After our light lunch, Emilienne says, “Would anyone want to accompany me on a walk?”
Violette nods, “I would love to. Admira?”
I smile. “That sounds lovely.”
We rise and politely request that our ladies in waiting would give us some privacy. We slip out into the corridors, to the courtyard where Evette was murdered. It’s deserted, except for a few guards. Either everyone is prohibited from entering or too frightened to venture in.
The guards don’t stop us from exploring the courtyard. They must assume that if we’ve gotten this far, we must be allowed inside. Besides, they don’t have the power to stop us unless it’s a written command from William himself.
We walk to where Evette’s body had lain the night before. Somebody has tried to scrub away the blood, but patches are still crusted in the cracks of the cobblestone.
Emilienne crouches next to it, “Why would someone do this inside the castle walls and double the risk of the crime?”
Violette shrugs, “The only reason they would do it here was if this was the only place they saw Evette. As a servant, it’s likely that she goes home once a week to visit with family, and the rest of the time she lives in the servants’ quarters. ”
If William, or anyone, murdered Evette as part of the contest, they’d have to do it within the castle walls. If someone is murdered outside of the castle walls, we rarely hear about it.
There are plenty of other people that could have killed Evette. Maybe there was a dangerous romance between her and another servant or guard and it came to a violent end. Maybe she had been bickering with another servant and someone took the disagreement too far. Maybe it was an accident, and whoever did it is too afraid to come forward. I also can’t forget the possibility that she took her own life.
My thoughts flash back to her still corpse of last night. She was unharmed except for a single cut in her neck. Anything could have been used to kill her. A knife. A sharp rock. A knitting needle.
Now that we are here, our little plan of investigation seems foolish. We don’t know what we’re looking for or how to find it. We are just as unqualified as William to be investigators.
“Do you think her death was instantaneous?” Violette asks.
“I don’t think so,” I say. “I think she bled to death from the cut on her neck. I didn’t see any other marks on her. Unless there was another hidden wound.”
“If she bled to death, why didn’t she call for help?” Emilienne stares at the darkened stones.
A deep voice answers Emilienne’s question from across the courtyard. “Maybe she was too weak. She might have called out and no one heard her.”
My head snaps up. A young man with his hands crossed over his chest stands on the other side of the courtyard. When he sees he’s got our attention, he strolls over and bows. “I’m the official investigator of this servant’s death.”
We wordlessly curtsy in return. So William did hire someone besides himself to investigate.
The investigator’s cold green eyes fix on the blood stains. “This is the first time I’ve ever looked into a servant’s death. You must know how it normally is in other kingdoms. The bodies are shipped quietly away and people rarely hear about it. I understand that a death within the castle walls is not a normal thing here?”
Emilienne raises her chin in pride. “We are one of the safest castles in the world. No one’s been killed for centuries. You must understand how a sudden murder concerns all of us, especially when no explanation can be made.”
“Of course. I can see how it’s very troublesome indeed. Rest assured that every precaution is being taken.” The investigator smiles at us, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Thank you,” Violette says. “We must be going. Good luck with the investigation.”
“I’ll do my best. Anything to keep the royalty safe.” He bows his head.
We stride from the courtyard, as fast as we can without seeming intimidated. As Emilienne pulls the door open, he calls out, “And your majesties?”
We turn, waiting to hear what he has to say. “This will be your last visit to the courtyard until the investigation is over.”
We hastily nod and hurry inside to the safety of the corridor.
“So, is that it then?” Violette asks, “How can we investigate if we aren’t allowed to go to that courtyard? We were there for less than five minutes and he showed up.”
“We are princesses, and within two months one of us is going to be queen. Why does this investigator think he can tell us what to do?” A sliver of arrogance slips into Emilienne’s tone.
I say, “Maybe he doesn’t have authority over us, but William would definitely side with him.”
“I’m sure he’s just trying to protect us.” Violette says.
Emilienne shrugs, “Even if he is, I still need to know who caused Evette’s fate and why. I don’t know if I’ll be able to relax until I do. I don’t know how we can learn any more information, though, if we can’t go back into the courtyard.”
I say, “There’s power in unity. We can return to the courtyard if we choose to. William can’t afford to severely punish all of us and he can’t punish just one of us, so he’ll have to punish none of us.” I say.
“We should talk to some of the servants who knew Evette. Perhaps maybe our ladies in waiting knew Evette, or at least who was acquainted with her well. Maybe they know something about her that they’re too afraid to tell the investigator. You know how they protect each other. We might be able to get them to open up and learn more about Evette.” Emilienne adds.
“But William can’t know.” Violette says.
“Of course. I’ll talk with Alexanne if she’s feeling better, and see if she wants to come along. I need to get back to the Sitting Room. My tutor is going to be waiting for me and I haven’t read the poetry book he assigned.” I begin to walk away, but Violette stops me.
“Wait, you have to come with Emilienne and me. We’re going to check on the cylinders in the Royal Gallery.”
I press my lips together, and then shrug. “Fine. I’m already late and my tutor’s been disappointed in me for a while now. What does a few more minutes mean?”
Violette laughs, “That’s the right attitude to have.”
“Isn’t it?” I grin and step into the Royal Gallery.
Our light mood shifts when we see the clear, glass cylinders. Alexanne has five glass cubes. Violette and Emilienne have four. I only have two.
Violette asks. “How are we gaining cubes? We haven’t done anything.”
“William must be counting the things we do correctly and incorrectly, or the times we obey him and disobey him.” Emilienne traces her finger over the fancy scrawl of her name embedded into the glass vial.
“So every single thing we do counts?” I frown. He’s already judged at least five things that we’ve done since last night.
“Can you lose cubes?” I ask.
“Maybe we have, and we haven’t been checking them often enough to tell. So…the princess with the most cubes at the end becomes queen?”
Is that all there is to the contest? Will we ever know what we are being judged on? I’m already behind. What have I done that’s put me behind everyone else? Alexanne has been lying sick in bed all day and she somehow manages to have five cubes.
I swallow hard. “My tutor is going to be livid by now. I really have to be going. We need to meet together as soon as possible to question the servants who knew Evette? Maybe after supper?”
“That’s sounds perfect. Good luck with your tutor.” Violette waves goodbye.
I stumble through the halls, trying to keep my hands from shaking.
I push open the door to my room. Grace patiently waits inside, music dancing from her viola. She curtsies when she sees me, “Did you have a good time, with…aren’t you supposed to be with your tutor?”
I hadn’t told Grace what I was doing with Violette and Emilienne. I feel guilty for not explaining what was going on, but Violette and Emilienne aren’t telling their ladies in waiting either. With fewer people knowing, it’s less likely we’ll get caught. We can’t risk something it with the competition.
I smile halfheartedly, “It was okay, but now I have to go to my tutor, who I’m sure will yell at me for being late yet again. Will you come with me?”
“Of course, my lady. Do you need your poetry book?”
“Yes, I was supposed to read that…”
“Don’t worry, I read it while I was in the Sitting Room with Violette. I’ll help you.”
On the way to my tutor’s study, Violette fills me on the poems. I can pretend to have at least scanned the poetry. Memorizing the entire book wouldn’t be enough for my tutor.
Grace pushes open the doors to his study and I force an apologetic smile. My tutor, Augustine, paces angrily inside. His white hair bounces behind him as he spins to yell at me.
“Admira? Where were you? We were supposed to meet over half an hour ago.” His anger creases his forehead, adding more wrinkles than he already has.
I drop into a curtsy, “My greatest apologies. I was held up with a meeting with my sisters and I—”
“A meeting with your sisters? I’m sure you accomplished great advancements there. What did you discuss?”
I’m silent. I can’t tell him what we were actually doing.
“Would you like me to give you some suggestions for what you might have been doing at that so very important meeting? Maybe you were discussing the latest fashion? Maybe you were analyzing and complaining about your latest meal? Perhaps you were considering what new and expensive decoration you can add to your rooms? Or maybe—”
I offer him another curtsy. “I understand that I’m late and I’m terribly sorry. I will be sure to reach my lessons on time from now on.”
“I’m afraid you’ve taught me not to trust what you say. I’ll believe it only when I see it.”
If I told him the truth about what we were doing, he’d probably think I’m childish. He’d claim that I was ‘playing pretend’ by trying to inspect it myself. He’d say that I should leave the investigating up to William. He’d raise a bushy eyebrow, frown at me, and state that my only job was to learn.
He sees the poetry book clutched between my fingers. “I assume you read this?”
“Of course,” I lie.
It’s not that I hate poetry or don’t like learning in general. Augustine insults everything I say, tearing apart every attempt I make at an answer. Even if it’s right.
“What did you think of the narrator?”
I rack my brain for everything that Grace told me. It was a girl who…
“I thought she was very smart for her age.”
“For her age? How old was the narrator, Admira?” He squints at me, waiting for me to say the wrong answer.
I smooth out the wrinkles on my dress, trying to be vague enough to pass, “I thought she was too young for what life had given her.”
“Interesting theory. Now what was her exact age?”
I open my mouth, but I can’t remember anything that Grace said. I try to steal a glance to Grace for help, but Augustine catches me.
“Just what I thought. You didn’t read it. I’ll be talking to William about this. If you want to be queen, you have to be educated. Let’s talk about the music you were supposed to study for today. You studied that, didn’t you?”
“Of course,” I lie.