The trials went on for hours. The nobles left the room in dribs and drabs until only a couple remained. Madeleine stayed through the entire thing, her hands settled carefully in her lap, and Fitzroy stayed, too. I tried not to look at him. My conversation with Naomi was still too fresh, and I felt a jolt of uncertainty every time he caught my eye. I had enough to think about, with the parade of cases presented to me.
Norling was the chief of justice, and she was the one responsible for making decisions, but the word of a queen could always overrule her, and I wanted to be certain that everything was fair. I had the power to dole out justice, or to destroy someone’s life, and I wanted to do the best that I could. I wanted to do better than my best.
But hours of speaking to people, of being watched and measured, left me feeling scraped raw inside, too tired to think. The moment the trials ended, I hurried away with my guards, avoiding Fitzroy’s gaze again.
I’d been fascinated by the fake diamonds, the way the light shifted and changed color inside them. I’d always heard that those colors were part of diamonds’ hearts, but if a mixture of glass and lead could have the same effect, perhaps there was more to it. I’d asked that they be sent to my laboratory, and they were waiting on the center table when I returned. I picked one up and watched the colors again. Was it something to do with the light?
I lit a candle and held the jewel up to the flame. Again, the colors shifted inside. I’d left a piece of paper on the table, and the colors danced there as well, forming a rainbow.
I looked across at my supplies on the other side of the room, and then stopped. Something was wrong. I’d organized my metals in order of reactivity, to make my experiments easier, with the uncertain and untested ones in alphabetical order at the end. Now they were out of place. Mostly the same, but a few jumbled or reversed.
Someone had been in here.
It could have been Fitzroy. Naomi knew to keep things organized in the lab, but Fitzroy might not have known the system. Yet the hairs on my arm stood on end. I knew, knew, something was wrong.
I hurried over and inspected the jars. Nothing was missing, as far as I could tell. But someone had been looking for something—
I seized the jar of arsenic. It looked the same, though. That was good. No one had taken any.
Why hadn’t I been locking the door? I’d trusted that no one would really care to interrupt me here, but I should have realized the risk the moment Fitzroy first appeared. These chemicals should be locked away.
The door creaked. I spun around, but it was just Naomi, peering into the gloom.
“Freya? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Are you all right?”
She nodded. Then she glanced at the jars scattered across the countertop. “What are you doing? You’d glare at me if I made a mess like that.”
“So you haven’t been here today? Reorganizing these?”
“No. I wouldn’t touch them, you know that. Maybe Fitzroy was here?”
“Yes,” I said. “Maybe.” But I didn’t quite believe it.
Naomi sat on the stool and pulled my notes toward her. “I think we need to get started on talking to more people,” she said. “Now that the Gustavites and Fitzroy are off our list. Fitzroy is off our list, isn’t he?”
I nodded.
“Sten acted so strangely at the trials. I know he lost his friends, but—he’s acting oddly. One of us should really speak to him.”
“And you think he’ll tell me anything, after that?”
Naomi shrugged. “He might. If you’re direct with him. Or I could try and speak with him.”
“Somehow,” I said, “I doubt most people will be as willing to spill their secrets as Fitzroy was.”
“He spilled all his secrets, did he?” Naomi said, giving me a slight sideways grin.
“Shush, you.” I joined her by the notes. “I suppose you’re right, though. My advisers haven’t found any more evidence or linked it to anyone. It feels like it has to be someone here. Sten must have seen something.”
“Can we find out who ordered the cake?” Naomi asked. “I know sometimes people would pay for particular dishes. As a gift to the king. If we knew who it was—”
“It was my father.” We both jumped. Fitzroy stood in the doorway. “Your guards let me pass,” he said, in answer to my unspoken question. “Since they see me so often here, anyway.”
“So much for security.” I stared at him. He hadn’t heard what we’d said before, Naomi’s jokes, had he? “What was your father?”
“He was the one who arranged that cake. Do you think anyone else could afford it? That’s why it was such an insult when I didn’t get any. It was for people he liked only. Or at least people he didn’t despise.”
“He did always like spectacle,” Naomi said.
“But he usually preferred to live to appreciate it.” I bit my lip. “If there were any official records, my advisers would have gone through them already.” Assuming they could be trusted.
“They won’t have everything,” Fitzroy said. “My father always locked his study, and that’s where he kept everything not entirely official. Personal letters, notes he was working on, things like that.”
“And I suppose you know where to find the key?”
He smiled. “Of course. It was my father’s secret study. I’m an expert at breaking in.”
“Who knew you had a history of crime?”
“Freya, there’s so much you don’t know about me.”
Naomi grinned at me, and I quickly looked away. “So we should go,” I said, all businesslike. “See what we can find there.”
“Your guards aren’t going to let you just wander back to the palace alone,” Fitzroy said. “I’ll go. No one cares if I leave the Fort. I’ll collect everything I can find and bring it back to the lab.”
It made sense. I didn’t like it—staying here, waiting for someone else to bring information to me—but it made sense. “Good idea. Bring it back here, and we’ll figure out what to do.”
EIGHTEEN
I COULDN’T BREATHE. SOMETHING WAS PRESSING against my mouth, cutting off the air.
I jerked awake. A small shape loomed over me in the dark.
I tried to scream, but the sound was swallowed by the figure’s hand, the cold rings pressing against my lips. The figure leaned closer, honey-brown hair catching the moonlight.
It was Madeleine Wolff.
“Shh.” She glanced at the doorway. “You have to leave. Quickly. I’m going to move my hand now, but you can’t make a sound.” She took her hand away, and I scrambled out of bed, feet landing hard on the floor.
“Madeleine,” I hissed. “What’s going on?”
“You’re being attacked. I don’t know how much time you have, but you have to hide. Or run. Get out of here.”
I froze. “Who’s attacking?”
“My cousin. And his supporters. I managed to lie my way past your guards by pretending I was involved, but they’re in on it, too, and they won’t wait long. You have to move now.”
I stared at her, fighting to understand. My mind was still fuzzy with sleep, and—Sten was attacking me? “Why did you come to warn me?” I said. “Why didn’t you fetch more guards?”
“Because I don’t know where they are, and I don’t know which ones you can trust. Freya, that doesn’t matter. We have to leave.”