The Winner's Curse (The Winner's Trilogy, #1)(29)

The day, which had been beautiful to her, no longer looked as bright.

Yet when they stopped to sit under a tree, Ronan’s smile returned. He opened his saddlebags to reveal lunch, then unfurled a picnic blanket with a flourish, settled onto it, and stretched out his long form. Kestrel joined him. He poured a glass of wine and offered it.

She lifted a brow. “That is a rather large amount of wine for this time of day.”

“I hope to ply you with it, and make you say things you won’t regret.”

She sipped, watching him pour a second cup, and said, “Are you not afraid for yourself?”

He drank. “Why should I be?”

“Perhaps it is you who will reveal things he’d rather not. I understand you’ve been paying call to Lady Faris.”

“Jealous, Kestrel?”

“No.”

“Pity.” He sighed. “The sad, dull truth is that Faris has the best gossip.”

“Which you will share.”

Ronan leaned back to rest on one elbow. “Well, Senator Andrax has been moved to the capital, where he awaits trial for selling black powder to our enemies. The black powder hasn’t been found, despite the search—no surprise there, really. It probably vanished into the east long ago. Now, what else? Senator Linux’s daughter stole quite a few hours with a certain sailor on board one of the ships in the harbor, and has been shut away in her rooms by her parents for the fall season—probably winter, too. My friend Hanan has gambled away his inheritance—don’t worry, Kestrel, he’ll get it back. Just please, please do not play Bite and Sting with him for a few months. Oh, and the captain of the city guard committed suicide. But you knew that.”

She almost spilled her wine. “No. When did that happen?”

“The day before yesterday. You really didn’t know? Well, your father’s away again, I suppose. And you spend too much time sealed inside that villa. How you don’t go mad with boredom is beyond me.”

Kestrel knew the captain. Oskar had dined at her house. He was a friend of her father’s, and unlike most of his friends he was jovial and well liked.

“It was an honor suicide,” Ronan said, which meant that the captain had fallen on his sword.

“But why?”

Ronan shrugged. “The pressure of his position?”

“He was captain since the colonization. He was excellent at it, and respected.”

“Personal troubles, perhaps.” Ronan spread his hands. “Really, I don’t know, and I wish I’d never brought up such a dreary topic. This day hasn’t gone at all as I had hoped. Could we please talk about something other than suicide?”

*

On the way home, Arin said, “Was your ride not pleasant?”

Kestrel glanced up, startled by his biting tone. She realized she had been frowning, lost in thought. “Oh, it was very nice. I’m just troubled by some news.”

“What news?”

“The captain of the city guard has killed himself.”

“Does this … grieve you? Did you know him?”

“Yes. No. Yes, I knew him, as a friend of my father’s, but not well enough to feel his death.”

“Then I don’t understand why it should concern you.”

“It concerns the whole city. There’s bound to be some disorder as the governor appoints a new captain, and the transition might not go smoothly. Oskar was very good at policing the city and his guards. That isn’t what bothers me.” Kestrel shook her head. “His suicide is the second thing to happen recently that doesn’t make sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“Senator Andrax. He loves gold, to be sure, but only because it buys him comfort. Good food, mistresses. He likes bribes: easy money. He won’t sit down at a Bite and Sting table with me, he’s so afraid of losing. How could he risk everything to sell black powder to the barbarians?”

“Maybe there is a side of him you have never seen. But he has nothing to do with the captain.”

“Except that both events are strange. Oskar had no reason to commit suicide. Even the emperor had praised his performance as captain. His guards admired him. He seemed happy.”

“So? You don’t know everything. People are unhappy for many reasons.” Arin’s voice was impatient, and she thought that they were no longer talking about the captain. “What do you know of unhappiness?” he said. “What makes you think you can see into the hearts of men?”

He spurred his horse ahead, and the puzzle about the senator and the captain flew out of Kestrel’s mind as she concentrated on keeping up.





17


Kestrel’s father didn’t dismiss the captain’s death as easily as Ronan and Arin had. During the next lesson in the library, he listened to Kestrel broach the topic, his brow furrowing into deep lines.

“Did Oskar have enemies?” she asked.

“Everyone has enemies.”

“Perhaps someone made life difficult for him.”

“Or someone made him fall on his sword.” When the general saw her surprise he said, “It’s not hard to make murder look like an honor suicide.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” she said quietly.

“And what do you think now?”