Thank you for your offer of help, but I’m certain we’ll put this to rest quickly, so long as we can give it our full attention.
Your friend,
Kallias
Who in the world would steal and then not keep the riches for themselves? That’s just bad business. Someone that stupid must surely be caught soon.
Nevertheless, I should be involved in this. The nobles who were robbed will be paying taxes to me in the future. If Kallias doesn’t solve this problem, it will become mine.
But how does one catch a thief who doesn’t retain his finds? That makes it far more difficult to track them down. I will have to think on this. It is a situation that must be handled carefully.
* * *
ANOTHER LETTER ARRIVES SHORTLY THEREAFTER, again from Kallias. He invites me to join him for dinner. Naturally, I accept.
However, I decide to keep him waiting. I don’t want him to think me too eager.
After fifteen minutes pass by, I join the servant waiting outside my rooms. He escorts me to the library once more.
When I enter, a large furry mass darts for me. Demodocus comes to a halt mere inches away. When he sees that he has my full attention, he flops onto the floor, belly up.
“I’m so glad you’re happy to see me,” I say as I lift one foot to rub his belly.
Kallias, who stood at my entrance, says, “You kept him waiting. Belly rubs are the price you must pay.”
“Forgive me, Demodocus,” I say, as I rub my foot into longer strokes. The dog’s eyes lull back into his skull. “I was working on something and didn’t want to leave it unfinished. Are we even now?”
I dare to raise my leg, and the dog rolls over and runs for Kallias’s feet before plopping down in front of him, panting.
Kallias waits for me to sit before picking up his silverware and digging in.
Our supper has already been served. Tonight it’s chicken legs dripping in a brown gravy, peeled vegetables sprinkled with salt, bread sticks dribbled with butter and honey, and chocolate éclairs for dessert, if I’m not mistaken.
“I took the liberty of arranging the first course for you,” he says, indicating the éclair before me. “I suggest you hurry, however, so the rest of the food doesn’t grow cold.”
If he’s irritated by my lateness, he doesn’t show any sign of it. Perhaps it’s only my imagination that the shadows are moving about him more swiftly.
I dip my finger into the whipped cream atop the éclair and bring it to my lips. Forgoing a fork, I grab the delicate pastry in one hand and bite into it. Chocolate fills my mouth. I think to compliment Kallias on his chef, but I’m brought short by the look on his face.
“Something wrong?” I ask, knowing full well he was distracted by the sensual way in which I sampled my food.
He clears his throat and ignores the question. “What were you working on?”
“The first piece of a new outfit,” I say, thinking back to yesterday’s sewing project. “I’m trying out a new style of my own design.”
“Another scandalous piece, I hope?”
I grin. “I hardly see how my pieces are considered scandalous. All my skin is covered up.” More or less. “Not an ankle or wrist to be seen.”
He chews slowly on a bite of chicken as his eyes land on my wrist. “I noticed. Is that for my sake? Or do you prefer to keep your hands covered?”
I look at his own gloved hands. “I certainly don’t mind gloves. They are a fun accessory to any outfit. But since the law forbids us to touch, it seemed wise for me to keep wearing them when we will be spending quite a lot of time together.”
“How very self-preserving of you.”
His expression is unreadable. I can’t tell if he’s toying with me or something else.
Out of curiosity, I ask, “Would you kill me? If I were to touch you?”
He keeps his eyes on me as he takes a swallow from his glass. “Why should you ever need to touch me?”
“It’s not uncommon for friends to touch. Handshakes. Hugs. Playful shoves when one says something irritable. Surely you’ve had friends before? Leandros said you two used to be close.”
He doesn’t answer, turning his gaze to his food. But I am not to be dismissed so easily.
“Surely you didn’t need to push your friends away after you became king? You can’t suspect them of killing your parents, can you?”
“Until my parents’ murderer is rooted out, I trust no one.”
“But what could they possibly gain from such a horrible scheme?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Perhaps they thought they were helping by making me king.”
“If they were truly your friends, they would know you had no desire to see your parents hurt.”
Kallias swallows the food in his mouth and pauses, as if wondering whether to tell me something.
“It’s not the only reason I’ve kept them at bay.”
“What do you mean?”
His eyes meet mine. “It’s one thing to be tracking down the late king and queen’s murderer. It’s another thing entirely to have an assassin after me while trying to root out my parents’ murderer.”
“Someone is trying to kill you?” I ask, surprised. “How do you know?”
He finishes his chicken and starts on a salted cucumber. “They’ve failed once already. Last month, my gloves were laced with a topical poison. When I put them on, my hands felt as though they were on fire. The toxin would have spread to my heart in under a minute, I’m told.”
I eye the hands hidden behind gloves now. “Are you all right? How did you survive?”
“I am not so easy to kill. My shadows saved me.”
I wonder if he also wears his gloves to cover burn marks. Whatever the poison was, it sounds terribly nasty.
“And you think your friends could have had something to do with it?” I ask.
“My friends. The council. Anyone of the nobility. A servant in the palace. It could be anyone. I can’t take any chances.”
I think of Leandros, Petros, and Rhouben. I honestly doubt any of them are capable of murder, especially with the way they look at their once-friend every time Kallias enters a room. They miss him. And what would they have to gain anyway? I suppose Leandros’s uncle is on the council. If there’s no king, Ikaros Vasco will remain in power for far longer. But that doesn’t gain Leandros anything. He can’t obtain the crown. A distant relative of the king would get it first.
And Petros doesn’t strike me as the power-hungry type. I know little of his family, but he can’t have any claim to the throne. Rhouben wants nothing more than to be free of his betrothed, as far as I can tell.
But I say none of this. If the king has already decided not to trust anyone, there’s little I can do to convince him otherwise. And doing so would only put me under suspicion.
“Do you have any ideas as to who’s responsible? Anything more specific than someone currently in the palace?”
Kallias eyes me suspiciously over the rim of his goblet.
“You are my ticket to acknowledgment. Remember? Without you I have nothing. No parties or respect.” Until I can gain the latter on my own, of course. “No one is allowed to kill you on my watch. I want to help.”