“Yes,” he replied tentatively, tilting his head.

“And are there any more Monroes alive?”

“Not that I know of.” He furrowed his brow, looking up to the sky as if trying to recollect. “My mother was the last Monroe in our family. My siblings and I took my father’s surname. Why?”

Bri shrugged. “Just curious.”

She felt Carys’s eyes assessing her. Her friend would know she had more to say, but she’d tell Carys later. Right now, Cole was the closest person tied to the Queen’s murder and she didn’t want him knowing of her suspicion. If he was involved, though, it would have been foolish to so openly admit his connection to the name. . . . Perhaps he was inadvertently connected. If Delta and Saika had taught Bri anything, it was that the Western Court was filled with secrets. She’d keep gently prodding Cole and see if anything came of it.

“How long did it take the soldier to die?” Cole asked, pulling their attention back to him.

“A minute or less.” Bri rubbed her shoulder. “Why?”

“I wonder if his weapon was tipped with a more powerful poison or”—Cole adjusted his spectacles—“or if entering the bloodstream makes the poison work faster.”

“Gods, could you imagine an army with poison-tipped blades?” Carys asked. “It would win any battle.”

“What about an antidote?” Lina asked Cole, the sound of her warm, smooth voice making Bri tense.

“I’ve been experimenting with the residual poisons but have yet to find anything that truly works.” He shook his head. “So far I’ve only found ways to slow the poison’s spread . . . but that would only lead to a slower death.”

“Shit,” Bri growled, kicking at the wet leaves with her boot.

“The ancient covens were ruthless,” Cole said. “They made vicious poisons and forged weapons that could fell entire armies. . . . There’s a reason modern witches decided to leave that dark, ancient magic in the past. No more amulets. No more rings.”

Lina tutted, crossing her arms. “After all that’s happened to witches since the Siege of Yexshire, I don’t blame them for wanting to revive that ancient power again.”

“Most of them can’t,” Cole said, removing his spectacles to rub his eyes. “Most of that ancient magic died hundreds of years ago. I don’t know if any sparks of it live within us anymore. Even if we were able to read the spells, I don’t know if there’s a witch alive who could cast them.”

“Well there’s at least one who can,” Lina muttered.