Bri reached out and hovered her hand over the silverware, feeling the thread of magic in the air. “It’s impossible to say. Your office is filled with your magic.”

“It feels different to me,” Cole murmured.

“I don’t think I can sense the difference between the types of witch magic. It simply feels like magic.” Carys looked around the room. “They probably didn’t even think about it. Probably assumed it was the green witch magic in the cooking.”

“Can brown witches make poisons like this?” Bri nodded toward the silverware.

“We can make all sorts of poisons, though it is highly frowned upon,” Cole said, adjusting his glasses again, though they hadn’t appeared to have slipped down his nose. “My great-great-grandmother was famous for her poisons.” He pointed to a collection of portraits on the dresser behind him. “But I don’t think this is brown witch magic.”

“It can’t be.” Carys’s brows pinched together. “You think it’s violet witch magic?”

Cole crossed his arms, sighing. “I do.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Either they found a way for other witches to wield their magic or the violet coven isn’t as extinct as we all thought.”

“And they’re working with Norwood,” Bri gritted out.

“He is technically still the heir to their kingdom,” Carys said. “Maybe they feel an allegiance to him?”

“It doesn’t make any sense. Why now?” Bri knew she wouldn’t get an answer. She rolled her shoulders. She needed to get into a sparring ring before she punched her fist through the wall. “Right, well, we need to talk to whoever was in charge of shining the silverware.”

“A boy named Francis,” Cole said. “He died that night.”

“You think he was in on it?”

“Why would he set these out otherwise?” Carys gestured to the soapy-looking cutlery. “The guests might not have noticed or cared, but if it was his job to shine the pieces, he would have noticed.”

“We should go talk to his family,” Bri said as Carys nodded. “Thank you for showing us.”

They were halfway out the door when Cole said, “I’m used to treating headaches and sprained ankles. I’m glad someone else is looking into this.”

“We’ll do what we can,” Carys replied, giving him a final bob of her head before she and Bri left and shut the door. They took a few more steps before Carys whispered, “Do you think we can trust him?”

“I don’t think we can trust anyone right now,” Bri muttered. “But I think he’s telling the truth, for what that’s worth. Still, we should keep a close eye on him.”

“We should fae fire the others to let them know.”

“Yeah,” Bri said. “I have a feeling that gloves are going to be in fashion for the foreseeable future.” She thought of that shriveled leaf on the table. The violet witches were back and with a poison that was lethal and hard to detect.

“Why couldn’t this have just been a normal assassination?” Carys said with a groan.