Wren wanted to feel triumphant. She wanted to feel vindicated. She was another step closer to answers. Another step closer to finding out what had happened to Byers. But all she felt was dread. Maybe oblivion was better, safer. But it was too late to turn back now. Dust swirled around them like smoke.

“Open it,” she said.

Will took the crowbar mounted on the wall and wedged it carefully beneath the lid of the box.

“There,” he said sullenly, once it was open. “Is that what you’re looking for?”

Drawing in a deep breath, she lifted the lid. Inside were petals in every blinding shade of deep purple and blue, swirled like a winter sky. Goddessblood. In that one crate, there was more than enough to sicken six soldiers and Colwick Hall’s entire staff.

“It’s not enough to make a case.”

Hal tossed the shipment records onto the low coffee table, startling her enough that she dropped her knife—Hal’s knife, really, that she’d borrowed without his permission. She was kneeling on the floor of their room next to the cast-iron radiator—an invention she’d wished she’d known about last night—basking in the heat and slicing apples to keep herself busy.

After escorting them out of the shipment room, Will had begged them again not to tell his parents. He had even pilfered some apples from the kitchen to secure their silence. It was a small, simple thing—but it delighted her. After eating nothing but rich food and gamey meats for two weeks in Colwick Hall, she’d desperately missed fruit.

Wren picked up the knife again. Juice dripped from its edge, warm as nectar in the firelight. Hal sat in an armchair beside her, his legs stretched long and crossed at the ankles. Limned in the golden glow of the hearth, he was the picture of contemplation, and Wren wanted to slice him in two with frustration.

“What do you mean it’s not enough? That”—she gestured to the files with the blade—“is concrete proof. Will’s existence proves there’s a connection between Lowry and the Danubian soldiers. And these records prove he had poison delivered to his door!”

“Since we can’t bring Will with us, we have no story but a nobleman with a taste for the macabre. There’s evidence enough already to corroborate that.” He took a sip from his mug of tea. “We need a victim. Or a witness.”

“I have you, don’t I?”

“You do.” The significant look he gave her sent her heart racing. “While Vesria may accept my testimony, Danu certainly won’t. We need a Danubian to present a compelling case to the queen.”