One of the Queen’s knights, with great presence of mind, had picked up the goblet from the floor and secreted it inside a chest in his room. He had later presented it to the king, who gave it to the royal physician, who performed his tests and stated that, in his expert opinion, the wine had been poisoned. Now, Evelina faced the very real possibility of being hanged.

Yet, she kept her head high as she listened to the prosecuting lawyer recount the evidence before the king.

“Your Majesty, you have heard three witnesses here swear under oath that they saw Mistress Evelina pour the wine from the pitcher into three goblets—one which she gave to Her Majesty, one which she kept for herself, and one which she gave to the Lady Izabelle,” the lawyer related, his tone stern and cold.

“According to these men, no one touched the goblets other than Mistress Evelina. You have heard the testimony of the herbalist who has identified Mistress Evelina as the purchaser of the poison a few days prior to the murder, using this ring”—the lawyer held up a ruby—”to pay for it. The ring has been identified as belonging to one of Her Majesty’s ladies-in-waiting. In addition, we have recovered several other valuables that had gone missing in the young woman’s room.”

Evelina remained defiant, a faint smile of disdain on her lips. Her attitude appeared to exasperate the King. Edward’s expression hardened.

The lawyer held up an object.

“We also found there a half-filled vial containing more poison secreted beneath her mattress.”

That was foolish, Evelina admitted. She should have thrown it out. The dream of feeding it to Axe-Face had been too dear to let go. The lawyer was still talking. Evelina stifled a yawn.

The lawyer called for Gunderson to take the stand.

The elderly retainer limped forward.

“Tell us, Master Gunderson, what you discovered about Mistress Evelina’s background.”

“She is the daughter of a petty thief and pickpocket known as Ramone, last seen leaving the city of Fairefield in company with a troupe of ne’er-do-well actors under the leadership of a scoundrel called Glimmershanks. This troupe and the young woman’s father have since disappeared.”

Evelina clenched her jaw and stood unmoving.

Gunderson sighed and rubbed his chin. “There is no doubt, Your Majesty, that the prince’s . . . er . . . half brother knows the truth about this young woman and how she happened to be in Dragonkeep, but Ven refused to answer any of my questions, saying only that he was at fault for what had happened to her and he would not say anything against her.”

Evelina tapped her foot, waiting impatiently for her chance to speak.

Gunderson bowed and stepped back.