Fiction: The Library of Eristat / The Seven Suitors, Chapter 7
A serialized mystery in a fantasy setting.
Author’s note: The Seven Suitors is a novel-length mystery in a fantasy setting I’ll be serializing here. It’s also the follow-up to the Library of Eristat story you may have read. Chapter One can be found here, the previous chapter can be found here.
No one had murdered Semote in his sleep last night. So the day could technically have started out worse.
Semote had wedged a table up against the door to his room before going to bed last night, motivated by a deep commitment to staying alive he half-rationalized as altruistic, given the unusual knowledge he possessed. Anyone trying to enter his room would at least make enough noise to wake him, or so he hoped. Uncertainty rather than fear had kept him up for most of the night. There were a tangle of mysteries, and nowhere close to enough data to begin unraveling them.
To say that the mood among his fellow guests had soured would be a severe understatement. The casual hum of conversation that had filled the great hall just yesterday morning had been replaced by clipped acknowledgements and wary glances. Most of the other suitors seemed to be unconsciously settling in with their backs to a wall, as if not wanting to leave an open flank for anyone to strike at. Semote would have liked to believe that the mistrust and hostility in the air was directed less at him than the others, but no one was exactly rushing out to shake his hand.
Darius seemed to be visibly sweating, which could fit equally well with him being innocent or guilty. After failing to catch the attention of Alexander, the foreign noble turned towards Semote.
“Please tell me you aren’t buying any of this.” Darius rushed out the words.
Semote looked at him, guessing what he was referring to. Someone must not have wasted any time in accusing the other foreigner. “I’m doing my best to keep an open mind.”
“I told you there was someone who was out to get us. Now they’re trying to frame me for murder, thinking they can eliminate two members of the competition with a single blow. It could just as easily have been you in my position.”
“If I’d gone off wandering on my own, maybe it would have been.”
Darius sighed in exasperation. “Not you too. Look. I know you have your suspicions about Rowena’s father. We both know I couldn’t have been involved, which means there was likely some noble prepared to kill before I ever arrived in Aeolia. Whoever did that must be the man we want. I know it’s not you. And you have to believe it’s not me. If they lock me up, that’s one less person to stop whoever this is from getting everything they want. You can’t let them get away with this.”
Darius gave him a grim look and shuffled away. Lucien was leaning up against a wall, waiting for Darius to leave before approaching Semote.
“I assume you know better than to fall for any of that.”
“Lucien. I seem to be in high demand today.”
Lucien gave him a condescending look. “Being innocent of murder doesn’t mean you’ve scored any points for your conduct, some might call that the baseline for polite society. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about. I’m sure you can see the hole in Darius’s story.”
“Which one did you have in mind?”
“Don’t try to be clever. Darius has been planting whispers about the death of Rowena’s father since he arrived, trying to sow ugly seeds of doubt around a family tragedy. By insinuating there was already a killer among our ranks, he thinks he can use that story as cover for whatever he wants to do. And out of everyone here, he has the least to fear from retaliation if something goes wrong, if he drops out we may never see him again. All the signs point to him, and his only defense is to try to link Valerian’s murder to an unfortunate coincidence.”
“I don’t see how you can be so confident it was a coincidence. I heard a heated argument broke out between her father and one of the suitors.”
Lucien was tight-lipped. “Yes. I know because it was with me.”
Semote’s eyes widened. That was a strange thing to admit. Did he know it would come out eventually, or…
“I’m telling you this so you can focus on the task at hand. So far as I know, no one else witnessed our discussion. I told Owen it was madness to wait and leave the future of his kingdom unknown. Lithos is rich but relies on its neighbors for security, and without a clear heir, he risked inviting a bloody conflict. Valerian’s death is proof of that. This whole competition is a mistake, Rowena should have declared for someone, anyone, rather than drag this out.”
“But I’m not sure how you can be certain there was no foul play, if he accepted any food or drink—”
Lucien shook his head. “Owen was already feeling ill when I spoke to him. He took nothing from me, and I saw all of the wine that had arrived before me unopened. Any of the other suitors should be able to tell you the same. Your friend Alexander, if you prefer.”
Semote paused, unsure of what to say. If the original death that brought him here had been an unfortunate coincidence, that nullified his original reason for coming. But the immediate incidence of another murder made everything else seem more suspicious.
Lucien gave him one last piercing look. “Do your own investigations, if you must, just try not to reopen old wounds in front of the princess. And make sure to conduct yourself appropriately. If you try to play off the princess’s fears to force her to pick you in the interests of her safety, you will lose whatever goodwill you may have earned here so far. It will be down to you and Alexander if this matter of Valerian’s death isn’t resolved. Do the honorable thing.”
Cedric appeared to have been watching their conversation, but looked away when Semote glanced back at him. Wesley had his arms crossed, leaning up against the wall, apparently lost in his own thoughts. There were questions he had for both of them, but those would be better resolved in private. A quiet but intense conversation caught his attention, Semote spotted Gideon speaking with one of the guards in the corner of the great hall. Gideon was making gestures with his hands, holding them apart to denote a certain length. Semote guessed he was trying to describe the details of the weapon they were looking for.
“Silas, could you come here a moment?”
Semote walked over to Gideon and the guard. “Yes?”
“The guards are going to be hard-pressed to investigate the events of last night. I thought you might be able to lend a hand. The rest of us could be accused of having an incentive to plant or conceal evidence. Your aid would be appreciated, assuming you are willing.”
“I am.” Semote nodded. “Have you spoken to Alexander?”
Gideon sighed. “He seems to think his services are most needed here to comfort the princess. But that will hardly matter if we have nothing to tell the house of Alden when they want to know what happened.” He turned back to the guard. “Keep this man safe. He’s a guest not only of this house but of our country. If we lose another life here, all of Aeolia will come to shame.”
Semote followed the guard outside, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the harsh sunlight. The outer grounds of the castle were swarming with guards engaged in a systematic search of the premises. Semote’s eye instinctively went to the spot where Valerian’s body had been found. He could still see where the blood had stained the grass. He tried to inspect the ground for any splatters of blood leading away from where the corpse had lain to suggest where the attacker might have fled to, but there were no obvious signs. The grass was trampled in all directions, nothing to indicate whether the attacker fled in the direction of the castle or away from it.
The guard who had accompanied him outdoors seemed to be even less pleased with the situation than Semote. “It’s an ugly business. If we don’t find anything soon, we’ll be forced to search the rooms of all the lords. It’ll be a violation of their privacy, but there may be no getting around it. None of them can refuse without looking guilty.”
“I can hardly see how that would help.” Semote replied, still staring at the ground. “The killer clearly had time before the body was discovered. I can’t imagine that any of them would be foolish enough to stash the weapon where it could be tied back to them. For that matter, why go to the trouble of hiding the weapon back at all? To conceal its country of origin?”
The guard shrugged. “Not my place to comment, milord.”
Being addressed by that particular title made him wince. It was one thing to have a group of nobles treat him as their equal. It was quite another to have this man treat him as his superior. It was made even more hollow by knowing that it was the title rather than the man that the guard thought worthy of respect.
“There’s no reason it shouldn’t be. If you uncover anything strange, feel free to share it. The more information we have, the better our chances of discovering who did this.”
“If you say so.” The guard kept his voice flat, like he wanted nothing so much as to minimize contact with a man who could potentially deprive him of his post for the mildest impertinence. Semote could relate to that feeling.
Semote stared down at the spot on the ground where the body had laid one last time, picturing the scene in his head from last night. Something had seemed strange to him about the state of the body even then.
“Begging your pardon, I think someone wants a word with you.”
Semote looked up to see the guard pointing outside the periphery of the castle. A man in a drab brown tunic was staring at Semote. There was something familiar about him, for some reason he had an image in his head of the man with a sword in his hand. Walking closer, he realized why.
“You are Valerian’s man, aren’t you?” Semote called out to the stranger.
The stranger nodded at him curtly. “I did fence with the late Lord. But I prefer to think of myself as my own man, I’m here to speak directly, not on his family’s behalf.”
“What is it that you want?”
“I hear you had nothing to do with Valerian’s death. And I imagine that you would benefit enormously from catching his killer. I’d like to help you do just that.”
Semote took a closer look at the man. The stranger had a certain presence to him, it made sense why Valerian would have picked him to lose a mock swordfight. He had sharp eyes, and a lean but muscular physique which suggested he made his living off his strength, a fact also emphasized by the scar running down his left cheek.
“Why would you want to help me?”
“At one point I rendered services to Lithos. My employment ended badly. I’d like a chance to rectify that.”
Semote stared at him for a second, thinking back to something Rowena had told him when they first met. “You were Rowena’s spy.”
The stranger nodded curtly. “Yes.”
“And she no longer trusts you.”
The stranger nodded. “You’ll notice it’s not her I’m making this offer to.”
Semote glanced back at the guard who was watching the two of them, before turning his attention back to the other man. “How do you think you can help?”
“I have information concerning some of the other nobles and their recent activities. I believe it may help you narrow in on whoever is responsible for this.” The man looked around for a second. “And there is something you will need to see for yourself. Meet me out here tonight.”
“No offense to you, but based upon recent history, that sounds like a good way to die.”
“Bring some protection if you like.” The man tilted his head towards the guard watching Semote. “But the things I have to discuss are better said without being overheard. That’s for your sake as much as mine.”
“We’ll see.” Semote didn’t want to promise anything yet. “I’ll be here after the sun sets if I decide to come.”
“I hope you do.” The man turned to walk away.
Semote watched him walk away for a moment. “What was it Valerian called you?”
“A number of things.” The man replied from over his shoulder. “But my name is Finn.”
Semote rejoined the guards back outside the castle, still not entirely sure of what he intended to do next. He resumed searching for any sign of where a weapon might have been stashed, but his initial opinion that there was nothing they were likely to find at this point showed no signs of being altered. Complete vindication could be hours away however, so he took the time to organize his thoughts as he continued the largely mindless effort.
Valerian’s body had not been robbed of the coin he carried, suggesting the murder was personal. All of the other suitors had seemed shocked and disturbed to find the body, in a performance that would have been career-making for any actor on the stage. But Semote didn’t doubt these men were capable of lying that convincingly, and more besides.
It was much like his belief that the greatest storytellers in the world weren’t writing books for his Library, but advising lords at court. It was the most reliable use of the talent to obtain wealth and power: spinning enticing fictions of the advantages of following their advice, and crafting narratives for the public that portrayed their patron as a legend brought to life. And the flip side of that parasitic relationship often created lords Semote was convinced were some of the finest actors in the world. Reading speeches and scripts prepared by their councils, holding the public enthralled with a performance of absolute confidence and competence, and embedding themselves so deeply in a role they could live in it every day without breaking character, until it was time to plant a dagger in someone’s back.
When he had been younger, Semote would have blamed the cycle of violence on the concentrations of power that corrupted their world from the top down. The twisted incentives that everyone in the orbit of the powerful were shaped by, drawn to manipulate that power in their own interests even as it hollowed out their souls. But the Tenebrous Codex alleged that the rot was deeper still, that written inside every organ they possessed was a set of instructions that built their bodies and minds, shaping their natures as the result of a billion-year arms race to win at all costs. The end result of which produced a species incentivized to do whatever they needed to in order to survive and reproduce. Including murder.
The Codex's diagnosis became even more grim from there, particularly for him. In a passage from the Codex that would have guaranteed the book’s forbidden status all by itself, the Codex claimed that the disproportionate male contribution to violence had a common cause across a list of species that included humanity. While all creatures were shaped by their incentives to survive and reproduce, the incentives for males were particularly warped. Since a male can take minutes to produce progeny while a female must at minimum spend months, males stood to gain far more from using violence in pursuit of mates, which had left its mark on their drives and instincts. The unsavory conclusion was that much of the evil in the world had no external cause, but the potential for it had been bred into them by the inherent brutality of nature. Semote held resolute in believing that even if the Codex’s claims were true, the moral implications of those facts were non-existent. A self-aware human was responsible for all the evil they chose to do, even the comparatively middling flavors of callousness shaped by those incentives. Like choosing to abandon a son you had no need for.
Semote grit his teeth, scraping his foot on the damp grass as he tried to clear his head. He was getting badly off track, that line of thought would only distract him right now. He just needed to catch whoever did this, do his part to fix this broken world that would reward a killer. And because of who he was potentially dealing with, he should expect that his adversary was capable of being a flawless actor when circumstances demanded it. Semote wouldn’t be able rule out anyone, no matter how sincere they seemed. Only evidence could clear them, not his own intuitions.
Somewhere out there was a murderer, seemingly blind both to Semote’s own role in the game as their biggest potential threat, and to Valerian’s true position with the princess to have acted against him. So far, it seemed, he had outsmarted whoever it was, at the cost of a man’s life. Semote just needed to stay ahead of the killer, find a way to corner him, and then…
“We appreciate your help, my lord.” The guard from earlier was addressing him again. Semote realized he was acting exactly like the kind of noble he hated, having forgotten to even ask the man’s name. Semote winced, it was almost certainly too late now. Still, the man seemed to be appreciative of Semote’s earlier politeness as he finally made eye contact. “I believe we’ve done all we can to investigate the castle grounds. We need to keep moving, but the princess advised that the lords not venture outside for the time being, for your own protection.”
“Then I will respect the princess’s wishes. Thank you for your service.” Semote glanced back in the direction of the castle, realizing it probably seemed like more of a prison than a home for some of the other men. No one could leave now without looking suspicious, regardless of how they felt about the risk of staying to court the princess with a murderer on the loose.
Semote made the trip back inside the castle by himself, trading open vistas for the confined perspective offered by the halls of the castle. Gideon spotted him as soon as he returned to the main hall.
“Any news?”
Semote shook his head. “Nothing yet.”
Gideon frowned. “That’s not what I hoped to hear. They had better find something soon.”
Semote nodded, finding himself wishing he could dispense with his cover and ask the questions he really wanted to know. Although—it occurred to him that for once, his false self and true motives were aligned. A noble like Silas would want to solve the mystery as badly as he did, to prove himself to the princess, gain her favor and change the way she looked at him. And more importantly, knock out another competitor.
Semote cleared his throat. “I’d like to ask you something, if you don’t mind.”
“Go ahead.”
“How do I know you didn’t kill Valerian?”
Gideon stopped to look at him. “Is this a serious question?”
Semote nodded. “It is.”
“If you were aware of the consequences Valerian’s death holds for us, you wouldn’t have even asked. Aeolia has enjoyed peace for generations, precisely because this sort of crime has been unthinkable. Even if his killer is caught, it has the potential to set off a cycle of retaliation and bloodshed that could last for years. No man’s personal gain could offset the damage this will cause.”
Gideon continued, his face darkening. “Whoever did this either has no reason the future of Aeolia should matter to him, or is too blinded by his own ambitions and passions to care. And much of the cost for what he has done will fall on me. We have the largest army and would be expected to play the biggest role in keeping war from breaking out, suffering the greatest losses over a conflict we did not begin. So no, I am the least likely to have wanted Valerian dead. Would you like me to ask you the same thing?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Semote nodded and continued down the hall.
An enormous door slammed shut in front of him, as Lucien exited the throne room, likely fresh from an audience with the princess. Rowena was still less than forthcoming with her own opinions of these men, and Semote found himself wondering what kind of a man Lucien was around her compared to him. As well what kind of a man he actually was under his admitted façade.
Semote cleared his throat. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
“You just did.” Lucien straightened his long blue sleeves as he turned to Semote. “But go ahead.”
“How do I know you didn’t kill Valerian?”
Lucien gave Semote a look. “Honestly Silas, do you think I’m an idiot?”
“I’ll let you know after you answer my question.”
“Well you must, because only an idiot would think he could get away with a crime like this at the heart of the princess’s courtship—there is no version of this story where the killer survives the inquisition they are about to be under from all sides. It suggests a crime of passion, a dispute gone wrong or someone who lost themselves to their baser instincts. I am not a man given to baser instincts, or one who would have any jealousy towards the victor, any resolution would be better than this. So no, I am the least likely to have committed this murder. Your attentions would be better spent talking to those who might not be thinking as clearly.”
Lucien took off before Semote could say anything else. This certainly wasn’t earning him any friends. The only thing saving him from being yelled at in response was probably the fact that no one would be able to credibly accuse him, thanks to Alexander and him being able to alibi each other.
Wesley, Semote found sitting in the library. He had open a dusty brown tome that he closed shut as Semote approached. Semote took a brief glance around the stacks, but focused his attention on Wesley. He would have time to check the library’s contents later, without indulging the urge to lose hours here now. Or discover if this trip would give him the one thing he came here for.
“Silas.” Wesley rolled the word out smoothly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Taking inventory. I wanted to know how I can be sure you didn’t kill Valerian.”
Wesley rolled his eyes at him and started to page through his book again. “Really, Silas? You should know the answer to that better than anyone. Valerian was no threat to me. Or to anyone other than his own servants I suspect. Whatever game Rowena was playing by favoring him, I never believed for a minute that she had any real interest in the man. Hence, I have no motive: I would be the least likely to make a move against that man. You should be worrying about the men who might have thought they stood to gain from this, not the man who has the most to lose from this cloud of uncertainty.”
Semote excused himself, and continued his circuit through the castle. Arriving in the guest wing, he saw Darius duck out of the room at the far end of the hall. “Darius, could I have a word?”
Darius looked back at what must have been his room, then back at Semote as he smiled nervously. “What do you need?”
“Let’s say someone else did murder Rowena’s father. How do I know you still didn’t kill Valerian, with a plan to use that as cover?”
Darius breathed out a sign of frustration. “If you are asking me this, I hope you’re also grilling all the others. Think about it for one minute. Why would I commit a crime in a way that makes me the most obvious suspect, using a weapon that casts suspicion on myself? Out of everyone here, I would have been the least likely to commit murder under these circumstances, and condemn myself to this fate. You’re lucky someone could verify your whereabouts, or this could have been you.”
Darius gave him a pointed look and sulked off. Semote ran through the arguments and excuses he had heard so far in his head, waiting to check with the one lord he hadn’t spoken to yet—Cedric. Semote rapped his knuckles on a closed door he thought he remembered Cedric entering the other night. After a few seconds with no response, he tried knocking a little louder.
“Come in.”
Cedric was leaning forward from the edge of his bed. His eyes were red—Semote guessed that he must not have gotten much sleep last night either, and was trying to make up for lost time.
“There’s something I feel I should ask you.” Semote said.
“Yes?”
“Why should I believe you didn’t kill Valerian?”
Cedric stared back at him for a few seconds. Semote started to wonder if Cedric was actually going to respond at all, or just sit there until he left. Finally he began to speak in a soft voice.
“I could never do that to her. I know what she went through when her father died. She’ll be blaming herself, and thinking she’s the one responsible. Whatever Valerian’s faults, this outcome will only bring her misery. Whoever did this must not care in the slightest about how she feels, I would be the least likely to ever want to do this to her. It’s clear to me now that she needs someone who’s able to protect her from men like that. It remains to be seen if there’s anyone here who can.”
Rowena didn’t even turn to face him as Semote entered the throne room. “Where are we at with everyone?”
“Indeterminate.” Semote grimaced, wishing he had a better answer to give. “Alexander is clean. But any of the remaining five of them could have done it. They all have their excuses. But I can’t really say anything until I know more. It’s a shame I stuck by Alexander the other day.”
“One alibi is still better than none, I suppose.” Rowena looked back at him. There was a palpable tension to her demeanor. “A search of their rooms turned up nothing. And if I had any doubts before, I will be undeniably housing a murderer for the foreseeable future. How do you intend to proceed from here?”
Semote hesitated. He had a feeling this was not going to go over well. “I was approached by your former spy. Finn.”
“And?”
“He thinks he has information that can help me.”
“I told you I didn’t trust him.”
“I’m not saying I do either. But he says he has something to show me, which I would be able to judge for myself.”
Rowena frowned. “There’s a reason he’s no longer working for me. He does not exclusively represent my interests.”
“Whose interests does he represent?”
“I can’t even answer that with any certainty.” Rowena sighed. “I would prefer that you have nothing to do with him, but you’re free to conduct your investigation however you see fit. Don’t take anything he says or shows you at face value. I suspect he wants to lead you to a particular conclusion, and will try to direct your attention accordingly. You can see what evidence he has for you, but it is your opinion I want to hear. Not his.”
“Very well.”
Standing outside in the cold, Semote was beginning to question the wisdom of the enterprise he was engaged in. The sun’s last rays were disappearing over the horizon, and he was in the open air, not far from where Valerian had died one day prior. Semote had asked for one of the guards to escort him, which ended up being his previous companion from the search of the grounds. The man seemed appreciative of being selected to be in his presence again, smiling back at him from several yards away. Semote smiled back weakly. In the worst case, his enthusiastic protector might simply ensure that the perpetrator of a sudden assault would not go unobserved, which would be small comfort to a dead man.
Semote heard what sounded like a stick cracking on the ground from somewhere to his right. He pulled out his sword in a quick motion, waving it protectively in the direction of the shadows. “Don’t come any closer.”
“You should swing from your arm, not from your wrist if you’re ever being serious. You’re not trying to conduct a symphony.”
Semote sighed, as Finn came into view with his arms raised upwards. “That’s what everyone tells me.” He sheathed his sword, and waved back the guard who was starting to run over.
Finn slowly pulled an object from his belt and held it forward for Semote to take. “I carry a dagger for my own protection. If it makes you feel more comfortable, you can hold onto it while we talk. If you had the strength of will to not kill Valerian after what I overheard him saying to you, I doubt you would murder me.”
Semote picked up the dagger by its handle, taking a moment to examine the tip. Straight. Not a match for the wound in Valerian’s body. “Appreciated. Now what did you want to tell me?”
“A few things. But there’s something I wanted to show you first. Walk with me around to the east.”
“Lead the way.”
Semote chose to walk a few steps behind Finn, keeping his eye on the other man. Finn did not appear to be bothered by the attention, he was staring at the upper walls of the castle as they circled around it.
“There. Watch closely.”
Semote looked up, and saw the silhouette of a man standing over the wall. His hand was raised in the air.
“What are we looking at?”
“Shhh.”
Semote watched in silence for a few minutes, catching occasional glimpses of a faint flicker of light coming from the man’s hand. Semote eventually spotted something in the sky heading towards the roof. He had missed its approach, but he was able to clearly witness the small bird lighting on the man’s hand. The man’s silhouette disappeared over the wall for several seconds. When it returned, he held the bird aloft, and it took off into the sky. The man was gone from the roof almost immediately.
“A carrier pigeon.” Semote muttered. “They don’t want to be seen doing it, but they’re sending messages to someone.” He frowned and turned to Finn. “I appreciate the help, but you should have just told me. I could have been there on the inside, trying to catch whoever it was in the act.”
Finn shrugged. “To be honest, as a foreigner to our country, I thought there was a good chance it was you. This was an easy way to verify, and now you can’t accuse me of lying. One of your fellow suitors is working with someone on the outside.”
Semote frowned. “So you haven’t been able to tell who is doing it?”
“Not that I can determine from here. I suppose now you’ll need to figure that part out from your end. I’m not exactly welcome in the castle anymore.”
“Is there a good reason for that? The princess doesn’t even want me speaking with you.”
Finn laughed softly. “If that woman knew what she wanted, she wouldn’t have needed to bring in all eight of you, would she? But here you are.”
Semote chose not to answer that directly. “I appreciate the help. Did you have anything else for me?”
“Yes. I know a little bit about what was keeping some of your friends occupied the other evening.”
“And?”
“I was tailing two of them. Wesley stopped by an apothecary that evening. And Darius headed down a back alley to meet with someone from the criminal underworld, an information broker.”
Semote started to speak, then caught himself. There was no reason to share anything else he knew. Darius had said he was going to try to obtain information about the death of Rowena’s father, but there was no need for this man to know that. Finn was watching him closely, waiting for him to respond.
Semote spoke up again. “Does the timing of those events make it impossible for either of them to be the killer?”
Finn shook his head. “I couldn’t tell you how long either one stayed.”
“Then I’m not sure I see the point of this.”
Finn cocked his head at Semote. “A man eager to uncover the truth might be asking himself what led Wesley to undertake that errand by himself. And how a foreigner who only recently arrived in Aeolia already has contacts to meet with.”
“Without having seen it myself, that doesn’t count for much more than a rumor. Why were you only following those two? Did you notice anything suspicious about the others?”
Finn shook his head. “I can’t be everywhere at once.”
“And why were you following anyone at all? Valerian was still alive at the time. What reason would you have to be investigating a crime that hadn’t occurred yet?”
Finn turned his head slightly away from Semote. “I don’t believe Rowena’s father met with a natural death, too many people stood to gain. I believed that something like that could happen again, and when it did, I wanted to be ready to be useful. You can deal with all this information however you choose, but I wouldn’t advise you to ignore it. For the sake of your safety as well as your interests.”
Semote paused, realizing what he needed to ask next, forcing himself to fake some confidence and not look back at the guard tailing him for security as he asked it. “How do I know you didn’t murder Valerian?”
Finn shook his head and folded his hands together. “Lord Silas, compared to the suitors eligible to marry the princess, I am the least likely…”
“Oh, come on.” Semote interrupted him, glancing at the man’s scar and not bothering to hide it. “If Valerian was willing to treat me the way he did as a relative equal, I can’t imagine he was a kind employer to you. When you learned he might be about to own all of Lithos and become even more powerful, you’re not saying that didn’t bother you a little? Why wouldn’t that make you the most likely to want him dead, for a change?”
“The princess despised Valerian.” Finn’s tone was firm, without raising his voice. “She knew exactly what kind of man he was, she was never going to marry him. Ask her yourself if you don’t believe me, say it’s necessary for the investigation. She had some purpose for bringing him in I have yet to figure out, for all I know it was to keep me close in case I had information for her. And now with him gone, I have even less of a chance to see her, and I fully expect that anything I do to help you will never find its way back to me in gratitude, or even her knowledge as you take the credit. I have nothing to gain from any of this.”
“Then why do it?” Semote asked, watching the other man intently. Everyone had a motive for everything, the ambition and desire for power bred into them, corrupting almost everything.
Finn gave a smile that approached a grimace before turning away from Semote. “Because it needs to be done.”
Semote left Finn at the outside of the castle, after returning the man’s weapon. He had precious little time to reflect on what he’d heard before being distracted by the sounds of yelling coming from the great hall. It sounded like there was an argument going on.
Semote walked in to find Darius glaring at Lucien, who had his arms crossed but seemed to be keeping his cool. Lucien looked over at Semote.
“There you are, Silas. I was wondering where you’d been. I was just educating our friend here on the nature of Aeolian justice.”
“As if you could call it that.” Darius glowered. “What you’re describing is nothing less than legally sanctioned murder.”
“It keeps the peace.” Lucien caught Semote’s eye. “You see Silas, when a noble is murdered, their family is permitted to carry out a reprisal against those responsible. It’s an effective deterrent against such violence—or at least that’s what we had thought, until just recently. But perhaps everyone wasn’t aware of our customs.”
“Your customs are barbaric.” Darius spat out the words. “Execution without trial. If you have the legal right, why not just kill whoever you want, say they’re guilty of something.”
“You have no need to be concerned, Darius.” Lucien’s tone was placid. “Unless you really are involved somehow. I’m just saying that if there’s anything you know, you had best come forward now, lest someone get the wrong impression later on. But you’ll get your chance to defend yourself, your birth entitles you to that much.”
“And you think that makes this any better?” Darius’s voice had risen to a shout. Semote noticed that the other nobles had begun to file into the room, apparently taking notice of the spectacle as well. “That the only reason I’m still a free man is because I’m of noble blood, whereas a peasant in my position would be dead? Your whole country is sick.” Darius turned around to face the nobles behind him, giving them an accusing stare. “This isn’t law. This isn’t justice. This is the arbitrary exercise of power by men who know power as their only end. Your corrupt pact that keeps the peace is nothing more than an agreement to exploit the world for your mutual benefit.”
“The Aeolian Concordat is the highest authority in our country.” Gideon’s voice rang out firmly, but without the degree of harshness Semote would have expected. “I will not see you dealt with unjustly. But if you are guilty you will have to answer to the laws of our land. Those laws you criticize are all that have saved our country from perpetual war.”
Darius gave him a hard look in return, as he turned to leave. “If this is how you do it, then maybe your country doesn’t deserve to be saved.”
Three days ago
Rowena was doing her best to keep the receiving line running smoothly, but her desire to be polite was coming into conflict with her desire to be clear. Lucinda had once told her that one of the first things a princess has to learn is a mastery of how to say “no.” Done properly, it could even be made to sound like a compliment, a tender moment of apologetic regret a young man could cherish the memory of. Done poorly...well, that’s how rumors start. It could lead to complaints about being led on, or insinuations about her reputation. The position she enjoyed at the moment meant she didn’t have to listen to ugly rumors of that sort; so long as every young man thought she might someday change her mind and pick them, that fantasy seemed to keep her reputation spotless. But she had the rest of her life to look forward to after her options were closed off, and she didn’t want to burn any bridges if she could help it.
Rowena’s mind had been elsewhere for most of the morning as she engaged in a similar pattern over and over again. A young man she’d seen and even spent some time with before would present himself, she’d smile graciously, let him say his piece, and thank him for stopping by. His smile would falter a bit as he realized his last chance had finally slipped away, but he’d maintain his composure long enough to wish her well and take his leave. There was nothing pleasant about any of it. Rowena thought about all the time and heartbreak that might be spared if she were permitted to make the first move and approach the men she was considering on her own initiative, but tradition demanded that everyone have their chance.
There were only six names Rowena was certain of bringing in. Five, if you didn’t count Semote, hopefully waiting in line outside without having raised any suspicions. That left her room to take one more, if she wanted to show the old fortuneteller who really drove her fate and keep the number down below seven. It didn’t hurt that the superstitious parts of her figured you couldn’t have a devil among your seven suitors if you didn’t have seven suitors.
“I’m Darius of house Myron. A humble visitor from Serenia.”
Rowena turned around, unsure of how long the man had been standing there. She tried to recover with a gracious smile. His was one of the unfamiliar faces. He had a different look to him than the Aeolian nobility, his skin was darker and his hair was longer than she was used to seeing, it flowed over his head more than it was neatly tucked into place. He wasn’t afraid to meet her eye either—he seemed a touch less modest than the typical Aeolian noble, and more direct. Like he neither expected to show deference to her, nor be shown deference to.
Rowena smiled at him, her expression warmed by nothing by obligation. “I hope you’re enjoying Aeolia. I’m sorry you couldn’t be here at a happier time for us.”
“I just hope there are happier times to come.” Darius looked apologetic. “These are terrible circumstances you’ve been forced to endure.”
“Indeed they are.” It was an exchange she was used to having. “So what brings you here today?”
Darius thought for a moment before answering. “You have a problem. But your problem isn’t finding a man to legitimize your succession. Your problem is that a man is necessary at all.”
Now that was something she hadn’t heard before. Rowena raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”
“Your father seems to have had an excellent reputation. If you’re anything like him and he did a decent job or raising you, you would probably be better fit to rule than most. You should be free to sit on the throne by yourself and court—or not—in your own time as you see fit. But your outdated customs force you to engage in this madness. Just as they force everyone in this country to support a system that doesn’t serve their interests, but perpetuates the power of a few.”
“Those are dangerous words to be speaking in Aeolia, particularly for an outsider.”
“You have to know I’m right.” Darius paused to look at her. “From what I hear, your own mother went through a similar situation to this herself, didn’t she?”
“She did.”
“And do you really want to risk forcing a daughter to have to endure this as well?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves…”
“I’m serious, think about it. The only way this will ever end is if someone decides it must.”
Rowena thought for a moment. “Is Serenia such a model of justice that you’re forced to come here looking for a country in need of reform?”
Darius fidgeted. "We do allow women to own property…”
Rowena made a small laugh. “After they’ve born three children? That would hardly help in my case.”
“Yes.” Darius coughed. “It’s still an improvement over Aeolia, but we are not exactly Eristat.”
“Perhaps your own countrymen would benefit from some of your modern ideas, then.”
Darius winced at that remark. “I am not the senior member of my house. I don’t stand to inherit anything back at home. I have no leverage to enact any changes. But with your family’s wealth and power, you might be able to do so here.”
Rowena shook her head. “I’m afraid what you’re proposing is likely impossible. We are limited in our ability to change some things, we don’t even control our own rules of succession. The other houses would never agree to changing the Aeolian Concordat. It could lead to anarchy, or open war.”
Darius paused. “I’m not saying it can save you from your situation. I don’t think it can happen this week, this month, or even this year. But changing your laws—replacing the whole rotten tree from the ground up—is something that needs to be worked towards. You don’t have to agree with me that it can be done—maybe not even that it should be done.” Darius looked her squarely in the eye. “But I promise that if I were to become the Lord of Lithos, I would make it my goal to ensure that your plight could never happen to another. That would be my promise to you. A step to ensure that Aeolia moves past its dark history and into the light.”
Rowena couldn’t help but smile at what Darius had to say. “Usually this is where a prospective suitor says something about me, rather than about his political aspirations.”
Darius seemed embarrassed. “To be honest, I don’t really know you. You have a large enough crowd pursuing you to suggest you could be the most amazing woman in the world. But I suspect the biggest factor in whether you and I could ever work is simply how open to change you are.”
Rowena looked back at him. “Is that all you had planned to say?”
Darius flushed slightly, looking down at his feet. “That’s it.”
“Very well.” Rowena let him wait for a few moments longer. She had already decided what she was going to do, but she might as well make him wait for it. Sincere or not, it was better banter than she was used to hearing. And there would be advantages to having another foreigner in the mix, for Semote’s sake. Rowena smiled at Darius, seeing his tense features immediately relax from seeing her expression. “You honor us with your presence.”
Darius smiled back in relief, indicating he understood the significance. He bowed, a little awkwardly. “And you with yours.”
To be continued in Chapter 8, now available here:
