Four Dead Queens(38)

“My queen,” he said, bowing again as Corra took a seat opposite him.

“Inspector.” She inclined her chin. “How is the investigation progressing? Any news?”

She wanted the killer found as quickly as possible, not only as justice for Iris but to be rid of the inspector and his probing inquiries. While no one inside the palace knew her secret, it wouldn’t take much digging into her past to discover that her relatives living outside the palace had never met her. And Corra knew an Eonist inspector would explore all avenues of treason, from both inside and outside the palace dome. If anyone discovered where she’d grown up, she would lose her throne in an instant.

For the first time, Corra was happy the woman who’d raised her, as well as her birth mother, was long dead.

“I’m afraid I can’t speak of my findings, my queen,” he said. “Not while the case is still open.”

And while we’re all suspects, she thought. Being a queen wouldn’t change that. After all, who had more access to the queens than their sisters?

She nodded. “How can I assist you?”

“You can tell me all you know about Queen Iris.”

“I’m not sure I have anything else to add. Surely you have spoken to the other queens and advisors?” Corra forced herself not to bring a hand to her watch, for fear he might ask her what she was hiding beneath her dermasuit. His eyes would miss nothing.

“I have, my queen. But I wish to hear from you also.” She wasn’t sure whether it was because he trusted her opinion more, or whether he wanted to compare notes with the other queens. Likely both.

Corra told him what she knew about Iris. How she had come to the palace years before her. A lie. How she was closest to Marguerite. Another lie. And how Corra knew little more about her private life than what had been displayed. The biggest lie of all.

“Queens don’t have private lives,” Corra finished.

“Thank you, my queen.” He seemed appeased. He would never expect an Eonist to lie, and certainly not the Eonist queen. “And do you have any theories on who might have wanted her dead?”

Corra swallowed. “I really don’t know.” She rubbed two fingers across her temples. “There have been threats to the palace and the queens in the past, but nothing recent.”

“Is there anything else you think I should know?”

Corra paused, holding back the stories and lies, and actually considered his question—some truth to allow him to find the bastard who had slain her love. While she didn’t want the inspector’s attention on her, there was a reason she had asked for Inspector Garvin to take this case. He was the quickest and the best. Iris deserved retribution.

“In the last few days,” Corra began, “before Queen Iris’s death . . .” She paused again, watching as the inspector pressed something on the recorder around his ear. A flag, she realized. But flagging what? “She was short with everyone—shorter than normal. And she missed a few nightly dinners. We didn’t see her unless she was in court.”

“I’ve heard similar reports from the other queens,” the inspector said. “Queen Iris wanted to change Queenly Law. She was to discuss it with you the day after she was killed.”

“Change Queenly Law?” Corra repeated.

He leaned forward, eyes piercing. “Did you know anything about that?”

Corra said, “No, nothing.” But that was another lie. She knew exactly why Iris wanted to change Queenly Law. Rule eight. She wanted to be allowed to roam the palace’s corridors hand in hand with Corra. She wanted to spend her nights with her love freely, without sneaking in and out. Perhaps she even wanted to marry Corra. Now she’d never know.

Iris had often talked about changing this aspect of Queenly Law, but Corra had argued that it would reveal Corra’s more devastating secret, that she had not been raised in Eonia. Iris had agreed to let it go. Or so Corra had thought.

The night before Iris’s death, there had been a noticeable difference in her mood. Even when they were alone, Iris’s frostiness did not completely dissipate. Corra had asked what was bothering her, and Iris commented on how the throne diverted love—not that it made it more difficult, but it actually put a divider between two people. Initially, Corra had thought she was talking about their relationship, and she’d put her arm around Iris’s narrow waist and told her that their thrones had brought them together.

But Iris had shaken her head. “It’s not just us,” she’d said. “All queens are denied love.”

Corra had been confused. She didn’t know that this rule was an issue with any of the other queens. Iris was not close to Stessa, the age gap and differing cultures too much to bridge, which left only the eldest queen. “Marguerite?” Corra asked.

Iris had only sighed and changed the topic. Yet there was something in her eyes that had told Corra she’d guessed wrong.

What had Iris known about the youngest queen?

“Anything else important?” the inspector pressed, bringing her attention back to him.

Before she could stop it, there was a prickling at the back of her eyes at the thought of that last night together. The last night they would ever have. Their last touch.

She needed to get out of this room. Before she broke apart and her secret was laid bare. She touched the face of the watch beneath her suit.