Another one.

He felt a twinge of fear and uncertainty as he reached down to pick it up, knowing right away what it was. Shielding his movements from the guards who stood at watch to either side of the doorway behind him, believing they would never dare to look, but cautious anyhow, he unfolded the paper and read the words printed on it.

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID

He was filled with helpless rage. Who was sending him these notes? Who could possibly have known what had happened in Edinja’s chambers two nights before? No one had seen him come or go; no one but Edinja and her cat had been present. Yet this was the third of these notes in less than two days and still not a clue as to who was sending them.

Or why.

It was this question that bothered him most. Why were these notes being sent? What purpose did they serve? If someone wanted something from him because of what they believed he had done to Edinja, why didn’t that someone tell him what it was?

He turned back to the guards. “Did anyone come to see me while I was gone?” he demanded. “This morning, while I was in Council?”

The guards exchanged a hurried look. “No one, Prime Minister,” one answered.

“You’re quite sure of that?”

“Very sure. We were here all morning, both of us. No one even approached your chambers.”

He turned away and went into his rooms, closing the door behind him. Just like the other times. The notes appeared inside his rooms, but with no evidence of how they had gotten there. If he had not trusted Stoon so completely or had been able to conceive of any advantage the other might gain by doing this, he would have suspected him. After all, Stoon was the only one who had access to his quarters, the only one who could come and go without being seen.

There were the chambermaids, of course, but they had to pass the guards to get in to do their work. Besides, he had questioned them already, a thorough and not entirely pleasant examination that had yielded nothing. The women were dull and frightened, and he could detect no hint of duplicity in their responses.

No, this was someone else—someone with talent of the sort that Edinja had possessed.

But Edinja was dead, and he still had no idea who had killed her or why. Whoever thought he was responsible and hiding it was mistaken. But there was no way he could relay that information to his persecutor without knowing who it was.

Of course, once he found out, he wouldn’t waste five seconds trying to explain anything. He would simply have Stoon remove the source of the problem.