He turned and led the way out of the main hall, speaking in slightly bored tones about the history of the palace. The main floor was entirely above the surface of the lake, while the private quarters and the ballroom were located underneath the water. It had been specifically built so from anywhere in the palace, anyone could access the lake within five minutes.
As we went down a spiral staircase to the lower level, I noted that despite the recurring marine theme, the Skojare palace was decorated similarly to other palaces. A sculpture that appeared to be a Bernini sat in the center of the great room at the bottom of the stairs.
“That’s Neptune and Triton,” Kennet said offhandedly as we walked past it.
The floors were marble tiles, alternating between white and navy, and the walls were covered in the same paper as upstairs—blue with an icy sheen. Crystal chandeliers lit the hallway that led to our rooms.
We reached Ridley’s room first, with Kennet opening the door and gesturing inside before quickly walking away. I gave Ridley a small smile, then hurried after Kennet to my room at the other end of the hall.
“And here you are.” Kennet held the door open for me, and I slid past him. “I’ll let you get settled in a bit. There’s a bathroom across the hall. My room is at the other wing of the palace.” He pointed toward it. “But if you ask any of the servants, they will tell you where to find me.
“If you need anything,” he said, his voice low and deep, “anything at all, don’t hesitate to find me.”
“Thank you,” I said, and he smiled at me in a way that I was sure plenty of girls had swooned over before, but I was not the swooning kind, so I merely smiled politely back.
Once he left, shutting the door behind him, I turned to check out my room, and I realized that an underwater palace sounded much nicer than it actually was. The walls facing outside were rounded glass, making me feel more like I was in an aquarium than a luxury bedroom.
The bed and the furnishings were nice, all silks and velvets in blues and silver, but through the windows the lake looked dark and murky. I pressed my hands against the glass and peered upward through the water at the few rays of sunlight that managed to break through.
A small tuft of dark green mold grew where the window met the frame. That explained the smell. As soon as I’d stepped downstairs, I’d noticed the scent of moisture and mold. It reminded me of a dank old basement.
I noticed a small puddle of water dripping down from a leak somewhere near the ceiling. I looked closer and saw water dripping down the wall, leaving a patch of wallpaper faded and warped.
Once upon a time, I was sure, this palace had been absolutely magnificent, but the Skojare’s wealth—and thus their ability to maintain a palace of this caliber—had begun to diminish. Since most of the royalty had gills, the Skojare were often unable to leave their offspring as changelings. Humans might overlook an ill-tempered child with odd habits, but they would definitely notice a set of blue gills on their baby.
If they were to reverse the situation, leaving common gill-less Skojare as changelings, the commoners would inherit the wealth, which the royalty did not approve of. Titles and rankings were determined by abilities, so most of the gilled Skojare were in positions of royalty, leaving the entire system to stagnate.
Those born with gills were trapped in Storvatten, unable to live or work among the humans, while those born without them were left doing the brunt of the work. Fishing was the main source of income for the Skojare, with the gill-less being forced to do the trading with the humans, and the royalty survived through insane amounts of taxes. The ones who could leave and get jobs with the humans often did, so the population of the Skojare had dwindled.
“Bryn?” Ridley asked, rapping on the door once before pushing it open. “How are you doing?”
“Fine.” I turned around to face him. “What do you make of all this?”
“I don’t know.” He flopped back on my bed and folded his hands behind his head. “It was in poor taste for that Prince to flirt with you while we’re supposed to be looking for his missing sister-in-law.”
I scowled down at Ridley. “He wasn’t flirting.”
“You never know when anyone is flirting with you,” he muttered.
“I do agree that everyone’s behavior feels a little … off.” I sat down on the edge of the bed. “When I met Mikko last week, he was cold and barely spoke. Now he’s falling apart?” I shook my head. “It doesn’t quite add up.”
THIRTY-TWO
suspicion
The meeting room was even more like a fishbowl. It stuck out from the rest of the palace in a bubble, with one interior wall and one extra wall of glass domed out around us. Half the room was still under the palace, with a white antique tin ceiling and plenty of lighting to keep the darkness of the lake around us at bay.
A very long table sat in the center of the room, but there were only three other people in there when the footman showed Ridley and me in. Papers were spread out over the table, but nobody was looking at them. Prince Kennet stood at the far end of the room, and the other two men had their backs to us.
“Come in!” Kennet waved for us to join them, and then the young men turned to face us as we approached. “These are our allies from the Trylle.”
The first had unruly chestnut hair that landed just above his ears, and his tanned skin had an almost greenish hue, subtle but noticeable enough that it meant he had strong abilities for the Trylle. The more powerful a Trylle was, the greener he or she was in coloring. He was dressed the less formally of the two—wearing only jeans and a button-up shirt, while his companion wore a suit.
His companion had short dark brown hair, kept smooth and neat. His features were delicate, almost feminine, with a small nose and smooth skin. It was his eyes that stood out the most to me—they were a bright blue, which meant that although he came with the Trylle, he must have Skojare blood in him, too.
“I’d like you to meet our friends from the Kanin,” Kennet told them, motioning to us. “These are two of their finest trackers, Ridley Dresden and Bryn Aven.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” the blue-eyed one said, leaning forward and shaking our hands.
“This is the Trylle Chancellor, Bain Ottesen,” Kennet gestured to Blue Eyes. “And this is Markis Tove Kroner, adviser to the Trylle Queen.”
“Pleasure to meet you both,” I said, bowing slightly to them, since they were both apparently my superiors.
The Trylle were peculiar, and growing more so since their new Queen had begun her reign four years ago. They sent white-collar advisers and Chancellors—high-ranking members of their society—while the Kanin had sent blue-collar trackers. Not only because it made sense for us to go, since Ridley and I knew more about going after missing people than an adviser would, but also because our Markis never would do something like this.
But maybe the Trylle just viewed the situation differently. They may have sent Bain and Tove more as figureheads to lend support rather than actual aid, while King Evert had sent Ridley and me because there was a real fear that something dangerous might be afoot.
“If we’re all here, maybe we should get into it, then?” Tove asked, tucking his hair behind his ears.
“Yes, I was saying before, we have the reports from the guards that night, and I have the layout for the palace, if that will help you.” Kennet stepped back and motioned to the papers on the table.
“So will we actually be able to interview the guards that searched for the Queen?” Ridley asked.
Kennet shook his head sadly. “The King thought the reports would be adequate enough.”
Tove stepped over to the table and started going through the papers until he found the report. I stood next to him, peering over his shoulder so I could read it. It was handwritten, and I couldn’t make out every word. But the general gist seemed to be that the guards had looked everywhere and found no trace of her.
“So the King was the last person to see her?” Tove asked as he reached the end of the report.
“Yes,” Kennet said. “They were in their chambers together getting ready for bed when she went for a swim.”
“Or at least that’s what he told you.” Tove looked up from the report, fixing his mossy green eyes sharply on Kennet.
Kennet met his gaze evenly and replied, “Yes. That is what he told me.”
“This must be a terrible hardship for the King,” Bain said, rushing to soften his companion’s veiled accusation. “How is he holding up?”
Tove set down the file and moved on to rummaging through the rest of the papers. I’d turned to face Kennet, wanting to see his reaction about his brother, but I kept half an eye on Tove.
“He’s very broken up about it,” Kennet said.
“Will we be able to speak with him again?” I asked. “I think it would be a great help to get more details from him directly.”
“Perhaps later on this evening.” Kennet appeared regretful. “But you saw him this morning. You know he’s in no condition to see anyone.”
“We understand,” I said. “But you will let us know when he’s feeling better?”
Kennet smiled easily. “Of course.”
“There’s at least a hundred rooms in here,” Tove announced. He stood hunched over the blueprints for the palace. “Are they all occupied? How many people live here?”
“Storvatten is a very small town, so many of the Markis and Marksinna are invited to live in the palace with us,” Kennet explained. “At the present time, there are seventy-eight royal members living here, not including servants.”
“There’s not enough time to interview them all,” Tove mumbled.
“On a related note, who exactly can we interview?” Ridley asked, doing his best not to sound harsh. “The King and the guards are off the table, which is disappointing, since they’re the closest thing we have to eyewitnesses.”