Long May She Reign(79)

“That is not all, Your Majesty. I know you wish to see the good in people, and I respect you for that, but I have been conducting my own research into the murders, and into Fitzroy’s behavior. Something has not been right.”

“Why can’t Norling hear about this?”

“She disagrees with me, Your Majesty. As she does about many things. She did not consider the avenues worth pursuing. But I believe she is wrong.”

“And you’ve—found evidence?”

He’d been assembling a case against Fitzroy. Not openly, not with Norling, but in secret, alone. Because Fitzroy was a problem, and he needed to be dealt with. Because he damaged Holt’s idea of the perfect chosen queen. An official investigation would find nothing on him, but if Holt was determined enough, and manipulated the evidence enough . . .

“I found a mention, in the diary of King Jorgen’s chief adviser. He commented that the king planned to disinherit Fitzroy.”

“Fitzroy was never inherited to begin with.”

“But he always had that hope. We all knew that, Your Majesty. It seems very possible to me that Fitzroy was tired of being out of favor, and decided to act to change that.”

“By murdering everybody?”

“He murdered many people, Your Majesty. Everyone who might have known anything about his so-called legitimacy. He wished to unsettle things, so that he could step into the throne instead.”

Holt looked terrifyingly sincere. That would be odd if he were the murderer himself. But I didn’t trust the sanity of anyone willing to kill so many people. If Holt could convince himself that he was an agent of the Forgotten, murdering for the greater good, surely he could convince himself that Fitzroy deserved to be punished, as well. Surely he could perform this one final task.

“Fitzroy didn’t make any move for the throne,” I said carefully. “He didn’t want it.”

“When he realized that someone in the city had survived, I believe he changed his strategy. He decided to win you over. Whether for a later betrayal or to gain the crown through marriage, I do not know.”

“Stop.” The word burst out of me. “That’s enough. I trust Fitzroy. Which is more than I can say for you right now.”

I almost asked him about his presence in the palace. The words were on the tip of my tongue, ready to be thrown at him, but then I saw his expression, and I paused. He looked resolved. As though the last piece of a terrible truth had fallen into place, and now he only had to react to it.

“I am sorry that you feel that way, Your Majesty,” he said. “But the problem must be dealt with, regardless of your feelings. If you will excuse me.”

He bowed, rather stiffly, and strode out of the room.

The problem must be dealt with. The words rang in my ears. Dealt with, like Holt may have dealt with the rest of the court. Like a weed, needing to be ripped away in order for his precious new queen to flourish.

I found Fitzroy in the lab, going through more of his father’s papers. He glanced up as the door creaked open.

“Fitzroy.” I closed the door behind me, sealing the rest of the castle away. “You have to go.”

“Go?” He frowned. “Freya, what’s wrong?”

“Holt—he thinks you’re a threat.”

He shook his head, turning back to the notes. “People always think I’m a threat. I’ve survived so far.”

I had to make him understand. I hurried forward, grabbing his shoulder. “He says you have to be dealt with. He’s going to kill you, Fitzroy.”

He didn’t even look up. “He’s not going to kill me.”

How could he be so calm? “You have to leave. Find somewhere safe to go.” I turned away decisively, as though he would move just because I willed it so. “Once this is all over, you’ll be able to come back, whatever happens.”

“Leave?” That got his attention. “I’m not going to leave.”

“Yes, you are. It’s common sense, Fitzroy! He’s planning to kill you. You shouldn’t stay here.” I grabbed his arm, ready to haul him off the stool, but he didn’t budge.

“Holt is not going to hurt me, Freya.” His voice was low and calm, as though I was the one who didn’t understand things here. “He’s a bit strange, but he’s not a murderer.”

“You don’t know that. Somebody here is. And he wants to get rid of you, either way.”

“So I won’t give him the pleasure.”

“I’m your queen.” I stuck up my chin. “You’re supposed to do as I say.”

“But I won’t.”

I could have shoved him. I almost did, to jolt some sense back into his idiot brain. “I could order you,” I said. “I could kick you out of the Fort. My advisers would be more than happy if I did.”

“You could. But you won’t.” He turned back to the notes again. I tugged on his arm, pulling him back around.

“Fitzroy—this isn’t an empty threat. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Good,” Fitzroy said. “Then let’s concentrate on figuring this out who the murderer is.” When I didn’t move, he sighed. “You need me here, Freya. You can’t expect me to leave, just because Holt is acting oddly.”