relaxed and the pain from his bruises dulled to an ache. But the agony in his chest remained crippling, assailing him suddenly and terribly. The grief returned and Relam found himself unable to breathe. After that brief moment of panic, the young prince climbed out of the tub and dried off, his heart heavy but many of his bodily hurts diminished.
When at last he was refreshed, Relam opened the door to the main room and ventured out, looking around curiously. Not much had changed in the royal apartment. The furniture was all the same, and standing in the same place. The fireplace was cold and empty, swept clean of ash. The floor was spotless, though the rug had taken a beating from the scuffle on the night of his mother’s death. It was dirty and stained in places, flecks of dried blood showing on the lighter portions. But more significantly, it
