She trailed her fingers along the western wall, which radiated heat from the midmorning sun. “I am investigating everyone.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Guards and servants paused to watch them pass by. A few guards even openly sneered. Bri gave one a wink and chuckled when his sneer deepened.

“Who do you think was behind this, if you’re so certain it wasn’t her?” Bri asked, ducking around a large planter of white flowers.

“I think Darrow has a part in this,” Carys said. “He’s defensive and angry, not how you’d expect someone in mourning to be.”

“Is that not how they mourn in the South?” Bri cut her a glance. “Not everyone dabs their eyes with handkerchiefs when someone dies. His Queen was killed.”

“So you don’t think he’s suspicious for acting gruff and standoffish?” Carys asked, looking at Bri sideways as she narrowly avoided a servant holding a basket of oranges. “But softhearted Saika is?”

Two kitchen staff clad in green aprons approached, carrying heavy trays of cutlery. The taller one stopped, her eyes widening at Bri, and Bri realized she recognized her: Terez—the food taster from her first night in Swifthill. Silvie stood beside her, her brows knitting in confusion. Bri wasn’t the human they’d met in the tavern anymore, but she probably looked similar enough to spark some recognition. She watched as it dawned on them all at once that they had spent the night dancing with none other than Briata Catullus. Bri flashed them a grin and kept walking, hearing the two tittering as they walked away.

Carys snickered. “I don’t want to know.”

They reached the side door to the grand hall and Bri lowered her voice. “I still think it’s worth talking to everyone who was here the night of the Queen’s murder.”

“The assassins are probably long gone and their poisons with them,” Carys whispered as Bri placed her hand on the handle. “They wouldn’t stick around to be found out.”

Bri’s hand stilled as she looked back over her shoulder at Carys. “They would if they haven’t finished the job.”

Carys’s lips thinned as Bri cracked open the door and they slid in behind the gathering crowd of courtiers and guards. They pushed into the throng, leaning until they spotted Lina upon the dais.

Once again, Airev was transformed into a goddess on her throne. She wore a patterned bronze and gold dress that hugged her figure, the thin fabric pooling around her sandaled feet. A beaded chest plate draped over her large bosom and down to her belly and hips. She wore golden cuffs on her arms and bronze metallic paint highlighted her eyes, making her dark skin shimmer with iridescence.

“Holy Gods,” Bri breathed, her hands clenching at her sides.

Carys produced a handkerchief from her pocket with a flourish. “For the drool.”

“Shut it,” Bri snapped, watching Lina preside over the gathering.

The Princess sat rod straight, no flicker of mischief on her face, though Bri knew it lay just below the surface. She seemed a dutiful ruler in that moment, not a rogue Princess, as she listened to a human airing his grievances.