Chapter 4

Within moments of the queen’s passing, bells clanged a death toll. It resulted in a strange humming from outside.

“What is that sound?” Avera asked Gustav who stood by her side, helmet tucked under his arm. She had her hands clasped in front of her, uncertain how to look, act, or even feel as she watched her mother’s body being prepared.

“It’s the people mourning,” he replied.

The citizens of Daerva wept the demise of their queen and most likely an era because Avera had no idea what to do next. Becoming the leader of a country so suddenly hadn’t changed her and yet people immediately began to act differently.

It began with Gustav who dropped to a knee and thumped his chest. “All hail, Queen Avera.”

A scramble ensued as doctors and attendants followed suit, mumbling their pledge.

The only one to lag? Benoit remained standing until Sir Gustav barked, “Lord Brandy, are you disrespecting our monarch?”

“You’ll have to excuse me. The change in my status is more abrupt than expected,” drawled the ex-consort who was once more simply a lord. Only blood heirs inherited the royal titles. Husbands and wives returned to their former status upon the death of a royal spouse.

While the obeisance made her uncomfortable, Avera knew better than to tell them to cease. She’d not taken lessons on leadership, but she knew how important pomp and ceremony could be. Every culture she’d studied had its own version. To allow disrespect now would create a crack that could easily widen for someone with her inexperience.

“My Queen, perhaps you would like to adjourn elsewhere while the body is prepared for cremation?” Duke Petturi asked while still kneeling with head bowed.

“Yes, of course.” She almost said, “Excuse me,” only to realize these people now catered to her. If she’d declared she would stay, they would have nodded and agreed because that was how it worked. However, she wasn’t about to become a tyrant on her first day. She’d save that for when she found the traitor.

As she left the room with Gustav trailing behind, she murmured, “Now what?”

“Now, we bury your family. Given the number of deaths, I imagine it will take a few days of preparation. During that time, plan your tiara ceremony.” While Avera had never attended one—since the queen had ruled her entire life—she’d read and heard about them. Essentially, she’d be in the throne room, surrounded by as many lords and ladies as could fit, to receive the ceremonial crown and vow to take care of Daerva. Then with the tiara on her head—and hopefully secured so it didn’t fall off—she’d ride Luna through the city, waving and smiling so that the people could see her and cheer.

The whole thing sounded inane. After all, she became queen the moment her mother died, but ritual would cement her new role in people’s minds.

“I don’t have a dress fancy enough,” Avera murmured. She kept her wardrobe plain. The last royal event she’d attended—at her mother’s behest—was the queen’s marriage to Benoit.

“I’ll speak to Violette. I’m sure she’s already speaking to a seamstress about creating something for the event,” Gustav said.

“Surely it can wait a few days while Violette mourns.” A kind woman, the maid in charge of the queen’s appearance always had a smile for the queen’s youngest, mostly ignored, daughter.

“Knowing Violette, she’d prefer to be working,” was his dry reply. The familiarity of the comment made Avera wonder about the rumors claiming Violette and Gustav were amorously involved. “Once your mother’s body is removed, the cleaners will work on preparing the royal suite for you.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Must I use it? That room gets terrible light.”

“The lack of wide windows makes it safer.”

“Is it? Mother was attacked in her own chamber.” The blood stain on the carpet that she’d had to step over as she left was a stark reminder of what happened.

Gustav’s lips tightened. “Because they came through a secret passage.”

“Secret passage?” Avera’s lips parted. “I wasn’t aware the palace had any.”

“Neither was I but it turns out there’s a network of them. It’s only because your mother stopped her assassin that we found them in the first place. The assassin left the compartment open for a quick escape.”

“I wouldn’t say no one knew,” Avera murmured. “Someone had to have told these killers how to access them.”

“I’ll be looking into that first thing,” was his grim reply.

She glanced at Gustav. “Mother told me to find the traitor, or traitors as it may be, and make an example of them.”

“She is right. Was right,” he corrected. “The coordination and inside knowledge required couldn’t have happened without help.”

“Given I survived, how likely is it they try again?”

Gustav sighed. “Very. Whoever planned this wanted the entire Voxspira bloodline dead.”

“Meaning I’m not safe.” Avera glanced at the wall. “They could even be hiding in the palace, waiting their chance as we speak.”

“They could be, but not likely. I’ve had knights and pawns scouring the passages.”

The plural of his statement had her asking, “How many secret corridors are there?”

“Enough. They lead to every royal suite, plus the kitchen and throne room. There’s even a passage that exits into the wine cellar. I will have the masons barricade the entrances to ensure they can’t be used again.”

“Is that wise? Sounds as if they might be useful, and now that we know of them, can’t they be monitored?”

Gustav didn’t scoff at her, but he did have a caution. “Keeping them open could be dangerous. They’re the reason why the killers could move through the palace unseen. How they managed to eliminate everyone and escape.”

“Hardly escape, since you killed them by the bridge.”

“Killed some. I don’t know if we got them all.”

Another reminder she might still be in danger. “I find it odd they chose to hit so close to dawn. Surely it would have made more sense to attack in the middle of the night.” Although, if they had, she might be dead.

“It is strange. I can only think they were delayed somehow and rather than wait until the following night, decided to act.”

“Speaking of the intruders, where is the one mother killed as well as those you and your men handled?”

“Currently piled in the bailey until we decide what to do with them.”

“We should search them for clues.”

“We?” He arched a brow. “The handling of corpses is an unseemly task for the queen.”

“And yet I still plan to do it.” Avera wanted to see them for herself. See if they were truly the extinct Verlorian.

“You won’t budge, will you?” Spoken with a forbearing tone.

“No.”

“Then at least let me have them removed somewhere private that you might not be observed.”

“Make it so.” She gave her first royal command.

Gustav stifled a smile and saluted. “Yes, my queen.” He signaled to a solider who came trotting. He gave his instructions before leading the way to the dungeon, a place she’d visited a few times because of her insatiable curiosity.

Unlike the stories that called them dark and dank places, their dungeon, embedded in the hill upon which sat the palace, had windows that overlooked the Lake of Tears and allowed in fresh air. The chambers had been carved out of stone and being above ground level, tended to be dry, not mildewy or damp. There was only one entrance, heavily guarded at all times even though they kept few prisoners. The former queen believed in swift justice.

Would Avera be as ruthless when it came to forcing people to obey the laws? Not a question she’d ever asked herself even as she knew the importance of upholding justice.

While waiting for the bodies to be brought, she stood at a barred window, eyeing the sloshing waves of the lake that abutted the stony outcrop holding the palace. The poisonous waters were undrinkable. The creatures that lived in it unpalatable. Only ships with metal-sheathed hulls could sail it as wood disintegrated quickly in its waters. Even metal eroded rapidly with exposure. It made the choice of locating the capital by its shore strange, especially since they had to dig numerous wells to supply the city and all food had to be brought in from outlying farms.

Given the age of the palace, predating even their oldest history book, she had to wonder if at one time the lake had been bountiful. If yes, then what caused it to change?

“My queen.” Gustav’s soft murmur jolted her from her thoughts on the lake and she turned to see the chamber now held corpses laid out in a row. They looked almost identical, given the assassins all wore dark hoods and clothing, except for one whose head was bare. They differed in size, some taller than others, but none of them were very thick, though. Given their athleticism, not surprising.

“Is this the one who killed her?” Avera asked, walking to the first body, the uncovered one.

“It is,” Gustav confirmed.

She crouched and eyed the dead man, studying his features. Dark-haired with a tawny complexion. “This assassin definitely appears to be of Verlorian origin. What of the rest?”

“Let’s see.” Gustav stripped the hoods and Avera held her tongue as they were revealed.

“This is a rather mixed band,” she announced, eyeing the different skin tones. The first had the swarthy coloring of a Verlorian, but the others ranged from straw-toned skinned with short, pure white hair, to porcelain-toned with dark locks, and shades in-between. “They don’t look like they belong to any single continent,” she murmured as she studied them.

“No, they don’t,” Gustav agreed. “They were most likely hired assassins.”

“Hired from where?” she asked glancing at him in surprise. “Daerva doesn’t have a guild of assassins.”

“No, but Saarpira does.”

“The isle of pirates?” she exclaimed. The small island to the southeast had been a thorn when Daerva used to trade with Verlora. Once the continent turned deadly to those who tried to brave its shores, the number of ships sailing that ocean dropped, and so did the attacks.

“It is a place of lawlessness, so not surprising that someone wishing to do such a dirty deed would seek them out.”

Avera noticed something by the first assassin’s ear and tilted his head before pointing. “He has a tattoo of a dagger.”

“That’s the assassin’s guild symbol.” Gustav crouched and checked the others. “They all have it.”

“Meaning someone hired them.”

“Aye and I hadn’t the slightest clue.” His lips turned down.

“In your defense, this type of thing never happens.”

“Your mother knew it was coming. I should have known something was amiss when she began carrying a dagger,” he grumbled. “She told me some lie about it being because she’d seen some rats.”

“Perhaps she wanted proof before worrying you.”

“It’s my job to worry.”

“Hiring that many assassins would be expensive,” she mused aloud, trying to distract him from his guilt.

“Very. Whoever planned this must have deep pockets.”

“Or several people conspired as a group. How many lords and ladies would be rich enough to afford such a team of killers?”

“Not many.”

“How would they have been contacted? We don’t send ships to Saarpira.”

“No, but it wouldn’t be that hard for someone to get word to them. As to how the killers got to Daerva, I would assume they smuggled themselves in via one of our trading ships.” Gustav offered the most likely scenario.

“Meaning either our port authorities were lax in their duty, or were paid off,” she murmured as her mind ran through possibilities.

“Could be they anchored offshore somewhere along the coast and took a skiff in.”

“The cliffs aren’t easy to scale,” she pointed out. The Daerva continent was primarily above sea level with only the two ports being accessible to vessels. It usually kept them safe as an invasion of any kind would not only have to first get past the port defenses, but then suffer a steep trek upward. A long-ago invasion attempt had failed as the Daervian army simply rained down hot pitch and arrows on them, decimating the invading force.

“Not easy for most folks, but assassins are specially trained to get into difficult places.”

“What else do they have on them? Perhaps they have instructions or a token to indicate who hired them.”

Gustav frowned as she rummaged at the assassin’s belt. “You shouldn’t be touching them.”

“Whyever not?”

“Because we don’t know if they had traps on their persons. I’ve heard stories of assassins putting poison on their possessions.”

“Wouldn’t that make it difficult for them to use?” She plucked a few gold coins from a pouch and pursed her lips. “These are from three different countries.” There was the tree-embossed round disk that Okkilam produced, then a symbol on a thin coin which indicated Pequilh, and finally a blank coin. That could have been from anywhere.

Gustav searched the other bodies and they made a pile of coins, some from each continent, with the unstamped ones outnumbering the rest.

She sat back on her haunches. “Well, that didn’t reveal anything.” Nor did they find a note, which would have been helpful. “At least we know that the killers weren’t from Daerva.”

“But whoever hired them most likely is. They must be wondering if there’s anything on the bodies that will tie them to the crime.”

She glanced at him. “You think they’ll do something.”

“I’d say it’s possible. I’ll have some people stationed to watch and see if anyone attempts to get close to the bodies.”

“Surely no one would be so foolish. They’d be immediately suspect.”

“I’d like to cover all scenarios which includes a possible panic by the perpetrator that we did find something. If they suspect you know their identity, they will be desperate to kill you.”

“You too, since you’re with me,” she pointed out.

“Let them try.” His lips tugged into a smile, the same one he’d given her the few times he’d tested her training with a blade and she managed to slip past his guard.

They exited the dungeon to see activity had resumed in the castle, albeit with less loud chatter and laughter. Servants bustled around, and those who spoke did so in hushed whispers that came with many looks in her direction.

“They keep staring at me,” Avera mumbled as they strode for her mother’s office. Might as well get started on the reading of those ledgers. It would keep her occupied and out of sight. The curtseying as she passed people discomfited as did the dipped heads and, “Condolences, Your Majesty.” How should one act when a horrible murder elevated them to the loftiest position?

“You should expect the scrutiny for the next little bit as they take your measure.”

“Shouldn’t they already know my character? I’ve lived here my whole life.”

“As the invisible daughter. You weren’t expected to ever play an important role, especially once you went past the usual age daughters are married off for an alliance.”

“That’s apparently going to change. My mother told me I had to find a consort.” Avera couldn’t help a sour note.

“She was right. Birthing an heir will do much to cement your position.”

“Even if I married tomorrow, any child I had would be almost two decades away from being old enough to rule.”

“Then you’d better not die.”

She glanced at him. “Mother said in the event there is no heir, the lords and ladies would most likely squabble for the position.”

“They would.”

“Is there not some kind of guidance on what to do if that happened?”

“There might be, but I’ve never heard of it since it’s never been an issue before.”

“Guess I’ll have to visit the library and find out.”

“Why would you waste your time doing that? It’s not like it matters since you’re in charge now.”

“Curiosity,” she said with a tight smile in his direction. “After all, someone went through some trouble and expense to eradicate my line. Either they knew something about how the next king or queen would be chosen, or planned to lead a coup in the chaos that would have resulted.”

“Any kind of coup would have needed the cooperation of the military.”

“Who’s to say they don’t have it?”

“I’d know,” was his flat reply.

“Would you? It could be only those who would be receptive to the idea were approached.”

“Meaning I should listen for any discontent about your sudden ascension,” he murmured with a nod. “I told your mother you had a bright mind.”

“Wait, did she actually want to know?” Though her mother had claimed so, Avera still found it hard to believe.

“Yes. She supposedly had her reasons for being distant—and before you ask, she never revealed them to me—but she was always very much interested in your welfare. Why do you think I came around so often during your lessons?”

“To show me how much I still needed to learn.” The memory of the bruises remained, but at the same time, each instance Gustav had slipped past her guard to mete them, she’d studied where she went wrong and improved for the next time.

“You were an apt pupil. She took great pride in your skill even if she never showed it.”

“It’s odd to me to find out now that she cared,” Avera admitted as they entered the royal office, a room that held the lingering scent of her mother’s perfume.

“I’m not sure I fully grasp why she distanced herself from you, but I have a feeling some of it had to do with your siblings. Your brother in particular was quite vocal about having you shipped to a convent.”

“Whatever for?”

“Given your mother’s secrecy around your parentage, he considered you an embarrassment.”

“That’s interesting, seeing as how he was the one who had to be carted to the palace on numerous occasions for getting so drunk he passed out. Usually in a brothel.” Avera had felt sorry for his wife who had to pretend to not hear or see the snickers of those who mocked and pitied her.

“Your brother might have had the title First Prince, but he was an idiot and a bully. Your mother worried about him becoming king.”

“It is slightly baffling to me that so many countries rule by blood ascension rather than ability. Shouldn’t the people have someone competent in charge who values their wellbeing and not someone who happens to have simply been born to be a royal?”

“Centuries of habit, my queen. And what other way would they choose? Trial by might? You could end up with a brute. Intelligence? How would you measure it? Same with compassion, or courage. What makes a good ruler?”

She sighed. “It just feels wrong to suddenly be given such a lofty position, especially since I never was taught any politics.”

“The thing you need to know is everyone lies. Everyone is greedy. If they cozy up to you with praise, be suspicious.”

“You make it sound as if I can’t have friends.”

He arched a brow at her. “I wasn’t aware you had many as it was.”

She didn’t. She usually preferred her own devices. “Thanks for pointing that out,” she grumbled.

Since Avera couldn’t bring herself to sit in her mother’s chair, she retrieved the ledgers and chose to perch in the window seat—which Gustav didn’t approve of.

“You’re making yourself a target.”

She waved a hand. “The window overlooks the lake and there are no ships. I’ll be fine. And, I will add, you don’t need to hover.”

“Yes, I do. It’s only been hours since the murders.”

Only hours? It felt like forever already.

“Well, you’re going to get mighty bored since I’m planning to read.” With that, she opened the ledger and began perusing the contents, and within minutes was bored at the itemization of every single thing. From shipments received, exports, squabbles among lords, crimes that resulted in arrest.

It led to her mind wandering, pondering the incongruity of her mother’s final words versus her actions.

Her mother had loved her. Something Avera had yearned for as a child but given up on as she grew older.

How different?—

Boom.

A sudden rumble shook the palace.

She eyed Gustav and he frowned as he murmured, “That sounded like an explosion.”

It was. It took only moments to find out the cause.

A bomb in the dungeon had exploded, decimating the corpses of the assassins.

The revelation led to Gustav glancing at her and muttering, “Good thing we didn’t linger during our examination.”

Good thing indeed. Twice today she’d evaded death. Would she be so lucky a third time?