Four Dead Queens(88)

And she was.





CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN





Keralie



A few hours later, I woke to the last of the stars twinkling through the glass dome. Another day starting and the beginning of my third day in the palace, four since I’d stolen Varin’s comm case, and I was no closer to finding the assassin. We were no closer.

I turned and found myself curled on a dusty rug. I held back a sneeze to not wake Varin and sat upright. I finally took in our hiding place: the walls were covered in rolls of fabric, and on two long tables in the middle of the room sat several sewing machines and half-made dresses.

The palace’s sewing room.

It looked like the seamstresses had left in a hurry, their machines’ needles still pressed into lengths of material. No doubt they’d been running from the hordes of angry and confused palace visitors flooding the corridors, or because they’d smelled the smoke. No one cared about dresses while queens were being slain in the corridors.

I had to find Queen Marguerite before the assassin did. At this point, I didn’t care if I was arrested. As long as she would hear me out—long enough not to eat or drink anything without it being tested first. The assassin wouldn’t win. I would do what I should’ve from the beginning. I’d tell the palace everything I knew.

I turned back to my resting place to wake Varin, but he wasn’t there, and the space beside me was cold. Where had he gone? He wouldn’t have abandoned me, but the sight of an empty rug made my stomach clench.

Had he been captured? Perhaps the inspector had found us in here and pulled him from the room. Had the assassin? Why hadn’t he taken me as well? Was Mackiel still playing with me?

I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. But I hadn’t had a full night’s rest in days.

I dusted myself down and pushed the door open a crack to see if anyone was passing by. Once convinced it was clear, I shifted into the hallway.

Why was it so quiet? Where was everyone? I squeezed my hands into fists.

Varin will be fine. Everything will be fine. Find Queen Marguerite. Stop this mess. Find Varin later.

I headed toward Queen Marguerite’s rooms. On the way, I passed by the infirmary. The door was slightly ajar. I pushed the door open, then halted in the doorway. Four bodies lay on metal gurneys, sheets pulled high to cover their faces.

Four—four queens. All of them dead.

“No,” I whispered.

My legs went weak, and I collapsed. Strong arms caught me from behind, propping me up.

“Varin,” I breathed. “We’re too late.”

“It’s not Varin,” a gentle voice said.

I looked down. Strange long fingers splayed around my waist from where he’d caught me.

The inspector.

I shoved him off and scurried into the infirmary, weaving in and around the gurneys and toward the back wall. But there was nowhere to go; the inspector was blocking the only way out.

“Back so soon?” he asked, seemingly unsurprised to find me there.

“I’m helping Queen Marguerite,” I said, repeating the lie we’d told Christon. “I’m trying to help uncover the assassin.”

“Is that so?” He tilted his head, studying me.

I couldn’t help but flick my eyes over to the fourth gurney. I’d failed her.

The inspector looped his comm line around his ear to capture our conversation.

Where was Varin? He could get me out of this mess.

“Yes,” I said.

“And yesterday when you were listening in on my autopsy report, that was to help Queen Marguerite?”

He knew we were there?

“Oh, yes,” he said, reading my confusion. “I’ve known you were in the palace for a while.” He gave a little whistle, then smiled. “The only question remaining is why you’re here.”

“Why are you here?” I countered. “You were in the palace before Queen Iris died. Why would you be here before there were any murders to investigate?”

“That is untrue,” he said. “I arrived after Queen Iris was slain.”

“Your name wasn’t on the visitors list!”

“Authorities are not required to sign in.”

No. No. It couldn’t be that simple.

“But you were here,” he said with a frown. He opened a silver comm case from his waist and fluttered his fingers across the hundreds of comm chips. He must’ve asked Queen Marguerite to recall all the court interactions that day and recorded her memories. He selected one, closed his eyes and placed the chip on his tongue to ingest the memory.

When he opened his eyes, they were steely. “Yes, you were here from the beginning. You gave information on a wanted criminal called Mackiel. This was before Queen Iris was slain.”

“Don’t turn this around on me!” I pointed at him. “I was trying to help!”

The inspector looked at the covered bodies. “And did you?”

“This is not my fault!” Where’s Varin? If anything had happened to him, I would never forgive myself.

“That has yet to be determined,” he replied.

Footsteps sounded in the hall. While the inspector glanced out the doorway, I grabbed the nearest and sharpest scalpel.

“Hello,” the inspector called out to whoever was walking by. “You’re just in time. I believe I’ve found your Keralie.”