Fiction: The Library of Eristat / The Seven Suitors, Chapter 6

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.

---

Image generated by Midjourney, all text human-written by me and human-edited by Alyssa Sparza

Semote ducked under a branch as he followed Rowena deeper into the royal garden, his attention split between an unusual blue rose that had to have been the result of some novel hybridization process, and the amused smile Rowena was giving him as she motioned him along. Officially, their stroll through the garden was intended to be one of his dates with the princess. Alexander was probably eating his heart out that Semote had landed what had to have been the most romantic location, laid out with a veritable rainbow of flowers and flowing water. But Semote was confident those features weren’t the ones that caused Rowena to pick the spot, compared to its relative distance from the castle proper, and clear line of sight to ensure they wouldn’t be overheard.

Whatever the reasons, Semote was glad Rowena had chosen to spend their time among the greenery, as he felt something inside him finally relax, his ambient stress melting a little as he followed her through the carefully orchestrated sights and scents. The garden probably wasn’t the only reason he was feeling more like himself. It was occurring to him that despite being almost unfairly pretty for how sharp she was, and being indisputably multiple gradations of social class out of his league, Rowena had managed to become the person Semote felt most comfortable with since he’d arrived.

It helped that Semote knew she didn’t have a reason to want him dead, which is more than he could say for the other guests, however polite their manners. It helped that he didn’t have to spend every second on edge about keeping up a mask and having his true identity revealed. The only secret he was holding back was about the books he was searching for related to the Codex, and she had made no attempts to pry. And it also helped that despite the vast difference in life experience and upbringing they had both experienced, she spoke to him almost as an equal, without the reflexive condescension he had learned to expect from the nobility.

It was enough to make him curious about something, and they did have the time to talk. Semote decided to lead into it slowly, starting with something he had been curious about. “If we are unable to settle on a murderer, do you think you’d be likely to choose Darius, since he couldn’t have killed your father?”

Rowena sighed, as she drew her attention away from the lush greenery. “I would prefer for that to not be the only reason to choose Darius.” Rowena shook her head. “But there is a part of me that would consider it. To be assured of avoiding the worst possible outcome. Unless he actually is what Valerian called him, a foreign devil.”

Rowena smiled lightly to herself, like there was inside joke she had just made on which he was missing context. Now she was starting to remind him of the rest of the nobility. Which made him think of the the question he was actually curious about.

“Had you considered your other option for trying to avoid a killer? It was only the nobility who lined up to be received by you. None of your own subjects, men you might have been able to investigate, with less ability to hide their secrets. Did you stick to the nobility by tradition, law, or choice?”

“A mix of the first and the last I suppose. There’s nothing that strictly prohibits it.” Rowena began to look a little uncomfortable. “I can’t say I did not consider it. But the risks outweighed the benefits. I’ve always known that marrying me would change anyone’s life forever, and that’s even more true for a commoner than a noble. It would be an instant transformation in status, wielding power like they would never have experienced before, the ability to claim anything they wanted just by demanding it, to send men to die for their honor. Whoever they might be now, I’m not sure you can predict what the kindest of men might do with that degree of absolute power. Or what they might be willing to do to obtain it.”

“I’m not sure anyone should have that kind of power.”

Rowena looked back at him in surprise, as Semote realized he may have just denied her family’s entire reason for existing in an unguarded moment. But she shrugged her shoulders, as she looked over luscious gardens her staff must work hours daily to maintain for her. “You may be right. But there is nothing I can do to change that. Their options are to be ruled by someone I choose, or to be at the mercy of an army robbing them of everything they have by force, as violence becomes the only way to resolve who takes what I have. If my choice can be better than that, they will be better off with me deciding their fate.”

“Honestly, that’s what I would do in your position as well.” Semote ran that scenario in his mind for a moment, briefly imagining how incredibly unenthused he would be to marry like this. The thought also made him realize that however stressed he was about the façade he had to maintain, Rowena’s job in having to keep up an act was almost certainly harder, forcing herself to act unsuspecting and demure in the presence of a murderer. These talks were probably as much of a break for her as for him.

“That said…” Semote pressed forward, indulging the instinct that perhaps he didn’t need to be his normal guarded self, and let the thought take him wherever it led. “You are choosing who gets to control your subject’s lives within a group of men who are taught from birth that they are entitled to everything they are given, and if the history I’ve read is any indication, go on to act like it as well.”

Rowena smiled lightly, as though she was more amused than bothered by Semote’s line of probing. “Has anyone in your Library made a calculation on how successful commoners are at ascending to the nobility?”

The answer was no, but as Semote quickly ran through the rare cases he could remember across histories compiled over hundreds of years...the outlook wasn’t great.

“At any rate, their character is not my only concern. Whoever I pick will have to lead Lithos and convince the rest of the world that I haven’t handed it over to some fool who will leave us ripe for invasion. Even if a commoner could adapt to this life, fulfill the responsibilities it entails, and somehow inspire our people to see them as a leader worth following—if the rest of the world would see us as vulnerable, it would scarcely matter. This world does not respect kindness or virtue. It respects power, and those born to it.”

Rowena continued before Semote could say anything else, her tone suddenly gentle as she explained the romantic unsuitability of the entire class of human being to which he belonged. “In any case, there’s no point discussing it now. We’ve brought in quite a number already, and they would be reasonably offended if I kept shopping for more. I think we have more than enough suitors to worry about already, don’t you?”

“I suppose so.” Semote stopped wondering how he felt about that for long enough to notice Rowena handing him something wrapped in a scarlet cloth she seemed to have recovered from a bush, likely hidden in preparation for this meeting. “Don’t tell me we’re doing gifts again.”

Rowena shook her head. “I didn’t want to leave you on your own a second time. So far as everyone else is concerned, you brought this with you. Open it.”

Semote gently unfurled the cloth to reveal an ornate sword resting in a scabbard with a belt attached to it. The blade looked to be fairly long, with a slight curve to it. He ran his fingers along the handle. There was a carving of a raven at its base.

“It’s an Erelian blade.” Rowena explained. “We actually don’t have another, so try not to break this one. You’ll need to look like you can take care of yourself today, and it will raise fewer questions if you could carry something authentic to your purported homeland.”

Semote pulled the blade out of its scabbard and turned it around in the air, trying to get a feel for the balance of it. Rowena looked at him with mild concern as he traced a line in the air.

“Make sure you swing from your arm, not your wrist. You should look like you are trained to do some damage, not conduct a symphony.” Rowena looked for a moment like she was ready to take the sword out of his hands and give him a lesson in form, but then she shook her head and sighed. “You shouldn’t actually have cause to use it. The only thing is, you’ll be traveling today and I don’t want you looking like an easy target for thieves. If anything does happen, get some of the others to help you. It’ll give them a story to brag to me about when you get back.”

Semote returned the blade to its sheath. “Sounds good. Anything else?”

“Yes. Any objections to being done with Valerian by the end of the day?”

Semote shook his head. “I just want a little more time to see how the rest have taken his sudden rise. But we’ll all be happier when he’s on his way.”

“All right.” Rowena gave him one last worried look. “Try not to get into too much trouble out there today.”

---

The sword was turning out to be a comforting presence at his side. It gave him a sense of power over his environment that Semote wasn’t used to feeling, and not just because of its function as a weapon. Carved with an artist’s touch for intricate details on one end yet clearly functional at the other, it left the impression that its owner was a person of import who wasn’t to be trifled with. That illusion would probably last about as long as it took him to pull it out of its scabbard and show off his complete lack of training with a blade, but Semote supposed it was still worth something.

Rowena was having them run errands on behalf of Lithos today. They’d been given sealed letters to deliver to various important figures around Lithos, a somewhat menial task considering their stations. Semote suspected the exercise was designed to give them more exposure to Lithos and its people, and Rowena would likely be looking for them to share insights from their experiences. It might also give her a chance to hear what the people who did all the work to keep the country running thought of the strangers in their midst.

Rowena had advised them to travel in groups for safety and for the benefit of the two foreigners, which led to a small bit of controversy when it was time to leave.

“I’m not going to hold your hand while you stumble around Lithos.” Valerian snapped. The comment was directed at Darius. “Find someone else to babysit you.”

Darius blanched. “I can take care of myself. I just thought we might have a chance to talk.”

“There’s nothing you could say that would be of any interest to me. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve already overstayed your welcome here.” Valerian glanced over at Semote. “You and Silas both. I’ll keep to the company of my countrymen. The ones I’ll still have occasion to see two weeks from now.”

The aggravation was apparent on Darius’s face, but whatever he might have wanted to say was preempted by Gideon. “It’s fine, Darius. You can travel with me. If you need any help finding anything, feel free to ask.”

“I can look after Silas then.” Alexander winked at him. “Wouldn’t want you to stumble over a border and end up marrying the wrong girl by accident.”

Cedric shifted his feet and sighed. “Well, someone’s going to be stuck going with Valerian. I suppose I can do it.”

“Come now, you should get on my good side while you can, Cedric.” Valerian smirked. “When all of this is mine, I won’t forget who my friends were.”

“I’ll go with Gideon and Darius.” Lucien’s blue cape brushed up against Semote as he spoke, his clothes shifting as the noble turned to look at the letters in each of their hands. “It should take me the least out of my way.”

“Then, for the sake of company if nothing else, I shall travel with Silas and Alexander.” Wesley looked around. “I think that’s everyone then, yes? Shall we get going?”

At Alexander’s recommendation, the three of them set out on foot. Alexander estimated that it wouldn’t take more than a few hours to complete their business without rushing it, which they had no reason to. Taking their time was probably the whole point. As they passed from cobblestone roads to open fields, Semote did his best to take a moment to appreciate the beauty of the country. The farms were impressively-scaled, considering the crop rotation techniques they appeared to be working with. He wondered if Rowena knew that the right book in the Library could spare her people their next famine if she encouraged them to follow its advice. If things ended well, it might make a good wedding present. By his side, Wesley seemed to be trying to get his attention, as Semote had to remind himself that he quite literally had a job to do.

Wesley had slowed his pace to match Semote’s while Alexander walked a few feet ahead of them both. “You’re not the first Erelian I’ve met you know. There was a woman I knew from there; you remind me of her a little bit, as a matter of fact. She was the quiet type as well, always lost in her own thoughts.”

“You’ve known a lot of women, have you?”

“I mean no offense to you personally, but they tend as a rule to be more interesting to know than men.” Wesley shrugged. “Your countrywoman’s story was a tragic one, as a matter of fact. Her family had been hell-bent on setting her up in an advantageous marriage to a man she despised, so she left the country and tried to make a fresh start over here. I hear it caused quite the scandal back home. She was from the house of Lenore—I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

Semote did his best not to show any sign of stress in his voice as he replied, his mind running through tables of names he had crammed on before leaving, praying that he had skimmed correctly. “I have.” Semote kept walking, staring straight ahead as though he wasn’t putting his entire cover on the line with his answer. “But if I’m not mistaken, the house of Lenore is from Serenia. Darius would be far more likely to have heard of your friend.”

“Ah.” Wesley nodded placidly. “Now that you say it, I think she might have been from Serenia after all. My mistake.”

It took all his effort not to exhale in relief. He wasn’t sure whether that had been a test or a genuine mistake on Wesley’s part. In light of his conversation with Alexander from the other day, maintaining his false identity had taken on an even greater importance. As he understood it, so long as he was believed to be a noble, he was relatively safe—no one would openly harm him without risking retaliation. But if he was ever revealed as a commoner, and as simply a pawn in someone else’s game, the same thing would likely happen to him that happened to most pawns. But if Wesley had any suspicions, he wasn’t showing any signs of them at the moment.

“There was something I was wanting to ask you.” Semote began.

“Go ahead.”

“Alexander said a number of suitors met with Rowena’s father before his death, and there was some sort of an argument. Do you have any idea what went on that night?”

Wesley grimaced. “There’s an unpleasant subject. It’s nothing that should concern you at all. I heard the same thing I imagine everyone else did that night, that the princess had no intention to marry young. I took the news in stride. Not everyone did, but I doubt there’s anything there. If her father had been injured in some argument, I think we all would have heard something by now.”

Semote thought for a second, trying to ask his next question without making his intentions too obvious. “Was it like what happened yesterday? Did anyone bring any gifts to impress him? Food, or wine perhaps?”

“Not a scrap of food. But wine in embarrassing excess. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Wesley looked down at the letter in his hands as they approached what looked like a weaver’s, with large stretches of colored cloth visible on the inside. “I believe this is me. I’ll be right back.”

Semote and Alexander waited outside while Wesley conducted his business indoors. He seemed to be taking his time in chatting with the shop owner, possibly because he had guessed that was the real point of his visit. A few minutes later, after shaking the man’s hand, Wesley emerged with a pleased look on his face.

“Charming fellow.” Wesley turned his head up towards the sky, gazing at the position of the sun. “If the two of you don’t mind, I think I can find my own way back to the castle. See you both at dinner?”

“Fine by me.” Alexander replied. “But if Silas and I fight off a gang of bandits by ourselves after you leave, don’t expect a share in the glory.”

Wesley smiled. “I’m sure you can handle yourselves.” He gave them a quick bow, and took off back towards the castle. Semote looked carefully at Alexander as Wesley disappeared out of sight, reassuring himself that he had not somehow underestimated Alexander and was about to be alone and at the mercy of a murderer who had anticipated his every move. But Alexander was completely unchanged in his attitude as he took Semote down the road.

“Come on. It’s not far from here.” Alexander led him down a series of alleys. It was still light out, but the sun was close to setting. “Keep an eye on that one, Silas. He may talk like you’re his best friend in the world, and that he doesn’t even see you as his competition, but don’t expect it to last when your back is turned.”

“Should I be worried about that for you as well?”

Alexander laughed back at him. “If you didn’t trust me, you wouldn’t be here in the first place, would you? Here we are.”

Alexander ducked into a nondescript building, after pointing Semote in the direction of a nearby blacksmith. Semote stepped inside to find a bearded man covered in sweat and grease. After catching his attention, Semote handed over the letter. The other man regarded the seal with some interest, finally breaking it and unfolding the letter to examine its contents. Semote resisted the urge to peek at whatever Rowena had written as the man scanned through the letter, before finally folding it up and tucking it into the folds of his apron.

“Thanks for passing this on.” The blacksmith had his arms folded across his chest, giving Semote a curious look. “She’s got you playing courier for her now, does she?”

“The things we do for love I suppose.” Semote said, with a touch of irony. “It could certainly be worse.”

“I hear she has eight of you running around chasing her, is that true? Eight?”

“Last I checked.” Semote permitted his gaze to wander around the blacksmith’s shop. There seemed to be more tools than weapons being worked on, a promising sign for the enduring peace of the country.

“Considering the reason you really came here...” The blacksmith gave Semote a pointed look. “You should hope you don’t mess this up, for the sake of your own soul.”

Semote stared back at the other man, not sure what to make of that as a small chill came over him. “I beg your pardon?”

The blacksmith grunted, turning back to his work. “The lords of Lithos have done right by us for generations, putting their fortune to work on behalf of the people. There are those who would prefer to manage things differently, some lords already see Lithos as a crop ready to be harvested, and would prefer to extract its wealth rather than invest in it. If it comes to you, what you do with this land is all you’ll be remembered for. And the measure by which your soul will be judged by Moriae.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” Semote spotted Alexander out of the corner of his eye, who had his arms crossed, evidently waiting for him. He turned back to face the blacksmith. “Thanks for your time, I’ll let you get back to work.”

The blacksmith looked at him for a moment longer, then nodded. “All right, then. Just remember what I said, you hear?”

Semote rejoined Alexander out on the street. Alexander was wearing a mock frown on his face. “Mine wasn’t all that charming. Run of the mill stonemason. Just my luck I suppose.”

“It can’t have been that disappointing.”

“Well, when you’re used to the bar for elevated discourse being set at a certain level, anything less is a letdown. Take it as a compliment to your noble personage—while you may not say much, when you do it tends to be worth a listen. Now, I think it’s time we rejoined high society, don’t you?”

Semote chose to keep his thoughts on how elevated their previous society was to himself. Orange hues from the setting sun were spilling over the rooftops as they began to retrace their journey from earlier in the day, the brightly colored sky fading into a dull gray as the light waned. He clutched his sword to his side a little more closely as they walked the final stretch back to the castle, trying to imitate some of the confidence he had seen the other suitors walking with before. Semote did his best to imagine himself as a hero from a book stored in the outer northwest of the Library: off on a quest, sword in hand, and definitely not someone worth robbing.

“Let’s see what the night has in store for us then.” Alexander smiled back at him. “I think there’s a chance I’ll be the one she asks to sit next to at dinner this evening. No one could stand listening to Valerian for more than one night.”

Alexander seemed in cheerful spirits. They had just breached the outer wall of the castle when Alexander came to a sudden halt, causing Semote to nearly bump into him. Alexander was looking down at the ground, visibly shaken.

Semote tapped him on the back, trying to nudge him out of the way. “Can whatever this is wait until we get inside?”

“Silas...it’s Valerian.” Alexander’s voice had a tremor to it.

“Really?” Semote sighed. “What’s he done now?”

“He’s dead.”

Semote felt his body tense up. He moved forward to look at the spot where Alexander was staring. Sure enough, there was Valerian, lying motionless with blood pooled around him. Semote felt a growing tightness in his chest, making it difficult to breathe.

Alexander put his hand up to Valerian’s neck, then shook his head. “No pulse. He’s completely gone.” Alexander’s face was pale.

Semote quickly reached down to touch the body. Colder than a living body would be. Warmer than the night air. There were equations for this, formulas that governed the diffusion of temperature written within the Codex, calculations he could run if he had the time. By his best approximation, the body had to have been dead for at least an hour to have lost this much heat. Maybe longer.

Alexander stood limply in place, his posture shattered from its usual carefree poise, his voice a hollow imitation of itself when he finally began to speak. “I’m sorry, Silas. We should never have come here.”

Semote sighed. “Alexander, it’s—”

“They would kill any of us. All of us. Just to get to her.” Alexander’s voice was weak. “We’re trapped now. We can’t leave or they’ll say one of us is the killer. I should have never brought you into this—”

“Alexander!” Semote raised his voice, trying to catch the other man’s attention, resisting the urge to shake him. Alexander stared blankly back at him, his mind clearly elsewhere. “Alexander, it’s fine. I made my own choices.”

Alexander shook himself, taking a deep breath and raising himself to his full height. “We need to find the others. Maybe someone saw something. Stay here with the body.”

“But...” Before Semote could object, Alexander had taken off to the castle. Semote grit his teeth and knelt down to check the rest of Valerian’s body, trying not to let his fears overtake him that he could be next. Nothing appeared to have been stolen, a small purse of coins was still attached to his belt. There were no obvious bruises on his face, arms, or chest, no tears in his clothes. Just a single stab wound in his back that went deep with an unusual incision, like the cut had been twisted in with a curved tool or weapon of some kind. Blood was pooled around the body. Feeling sick, Semote looked away, only to spot a figure approaching from outside the castle wall. He drew his sword, not knowing whether to feel threatened or not.

Darius raised his hands in the air. “I come in peace! The humble suitor has returned.” He squinted at him. “Silas, is that you? What’s the matter?”

Semote said nothing, but sheathed his sword. Darius walked closer, then almost tripped when he spotted the body on the ground.

“Is that—”

“I’m afraid so. Stay close, Alexander is looking for any others in the castle.”

A few minutes later, Alexander returned from the castle with Lucien and Gideon. Wesley approached from outside the castle walls not long after carrying a bouquet of flowers, followed finally by Cedric. One by one they joined the others in huddling around the body in silence, not seeming to believe the evidence before their eyes.

Gideon bent down to inspect the body. “He’s been dead for a while. On the battlefield, a soldier could lie deceased for an hour before growing this cold.” Gideon turned to look at one lord in particular. “Cedric.” Gideon’s voice was calm but firm. “You were traveling with Valerian. Tell us what happened.”

Cedric’s voice was numb, as disassociated as if he was describing something that had happened to someone else. “A couple hours ago, Valerian handed off his letter and went back to the castle by himself. He said he didn’t want to wait for me, and he didn’t need to stick around for me to protect him, of all people.” Cedric rubbed his eyes. “I never would have let him go by himself if I’d known this would happen.”

“I see.” Gideon’s voice was neutral, as though he had taken nothing away other than the lack of an alibi in that answer. He looked over at Darius next. “Darius also left our group after reaching his letter’s recipient, saying he didn’t want to trouble us further, and he knew his own way well enough by now. Are anyone else’s whereabouts unaccounted for?”

“Wesley left us early.” Alexander responded. “And Silas couldn’t have done it.”

Gideon gave Alexander a stern look. “This is no time for games, Alexander. I’m not asking whether you trust Silas. I’m asking whether you can confirm that it was impossible for him to have committed this murder.”

“We were together the whole time.” Alexander clarified. “And we found the body together.”

Gideon looked at Semote. “You can swear to this as well?”

“Yes.” Semote responded. “We only separated to drop off our letters, and there’s no way he could have made it back here in time.”

A silence hung in the air for a second. It was Cedric who broke it. “I hate to even say this, but that only proves one of you didn’t do this alone. I saw the two of them speaking together for a long time at the funeral…”

Semote felt an involuntary shiver, but spoke up quickly. “Our letters took us farther away than the rest of the group, the blacksmith and the stonemason could verify our whereabouts over an hour ago. If the body has really been dead for more than an hour for it to cool, and Valerian was with Cedric two hours ago, we couldn’t done the murder, before or after our trip.”

Semote knew his logic was sound, but still felt a hit of relief as Gideon nodded. “Assuming they verify your stories, then the two of you are rather fortunate, since it seems you are above suspicion.” Gideon did not look pleased as he looked down at the body.

“Is the same true of you and Lucien?” Semote asked.

“Our visits took us close. We arrived at the castle together two hours ago...” Lucien began to say.

“But the body was not present.” Gideon cut him off. “So technically, either one of us could have doubled back and killed him. That is why it is only the two of you who are cleared. And I assume anyone else whose whereabouts could be vouched for would have spoken by now.”

Silence hung in the air, as everyone avoided eye contact with each other. Semote scratched at his hair, briefly disheveling its ordered state. Something was bothering him. Darius had arrived back at the castle after Semote himself did. If he had met with someone far away, he should be using that fact to alibi himself.

“Darius...” Semote began. “If you left before Gideon and Lucien completed their business, why did you show up later?”

Darius looked a little uncomfortable. “It is a large city and I wished to take some of it in. Unlike most of you, I have had limited opportunities to learn what this country is truly like.”

“And you, Wesley?” Semote looked over at him. “You left before Alexander and I were done, but arrived later.”

“If you can forgive me for taking my leave to secure an advantage that hardly matters now, I was gathering a bouquet of wildflowers for the princess. It took me some time to find what I needed.” Wesley also seemed unhappy being questioned.

“This is pointless.” Gideon knelt down. “Let me examine the rest of the body.”

Gideon turned Valerian on his side, examining the deep wound in his back. His face soured even further. Finally Gideon stood up and faced the group. “I believe I have some critical information. The wound is not a clean cut, the implement used appears to have a corkscrew tip. It would appear that Valerian did not die to an Aeolian blade. I’ll need to see all of your weapons. Now.” Gideon looked directly at Semote. “Yes, even yours, Silas.”

Semote unsheathed his weapon without hesitation and presented in his palms. Gideon looked at it briefly, then nodded. “Good. And the rest of you.”

One by one they all unsheathed their swords and handed them forward for Gideon’s examination, who dismissed each in turn. All except Darius, who was beginning to look extremely uncomfortable.

“I didn’t bring a weapon.” Darius spoke the words quietly but firmly.

Lucien gave him an incredulous look. “Really. When you decided to leave us, you did so defenseless?”

“Don’t give me that!” Darius raised his voice. “I told you on the walk over that I chose to come here unarmed. The sight of an armed Serenian is more likely to provoke than deter violence.”

“Yes.” Lucien spoke patiently. “And I said that appearing unarmed is a sharp tactic to adopt, one that is best complimented with a weapon you actually do carry. To which you laughed.”

“Quiet.” Gideon glared at Lucien, then turned his gaze back to Darius. “Darius. Did you have anything to do with this man’s death?”

“Of course not!” Darius snapped.

“And do you have in your possession a weapon that could have done this?”

“Absolutely not.” Darius shook his head.

Lucien spoke up again. “Convenient...”

“Silence.” Gideon clenched his teeth, then spoke again. “We can not take any action based only upon our suspicions. And you would all do well to remember that there may very well be more powers in play than us who might wish Valerian dead.” He turned to look Darius squarely in the eye. “But understand this. The house of Alden will be looking for revenge when they learn of this. As of right now we have nothing to tell them. But it would be extremely unwise of you to leave the country right now. For the continued well-being of both you and your house.”

Gideon knelt down in front of the body, shaking his head. “Silas. Alexander. The two of you should carry him inside, so his murderer won’t have a chance to mock his memory. The rest of us will go on ahead. The princess will need to hear about what happened.”

---

Rowena’s face was darker than Semote had ever seen it. They were alone, but she wasn’t speaking a word to him. She was simply staring at him with accusing eyes.

“Tell me you didn’t see this coming.”

Semote was still shaken from earlier, but he did his best to maintain his calm. “You can’t possibly think that.”

“I need to hear it from you.” Rowena’s voice dropped even lower in pitch. “Tell me this wasn’t your plan all along. Tell me we didn’t play this man up as the favorite so we could use him as bait for a killer. Tell me he’s not dead because it suited your purposes here. That his life wasn’t worth less to you than whatever clue you thought you might gain from this.”

“No. No. Absolutely not.” Semote shook his head. He tried to keep his voice from cracking. “I thought he’d be safe. I thought we all were safe. Alexander told me that openly killing a noble in Aeolia was unthinkable. Without subterfuge, it would invite open retaliation. Escalation. War.”

“Well, I hope that’s educated you about the value of that particular source of intelligence.” Rowena’s eyes were red. She rubbed at them with one hand as she sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m sure I would have told you the same thing as him. I’m the one who should have known better. This is all my fault.”

Semote took a deep breath and let it out. Rowena was no longer glaring at him, but now her anger seemed to be directed inward. She had a miserable look on her face.

“You can’t blame yourself.” Semote offered.

“Who else. I knew what the risks were. But I still dragged you all into this because I thought more time would make a difference. And now someone else is dead because of me.”

“We don’t know why he died, or even who initiated it. We both know Valerian was hardly a saint.”

“That doesn’t excuse his murder. And the timing is too perfect—he’s killed the moment someone else thinks he might win.” Rowena sighed. “I can’t send any of you out unprotected until this is dealt with. Even though I thought you should have been protected today. Do we know why he ended up alone?”

“It was his choice to split off, according to Cedric. But he’s not around to tell us differently.”

Rowena stood in silence for a moment. “Do any of them suspect anything about you?”

“No.” Semote shook his head. “I don’t believe so.”

“You would tell me if you thought differently? Because if they realized you were spying for me, you’d be even less safe than you are right now.”

Semote thought back to his suspicions about whether Wesley’s story was testing him on how well he actually knew his alleged homeland, but said nothing of it. “Valerian was ready to bribe me to drop out, they still seem to take me as one of their own.”

“All right.” Rowena looked at him directly. “The moment you suspect that isn’t the case, you need to come to me, and I’ll see to it that you’re protected. I’ll find my own ways to manage. I won’t have your death on my hands as well.”

“Appreciated.” Semote’s mouth was dry. It had been an exhausting day.

“Are we any closer to uncovering who might be behind these deaths?”

“Not yet. But we might be soon.” Semote tried not to sound too optimistic. “Whoever killed Valerian put themselves at risk to do so. They may have let something slip. But it’s still too early to say.”

Rowena nodded. “Keep me informed. I’m not the only person who will be demanding answers shortly.”

---

Two years ago

For a brief moment, she almost felt invisible. Rowena had positioned herself in the corner of the ballroom with a pillar between herself and the crowd, staying carefully out of sight. From that vantage point, she could peek around the corner to observe the gathering while still remaining largely inconspicuous. It was a rare pleasure. Not being completely shut off from people around her, but also not having to subject herself to being the target of every conversation.

“Come on. We need to go dance.” Skye was gazing at her impatiently. Her sister had somehow found her, and was very unsubtly tilting her head in the direction of the dance floor.

Rowena tried to brush her off. “So go dance! You don’t need my permission. Get out there. Have fun. You’re the one who actually gets to just be here and enjoy yourself.”

“Yes, we all know your life is so terrible, being the center of attention all the time.” Skye was starting to tug onto her sleeve. “But I’m not going without you again. When I go in without you, people start to mistake me for you. One boy my own age got incredibly excited to see me, looking at me like no one has ever looked at me before. And then I had to watch that descend into soul-crushing disappointment as I basically disappeared in his eyes once he realized his mistake. I’m not dealing with that again! So come on, stop sucking so much and get out there.”

Rowena sighed, telling herself what an amazing older sister she was, as she allowed herself to be dragged in the direction of the swarm of men eager to meet her. As the crowd began to take notice of her presence, she paused to smile and curtsy, which Skye imitated with a degree of irony. Rowena allowed her gaze to wander over the people she saw, as she wondered how many of them she had seen before. She had gotten good at picking out small notes from the chatter, most of the buzz was about her, but one of the women on the far side seemed to be looking at her sister and saying something…

“You know, it is simply frightening the amount of power you wield.” The voice was coming from a young man had already moved to cross paths with her, an auburn haired man that Rowena might have seen some of the other young women attempting to encircle earlier.

“All right.” Skye hugged Rowena’s arm in appreciation as she began to pull away. “I think that’s enough of a comparison for them to keep it straight. Have fun with your latest boyfriend.”

“He’s not—” Rowena spoke up quickly, but Skye was already gone.

Rowena turned back to her latest opportunity to not be completely bored here. “The power I wield? Frightening? I wonder how you must feel about everyone else.” Rowena wondered how long the man had been watching her and waiting for his chance, if he had caught her staring at everyone from the corner. She quickly made her best attempt at looking like a lady who had never diverged from a manner in her life.

“I think you underestimate yourself.” The young man pointed across the room. “Do you see the amount of blue among the men in the crowd?”

Rowena peeked around the corner again to assess the situation. “Now that you mention it, yes.”

“That’s all because of you.”

Rowena gave him a funny look. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Last month, you danced all night with a man in a fetching blue outfit. And a fortnight ago, you were heard complaining about a floral arrangement not having enough blue in it. As a result, the consensus has arisen that blue is your favorite color, with an almost magical ability to enchant your attention, and now the hopefuls are waving it in your face like a flag to a bull. And so here we are.”

Rowena had to stop herself from laughing. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I only wish I was.”

“Oh gods. I don’t even know if I remember any of that.”

The man shrugged. “For you I’m sure it was nothing. But for the bachelors who are making a career out of guessing your next move, it was a revelation from above. Hence why I say the power you wield is clearly not to be trifled with. You could have us all dancing around on one leg if you put some effort into it.”

Rowena laughed lightly to herself. “I notice you’re not wearing blue.”

“It looks terrible on me. And come to think of it, I might actually stand out more this way.” He reached out to shake her hand. “I’m Lucien, by the way.”

“I’m Rowena.” She spoke the words purely out of habit, before thinking better of it. “But I’m guessing you already knew that.”

“It might have come to my attention.” Lucien pointed out into the crowd again. “See that young man dancing over there?”

Rowena followed the direction of his finger. “All right, yes.”

“Watch carefully.” As Rowena watched, the young man took his partner into a dip, then lifted her up into the air, catching her smoothly and turning her around in a half-circle. Lucien smiled. “He’s been practicing that move so that you could see it.”

“There’s no way you could know that.”

“Up until now he’s been simply doing the basic steps. The moment I told you to watch, he took the opportunity to show off. That’s too much of a coincidence to overlook.”

Unable to stop herself from laughing, Rowena shook her head. “I don’t know whether I should be amused or frightened.”

“Watch. We can get someone to do it again. Check out that man over there.”

Rowena followed Lucien’s instructions again, but nothing seemed to come of it. The man seemed to be making his way across the dance floor perfectly normally.

“Come on, let him know you’re paying attention. Really put your back into it.”

Rowena rested her head on her palm and strained forward with an interested expression. She thought she caught a glance her way, and a few seconds later, the man in question took his lady into a turn, grabbed her by the hand, and promenaded up and down the dance floor. One quick spin and a pass under his arm later, and the couple returned to their normal position with a flourish.

Rowena let out an embarrassed giggle. “I don’t know if I’ll ever see one of these events the same way.”

“No reason you should. People do very funny things when they have a lot to lose. Or a lot to win.”

“It’s a funny thing, this power that you speak of.” Rowena’s expression grew more serious. “It only lasts until I choose a husband, and then all the power I hold goes away. I may have a good deal of influence now, but the consequences of however I use it will have to sustain me for the rest of my life.”

“It can’t end too badly for you. You’re guaranteed to marry the most powerful man in Aeolia. You even get to choose who the most powerful man in Aeolia will be.” Lucien paused for a moment. “The rest of us simply have to live with your choice. So please—try not to make him too insufferable. Or too dull. I’m not sure Aeolia could hold up well with a nitwit owning most of its wealth. You’ll have us overrun by our neighbors if you don’t play this right.”

“Any recommendations on that front?” Rowena looked back at Lucien with a cool glance.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare to presume. I’m just saying, keep an eye out. You wouldn’t want to grab the wrong opportunity. Or miss a good one.” Lucien returned her gaze calmly.

Rowena waited for a moment before she spoke. “You know, I think you would actually look good in blue.”

That seemed to catch Lucien off guard. “I’m sorry, but I’d have to say that you’re wrong.”

“No, I mean it.” Rowena smiled at him. “It actually is one of my favorite colors, and I think it would suit you. Next time you come to call, you should wear some. If so, maybe we’ll speak again.”

Rowena curtsied, and began to step away.

“Now I know why they say power corrupts.” Lucien called after her.

“Just offering some friendly advice.” Rowena looked back at him with a smile. “Take it or leave it, it’s completely up to you.”

She could hear the sound of Lucien chuckling as she walked away.

---

To be continued in Chapter 7, now available here: