Chapter 9

Aymeri's entire being was filled with fear as she and Drystan waited for silence to fall in the castle. She was waiting for everyone to go to their rooms and settle in before the two of them investigated the floor above them.It had been a long day of pointless conversations with lords and ladies who knew her mother, but didn't know her mother. The empty condolences were more than she could bear as the visitors all stuffed their faces with endless amounts of food and drink. Such customs needed to be banned from mourning periods. There was no reason why a grieving person needed to house and entertain so many people when there were other affairs to be put in order.

Many questioned when she was going to have her coronation, and if they should stay until then. While she assured them it would happen soon, she wanted anything but for them to take over the guest wings in her castle. She very much preferred deafening silence to roars of laughter and pretentious tears.

"Do you think it's safe now?" Drystan's whisper cut the suspenseful silence in the room, making Aymeri jump as goosebumps popped up along herarms. She wasn't sure why, but she felt as if the palace was suddenly going to come alive and expel her—or worse, swallow her. It must've shown on her face, because Drystan placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her, a reassuring smile spreading across his face.

Jorlyn pulled her ear away from the door and nodded before opening it. She had spent the better part of the day snooping around for any information she could hear among the royals staying with them.

Aymeri wasn't thrilled to have no new knowledge, but she wasn't upset with the woman, either. She figured either the other royals didn't know anything, or they were too afraid to speak up. The one thing that did disturb her, though, was that none of them saw the veiled woman again. Jorlyn was the one who did the asking. Aymeri thought that if she did, more rumors would swirl about her going mad, like her mother. Everyone the assassin had asked said they had never seen such a woman, so she was either wearing her royal clothes in front of everyone else, or she was hiding away in a room without eating. Aymeri preferred to think it was the former.

"I'll let you lead the way as you did last night." Jorlyn held the door open for her. And just as a precaution ,she looked both ways in the corridor before stepping out.

Drystan and Jorlyn were on either side of her as they all crept barefoot through the palace of secrets—because essentially, that's what it was to her now—down to the main floor where the study was. They were hoping to find something— anything— that could help them identify the person who had been up there. And what was behind the doors? What had made her sister so sick that she passed away? So far, Aymeri hadn't felt different or sick. If whatever was up there was the reason for her sister's ultimate demise, then why wasn't she feeling out of the ordinary? Or was it a slow, progressing sickness that she'd start to feel in a few days' time?

As for what was behind the locked doors, a million scenarios ran through her mind, from the floor being used as storage for old furniture, paintings, and heirlooms, to the most terrifying: dead or mummified bodies of family members. Either way, she believed she had a right to know, especially since she was now Queen of Treoles. But she would not place the crown on her head until she learned every little secret this palace and her mother held.

When they came upon the staircase, Aymeri immediately gathered the keys in her hand, in case she needed them again, careful to make sure they didn't make noise as they ascended the staircase. When they got to the door, her heartbeat quickened, and her body tensed. With one pull of the curved handle, it gave way. A chill crept up her spine, lingering longer than she would have liked it to.

Ser Parzival made her promise to never go to the floor again, and now that she was there, about to back through the door, she instantly regretted it. Clearly, someone was more obsessed with that floor than she was, or someone was living there without telling her.

As she fully opened the door, light spilled into the dark staircase. Aymeri's eyes widened in disbelief, and she began to tremble. Before her very eyes was the green marble floor that wasn't there last night, and the laughter of guests who were still awake rang through her ears. Her eyebrows knitted in confusion and indecipherable thoughts swam in her mind.

How did we end up here ?

Laughter and chatter tore through the corridor from the rooms on either side of her. The staircase did not lead to the guest wing the night before, so how was it possible that they were there?

Turning to Drystan, whose face mirrored hers, Aymeri opened her mouth to speak. But she was silenced by Jorlyn, who put a finger to her lips and motioned for them to go back to Aymeri's wing. As they walked back through the double doors leading to the royal wing, the princess' hands shook uncontrollably. Tears pricked the back of her eyes.

I'm not going insane . I'm not. I know what I did.

Fear churned her stomach. Her legs felt wobbly beneath her as if they were going to give out and cause her to fall.

Nothing is right .

As if someone took over her body and led her the rest of the way, she entered her room. Tears welled in Aymeri's eyes as she sat down at the round table in the middle. Resting her elbows on the table, she ran her hand through her hair, pushing the stray strands of her long braid out of her face as she did so. She rubbed her hands over her face as the tears silently fell.

"What the hell is going on here?" Drystan asked, his voice an octave above a whisper.

"Are you sure we went up the correct staircase?" Jorlyn asked, placing her hands on the princess' shoulders to calm her.

"Jorlyn," Drystan's voice deadpanned.

"Right. Right. Sorry. That's not helpful, is it?"

Aymeri imagined Drystan shaking his head, but she was too emotional to look up and engage in conversation with them. Of course she took the right staircase. Both times. It was one she had used over and over again after countless balls.

"No, it's not. I was with her. It was the same staircase. I just don't understand how it can lead to both places."

Neither do I . One set of stairs could only lead to two different places if there were two different doors at the top of them, but there was only one door on top.

"Aymeri?" Drystan's voice was soft as he pulled a chair in front of her. Her tears and heartbeat began to slow as he smoothed her hair and hummed softly. The tune was familiar to her, a song her mother used to sing when she was child. A broken fragment of a memory came to her. She was sitting on a garden swing, someone pushing her from behind while her mother laughed from in front of her. Childhood laughter rang in her ears, but she couldn't see anyone else's face except the two of them. Could it have been Drystan? And if it was, why don't I remember him?

Sniffling, she sucked in a deep breath and let it out. "I don't understand," she whispered, looking over at Drystan, then Jorlyn who was sitting on the chair across from her. "Maybe I was mistaken? Maybe that wasn't the right staircase?"

Drystan shook his head. "That's impossible. I was there with you. We took the same path."

Suddenly, it clicked in her mind. The castle workers shares gossip back and forth that my mother was going insane, that she was unwell. Could she have been driven to take her own life? Is that why no one seems to think anything was amiss? And if that is the case, are they now trying to do the same thing to me? It was more than likely. "Someone is trying to drive me insane." The words flew out of her mouth without a second thought. "What if Mother wasn't truly murdered by someone's hand, but instead driven there, so if anyone was asked, they would truly be innocent?"

"Like being the one to plant the seed, but not yanking it free when it's fully grown?" Jorlyn asked, her analogy one that the princess had never heard before.

"Exactly like that, I think."

"What Jorlyn means is that someone put the thought in her head. They drove her to the point of wanting to take her own life so they wouldn't get their own hands dirty. But who would do such a thing?"

No one. That's the problem . Everyone seemed to love her mother and she seemed to love them in return. No one had ever spoken an ill word about her until she heard the two gossip eaters speaking beneath her balcony. "Grazia shares my sentiments. She also thinks someone is responsible for mother's death."

"We'll get to the bottom of it. I'm here. This is exactly what your mother hired me to do," Jorlyn assured her. "I'm sorry that I wasn't with her that night. I shouldn't have left my post, even if she asked me to. I knew what I was hired to do and… " Her words stopped there, choked by the tears sliding down her cheeks. She reached across the table and took the princess' hands in hers. "I'm sorry, Aymeri. I'm so sorry." She hung her head.

Aymeri stood, Drystan moving out of her way. She crossed the table and hugged the assassin who had slowly but surely become a true friend. "It wasn't your fault, Jorlyn. You didn't know. You were just following orders."

"Orders I had no business following," Jorlyn spoke between sobs.

"You are an assassin," the princess reminded her. "Don't you ever miss your mark?"

"Yes, but—"

"But nothing," she interjected. "You missed your mark this time, but you won't miss next time. We'll catch the person responsible. Together."

And she meant it. They would work together and do whatever it took in order to find out who drove her mother to madness and murdered her.