I catch Sigvard in the foyer when I return shifting aimlessly between his feet. The servants that pass by—it's impossible to go two steps without seeing at least one on a mission these days—pay him little mind. I peel myself from Prince Friedrich and cut off his monologue on the Pelican War to thank him for the afternoon. Then, I hurry to Sigvard.

"Where's Benno?" I ask.

"Family business," Sigvard says. He glances at Prince Friedrich who looks rather lost by the heavy double doors. "Upstairs?"

"Sure."

The Salon of the West Wing is empty, so we each take a divan. Relief runs from my heel to my toes. I barely noticed the building ache that comes with walking around town for so long. The stone ground delivers a beating, especially when I wear thin slippers.

"Dinner's in ten minutes," Sigvard says. "We have to compare notes fast."

"Compare? Did you find out anything?"

"Yeah. But you first."

I prop my feet on the coffee table, flexing them to feel a stretch. "It couldn't have been the silk scarf. Silk will absorb the poison, potentially delivering a fatal dose to anyone else that touches it."

"Oh." Sigvard sinks into the cushions. "There goes that."

"But it can be cleaned off a non-absorbent surface, like leather."

"Leather." Sigvard settles his chin on his hand to think. Then, his eyes light up. "Wait, wasn't the finance log leather?"

"You're right!" It completely slipped my mind. "That would explain why it went missing from the Royal Study. And when I went in there that night, I remember it being shiny. But when we found it, the leather was dull, same as the other ledgers I've been studying for Lady Nyoko."

"But why was it in the couch cushions?" Sigvard asks. "If the person could get into the study using the secret passage, then why not do it again to return the ledger?"

"The culprit couldn't because it was off limits. Maybe they were in a panic, needed to stash it somewhere, and couldn't return to it before I found it."

"We need to make a timeline." Sigvard paces around the room in search of paper and a writing utensil. He finds both in the drawer of a side table and returns to the edge of his seat. "So, when was the poison planted in the study?"

"It had to be recent, otherwise someone else might've touched the ledger before the king. And death after touching it occurs quickly and painfully. I'd say

The pen freezes in its scratch marks. "How quickly and how painfully?"

"Three to five minutes. And it creates a burning sensation on whatever it touches."

"Enough for Father to cry out?" Sigvard asks.

"I...don't know. Maybe."

"So Father yells," Sigvard continues, "the guards rush in, and Father dies. Then what? The Royal Study and Wing are now off limits. No one goes in or out."

"Right," I say, trying to follow his reasoning.

"So how does the ledger leave the study? It doesn't sound like there's enough time unless the murderer had access to the study after Father's death."

I'm silent for a couple beats. The Grandfather clock ticks down our last moments until dinner.

"Let's go back further," I suggest. "We can puzzle the ledger's removal out later. When was the poison placed inside the study?"

"Probably that day." Sigvard's face falls into a scowl. "Clemaina could've done it. She was the last person to see him alive."

"Or someone could've slipped in during the festival, while everyone was distracted," I suggest.

Faint footsteps patter, growing stronger as they approach. I crane my neck and spot Wolfgang rising up the stairs, heading toward us.

"What did you find out?" I hiss.

"Benno and I snuck back into the records room and—"

"Princess Aylo and Prince Sigvard," Wolfgang says, stepping into the room. "It is time for dinner."

"Coming," I say. Wolfgang and I enter a standoff, where I remain seated and he doesn't budge from the doorway. Sigvard ends up stirring first, and I reluctantly follow. We keep our distance from Wolfgang long enough to finish our conversation in whispers.

"Duchess Helda headed Odeia's investigation," Sigvard says.

Interesting. She was a kind, motherly member of the king's council. I haven't seen her much since she retired, replaced by Duchess Frieza. Father always seeked a balance on his advisory council, so he always had four members, Uncle Rothbart, the executive advisor, Duchess Tolmeizer, and Duke Von Stein.

"Do you think she'd talk?" I ask.

"Probably not, but it's worth a try," Sigvard whispers back.

Wolfgang's head twists to the side, not enough to see us, but it hints that he might be listening. Sigvard and I close the widening gap between us and our butler and don't dare speak another word about Duchess Helda, poisons, or sneaking into the record room.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☀. :☆ﾟ｡･ ───

The next afternoon, I venture into the residential wing on the third floor, where Duchess Helda stays. Though retired, she remained in the palace in exchange for her many years of service to the king. She opens the door after several knocks.

"Oh, Princess Aylo," Duchess Helda says in her soft voice. A smile stretches across her face. Though the wrinkles in her dark skin announce her age and a cane supports her, she stands to her full height with perfect posture, the kind that forms after years in the royal court. Her normally crimped hair is woven into a thick, ebony braid that reaches her hips. "Come in, come in."

I enter the Duchess' neat room—her bookshelves arranged by color and height, the papers on her desk in neat stacks, the pens in a glass container all pointing the same way. She still pays the same attention to detail she uses with all things. That trait always made her one of the most meticulous and effective people on Father's advisory council, not to mention the royal court as a whole. My father faced a difficult challenge when she retired as he tried to find someone good enough to replace her, but Duchess Frieza certainly was the best candidate for the job.

"To what do I owe the honor of such a visit?" Duchess Hilda asks. "Would you like some tea?"

"No, thank you. I know this is rather unconventional and perhaps a bit strange, but I wanted to know a few things."

"About?"

"Odeia."

Duchess Helda sinks into a chair, and the warmth on her face fades. "What about her?"

"I-I just never..." I never figured out how to start this conversation.

Deep brown eyes regard me for a moment. Then the duchess sighs and says, "You never fully understood why?"

"Yes." I sit on the chair beside her. A long pause ensues.

"I have no reason to agree with you," Duchess Helda begins. "After all, I headed the investigation into Odeia. But her conviction still bothers me." She pauses and reaches for a tea cup on the table beside her. "I really should not tell you this, but I never believed Odeia killed Queen Dianne. But try as I might, I couldn't find the evidence to suggest someone else."

"Then why arrest her?" I ask.

Duchess Helda sips her tea, which I'm sure is lukewarm at best. "I really should not reveal this, but if I don't, I fear it will be buried with me. Do you promise not to breathe a word to anyone?" I nod emphatically, sliding to the edge of the maroon cushion under me. "Truth be told, the people were riled up over Queen Diane's death. Your mother was a wonderful queen, and an even better woman."

My nose tingles, the beginnings of tears in my eyes.

"She did so much for the people," Duchess Helda says after another spot of tea. "You remember the way she coordinated efforts to build homes for the poor, improve the education in orphanages and schools. She helped the farmers who lost their crop and expanded on Queen Xenia's efforts to increase healthcare and career opportunities for the ill and disabled. Queen Dianne went beyond her responsibility, similar to Queen Xenia. Though your mother focused more on humanitarian efforts, while Queen Xenia focused more on bringing joy to the kingdom through festivals and the like."

"The point is that when Queen Dianne died, the people were distraught. And then some newspaper published an article that Odeia killed her. Grief turned to fury, and if we didn't arrest Odeia or find a suitable replacement, we faced mobs across the kingdom. Time was running short, so we convicted your half-sister and sentenced her to life in prison." Duchess Helda settles her jaw. Clearly, she's done with her story.

"Odeia was a scapegoat," I whisper.

"Yes," the duchess says. "Though it never should have ended up that way. Odeia would have been one of the finest rulers in the kingdom. She has a brilliant mind."

"Has?" I say. "As in, right now?"

Slowly, Duchess Helda exhales. "I did say that, didn't I?" Her gaze drops to her tea cup.

"Odeia is still alive, isn't she?" I hope I don't prod too deep, go too far with my questions. But I have to find out what she knows. She could lead us to 'E.'

"That's where the story gets...interesting," Duchess Helda hedges. "You are correct. Somehow, she escaped, though we still don't know how. But she got out, so we pretended she died to avoid an uprising. We claimed she was executed to explain her disappearance."

"You didn't plan to sentence her to death?" I ask, mind-blown.

"No matter what the circumstances may be, we couldn't have her blood on her hands, not unless we were sure of her guilt."

Duchess Helda sets her tea cup aside. I'm sure she wishes to do the same with our conversation, but I have just a few more questions.

"Are the people riled up now that Father has died?"

"No." Her brown eyes narrow. "Why would they be? The reason it happened before was because they found it was a murder. In times of distress, people always want someone to blame. But if a death is due to natural causes, there is no one to blame. Thus, they can only be angry at fate."

I think she suspects something, but the warning in her tone makes it clear that she won't discuss it.

"Do you know who's responsible for connecting Odeia with Queen Dianne's murder?" I ask.

"It's one of those things that one person starts, and everyone else jumps on board. However, we are certain that someone tipped off all these reporters."

"How?"

"Each one we spoke to told us that they received a letter in the mail detailing Odeia's crimes. It was much of the evidence being evaluated by the royal court. We suspect a servant eavesdropped on the proceedings, then sent in the information."

Unless the person already knew quite a bit about the case already, like Evlyn.

"The odd part, though," Duchess Helda continues, "Is that no money was requested in the letter. Usually in these cases, the informant is looking for payment."

"Their goal wasn't money," I say. It was to ensure that Odeia was convicted before the true evidence could come out. "But the evidence doesn't make sense. Didn't you realize it was impossible for the poison to be in the chocolates?"

"What makes you so sure? What do you know about poisons?" Duchess Helda throws questions right back at me. I pause, treading carefully to not get in trouble.

"I...was curious so I read a little bit about them."

"I see. Yes, it is true that poisoned chocolates are a difficult feat under the circumstances. But where else could it have been?"

"The tea."

"You have read more than a little, Aylo," Duchess Helda says with a knowing glint. "But not enough. Attsed is a poor solvent and most likely would precipitate out of the tea. Neither Evlyn nor the maids who cleaned her tea cup noticed such."

"They could've forgotten. That makes more sense than it being in the chocolates."

"Perhaps." Duchess Helda yawns. "Is this all, Aylo?"

"Yes," I say, standing. I start for the door, then stop. "You know, if Mother had been poisoned in the afternoon, it wouldn't make sense for her to have a headache at dinner since attsed is a painkiller."

I catch a shimmer in Duchess Helda's eyes. "That's only one of many inconsistencies in the case against Odeia."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☀. :☆ﾟ｡･ ───

"And the square root of eighty equals four root five, proving that the equation was balanced after all. Thus, the sixty-fourth galaxy can support more than one-hundred billion stars." Prince Cade scoops a forkful of spinach into his mouth. I notice that throughout breakfast, he's favored the soft vegetables, grits, and yogurt on his plate over the sausage and toast, facilitating his incessant mathematical ramblings. I wonder if Clemaina and Sigvard were notified that he'd join us for breakfast this morning, and that's why neither are here.

Leaving me to fend for my sanity on my own. I gulp down sweet tea to dilute my bitterness. I almost wish for my lessons to resume. At least it contains math I understand.

"Aylo!"

I nearly melt, like the ice in my water, from relief. Sigvard plops into the seat beside me, and Benno across from him. The two princes nod in acknowledgement, but Prince Cade doesn't continue his astronomical musings. Instead, he bites into a thick slab of toast.

"I have more news," Sigvard murmurs as the servants bring out his and Benno's breakfast platters.

"Me too." I eat a single blueberry, prolonging my meal now in hopes that we'll get a chance to talk.

Fortunately, Prince Cade stands. "Well, I must be off. It was lovely meeting you this morning."

"You as well. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay here." Internally, I hope his stay is very short. Prince Cade bows before leaving. He gets a couple extra points for not kissing my hand.

"Benno found out who supposedly sold the poison to Odeia," Sigvard whispers between bites of grits. "It was the Tharborts."

My spoon clatters to my bowl. "Tharbort, as in Duke Sewale Tharbort, Clemaina's fiancee, soon to become king?"

"His parents are mediciners," Sigvard continues.

"I would've never guessed. Though it could make sense, as it gives him an advantage with, well, you know what."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Sigvard says. "That means he had access to whatever poisons and potions they had on hand. I always had a bad feeling about him."

"Same." I eat the remaining end of sausage rations on my plate, eyeing the four untouched ones on Prince Cade's. "He could've poisoned our mother and framed Odeia to get her out of the way, knowing he had a straight path to the crown through Clemaina."

"And he could've passed by Mother's room and dropped the poison in her tea while no one was looking," Sigvard finishes. He swallows a dollop of yogurt. "It probably isn't possible to find out what he was doing that night all these years later, right?" I stare at Sigvard, and he wriggles in his seat. "I'm not going to ask him. I refuse to talk to him."

"Would you please? You're the only one who can. It's far less weird if you strike up a conversation. You could pretend that you just want to talk about military stuff or something."

"No."

"I can't get into a conversation with him," I say.

"Well neither can I." We both look at Benno.

"Who, me?" Benno chuckles. "I'd be most suspicious of all. Not sure if I've spoken a word to him before."

I sigh. "Ugh, fine. If none of you will do it, then I'll figure out a way."

A maid enters the room and removes Prince Cade's plate. We make eye contact with our plates, though none of us dare disturb the sudden silence. Her steps aren't quick enough while leaving us.

"What did you find out from Duchess Helda?" Sigvard whispers once she's gone.

"The reason why they arrested Odeia was because there was pressure from the Saursi citizens. Someone leaked to the newspapers that Odeia killed Queen Dianne, and there was a threat of mobs rising up. There wasn't enough evidence to point to another person, so the royal court felt it was best to incriminate Odeia."

"But Odeia was innocent. How could they—"

"She was never to be sentenced to death," I say. "She would've been locked up in prison if she hadn't escaped. Though perhaps it worked out for the best that people think she's dead. Imagine someone sneaking poison into her food, disposing of the true heir once and for all."

Shoes click around the corner, and I clamp my mouth shut just as Lady Nyoko strides from the hall.

"Princess Aylo, are you done with your breakfast?" she asks. Her hair falls in silky, black waves around her shoulders. She's the model of effortless style, of perfect appearances yet substance. In my head, I thank Uncle Rothbart again for switching my etiquette lessons to Lady Nyoko.

"Yes," I say. Sigvard rises from his seat with me. As we walk behind Lady Nyoko, he leans over and asks,

"Are we seeing Odeia tonight?"

I almost forgot. Thank goodness he remembered, otherwise we would've stood Odeia up. I nod vigorously before turning into my lesson room. He already knows where to meet. A spark of excitement quickens my step, brightens my smile. Odeia can't say no to coming to the ball, not now that it's a costume gala.