Arne watched Reed expectantly, waiting for him to squeeze out even a single word. They were in an unfamiliar room filled with numerous cabinets and a small fireplace. A vial of the familiar draft sat on the table, and Reed had to tell Arne what was wrong with it. He needed to do so with enough subtlety and objectivity to avoid leading the investigation back to himself. His gaze was fixed on the liquid. It seemed so harmless, yet was so deadly. Rene didn't even suspect yet that she had become the prime candidate for execution. It didn't matter how dangerous that ill-fated concoction actually was. The mere fact that she had brewed it and given it to Victoria was a crime.

  The prince had obtained Victoria’s "medicine" from Merit himself. Even if the advisor didn't particularly care about his wife’s death, he had decided not to interfere with Arne’s attempt to play investigator. He handed over the remaining vials simply to be left alone as quickly as possible. In general, this raised no questions, as it concerned neither the mages nor the King. One could simply write it all off Arne’s boredom. Arne had suffered through a severe fit of rage when he realized that Victoria’s death had actually affected no one. Everyone was simply trying to forget about it as soon as possible, and the castle was already preparing for the first spring hunt.

  That evening, Reed was supposed to accompany Rene to the cellars, but the prince had no intention of delaying his business and assigned Adrian to her instead. While Arne was giving orders, Reed realized one important thing: Adrian was not a friend. He was a mediator used to monitor the mercenary Arne had brought into the castle. Reed didn't feel angry at either Arne or Adrian for this as he would have done the same.

  Adrian left, and Reed caught himself thinking that he felt no shame. Rene could interfere with many plans and was a dangerous woman to have around. Not because she wanted to be, but because Salvat held some unknown yet powerful leverage over her. Blackmail makes people do interesting things, and Reed was certain that if she were forced to make a choice, she would choose herself and her own safety. Consequently, she would choose Salvat. Moreover, if she had anything at all to do with those corpses in the Maple Garden, her fate was well-deserved. Just like Reed’s, if he ever had to answer for everything he'd done. And he had done enough. Dying, Reed would be certain that his death was a consequence rather than a random stroke of ill luck. Men like him live in anticipation of death. He would only feel sorry for Meredith.

  "What do you need?" the prince asked bluntly once Adrian had stepped out.

  "Time," Reed said, taking the vial in his hands. He was certain he was holding the exact same decoction he tampered with to kill Victoria.

  "How much?"

  Reed shrugged as he pulled out the cork. A sweet, cloying scent hit his nose. Somewhere in his soul, a feeling akin to triumph surged. Maintaining his thoughtful expression, he grumbled, "The smell is interesting. Familiar."

  "No kidding?" Arne snapped sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

  "I'm the only one of us who’s a contract killer," Reed countered. "Poisons have scents too, and after so many years, you just know things."

  "How many is 'so many'?"

  "Forty years." Reed had no desire to share such details, but gave in. Arne could have found out everything about him, but he didn’t. The prince had only sought out what he deemed important.

  "Don't look at me like that," Reed grimaced. "As if you didn't know I was cursed elf."

  "How old were you when you started?"

  "How is that any of your business?" Reed snapped, pure irritation flashing across his face.

  Arne smirked boldly.

  "Curiosity is no sin," the prince said, raising his hands in mock surrender.

  "And I thought you were the one who grew up in the castle. Curiosity can sometimes cost a man his head."

  "How do we identify the poison?" Arne asked, his expression suddenly turning serious.

  "There are many ways... the sediment, the color, the smell. It would help to know what kind of draft it is and what its true purpose was. Tell me, how exactly did Victoria die?"

  "Why do you need to know?"

  Reed rolled his eyes.

  "Sometimes you seem smart, yet other times you're appallingly stupid."

  "Have you forgotten who you're talking to?"

  "And what'll you do?" Reed chuckled. "Fire me? Or order me to be hanged?"

  "I'll torture you with my stupidity," Arne replied. Reed laughed out loud. He trusted the prince no more than he trusted Maró, yet a strange semblance of sympathy was present nonetheless.

  "I need to know how she died to narrow down what they might have used. I can weed out the possible substance if there is actually poison in here," Reed explained calmly. He shook the vial and set it on the table, examining it.

  "I already told you. I wasn't there, but Merit said she lost the baby first," Arne choked out, taking a breath. Reed waited patiently for the prince to collect his thoughts. "Naturally, there was bleeding, and everyone thought it was normal until blood started seeping from her nose, then her mouth and ears. And she had fever. Her eyes were bloodshot, and before... before she died, she was vomiting blood so violently that she couldn't breathe."

  "Did it take her long to die?"

  "About twenty-four hours."

  Reed feigned deep thoughtfulness. He remained silent for a long time, staring at the vial on the table. To an observer, it might have seemed that he was meticulously sifting through all forty of his years as a mercenary, but in reality, Reed was simply stalling, playing out his performance. Arne waited patiently.

  "There aren't many poisons capable of producing such a result," Reed finally spoke. "The Sorcerer, Alaira’s Mercy, and Black Avrin... they all cause fatal hemorrhaging, but they work differently. And they contain different herbs. Karida, night dew, avrin..."

  "Let's skip the theory," Arne dismissed him with a sharp wave of his hand. "I need a specific answer."

  "I don't have one yet; I need to test it. Do you think it’s that easy? You just pick it up and have the answer?"

  "Then get to it. Everything in this room is at your disposal."

  The prince exited silently, leaving Reed alone. Once the door closed, he finally allowed himself to breathe. Sinking into a chair, he dropped his head into his hands and cursed quietly.

  ***

  Reed had to spend the entire night playing with the vials for the sake of credibility. By the time Arne returned, Reed had already devised a coherent story and prepared himself for the interrogation. After all, he truly was an expert in poisons. The prince gave Reed a searching look and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

  "Karida," Reed said curtly, tossing the empty vial to Arne. The prince caught it and turned it over in his hands, scrutinizing it.

  "What is it?" he asked.

  "A dirty trick," Reed said, rubbing his face to mimic utter exhaustion. "This poison isn't exactly a poison, not in minute doses. I can't say for certain what else was mixed in there, but karida gives itself away in a very distinct manner."

  Arne sat at the table, pushing aside the empty vessels. His eyebrow arched eloquently as he waited for an explanation.

  "As I said, there aren't many poisons with such an effect. Night dew leaves a sediment, making the liquid cloudy, and has almost no scent. Avrin turns red if mixed with a velvet tripod brew," Reed said, pointing to one of the containers on the table. Arne looked at the glass vessel with little interest, and Reed continued, "and only karida foams when it's boiled."

  Arne’s gaze flicked toward the cooling fireplace, where patches of settled foam clung to the stone.

  "Karida, you say?"

  "Yeah. It's usually consumed as a powder. The leaves and buds are dried, ground, and brewed like tea. In small doses, it's a medicine. In large ones, it can get you dead. It's easy to get your hands on but difficult to master. And the smell... I recognized it because I've used this poison before."

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  "Here?"

  "In Antari," Reed lied. "The catch is that spotting karida in a draft is difficult unless you know what to look for. There are many plants that smell almost exactly the same but never foam. Plus, the scent can be masked. There was far too much karida in this mix to chalk it all off as a recipe error or carelessness. The dose was exceeded on purpose. The question is, who wanted Victoria out of the way?"

  "Good question," Arne grunted.

  "It was done very clumsily, likely with the expectation that everyone would think Victoria had simply overdosed on her own medicine. Karida is indeed used to improve blood flow. Victoria was pregnant and could have been drinking this sludge to help her circulation. But that's only if the karida was used wisely. If you overdo it, the blood flows from everywhere. I saw it in Antari when..."

  Arne watched him with such undisguised interest that Reed faltered.

  "How would you have done it?" the prince asked, his gaze still piercing.

  "What?" Reed stared back at him, confused.

  "How would you poison someone, if you wanted to?"

  "If I wanted to poison someone, I'd do it discreetly. An amateur worked here. As I said, the work is sloppy."

  "Really?"

  "Death is merely the result. Look at the process itself," Reed explained with a sudden spark of energy. "Instead of poisoning a single dose with something potent, they poisoned the entire batch, stretching the whole affair out over several days. It's slow, blatantly obvious, and it leaves traces. It wouldn't take someone like me to find karida in the draft. Any healer worth their salt would have noticed it. A skilled, prepared killer would use a rare, complex poison that's difficult to detect. White Sorrow or a steel vine brew, those are also poisons, but they have no scent, almost no color, and no distinct features. A person would simply fall asleep, without fountains of blood erupting from every hole. But here... it looks like a mistake, yet it's impossible to mess up the dosage this badly. To answer your question, I wouldn't take the risk. I'd kill discreetly and choose a different method."

  "You've thought about this a lot, haven't you?" Arne asked after a pause.

  "I had all night to ponder it."

  "Now we only need to find out who wanted Victoria dead."

  "I don't like your tone, Your Highness," Reed replied sharply, catching Arne’s unwavering stare. "I don't like that you suspect me after I found the cause of your paramour's death. And I don't like that you aren't considering that I simply have no reason to kill her."

  "No reason at all? Your story fits together just a little too perfectly."

  "I'm here for the advisor. You smuggled me into the castle for that. Only your silence stands between me and the gallows. Why would I kill your mistress and risk exposing myself? I don't do such things for entertainment, and no one is going to pay me for it. Think on whose toes she stepped."

  Grabbing his cloak, Reed cast a final glance at the pensive Arne. The prince was clearly not himself, which was understandable. Had he been in his place, Reed might have behaved even worse. Leaving the prince to his heavy thoughts, Reed headed for the barracks. Outside the window, dawn began to break, but the darkness didn't recede. It was the kind of darkness that promised blood and pain, and Reed himself had ushered it in. All that remained was to direct it.

  ***

  The second murder shook the castle one Moon later. Reed killed Gerard, using a similar poison from his own supplies. It wasn't that he had any particular grievance against the man. Gerard knew too much. And he had been taking medication from Rene for the nausea that had plagued him for a long time and significantly restricted his diet. Gerard had mentioned this during a patrol, and a week later, he died in the dead of night. They found him in bed. Gerard had choked on bloody vomit in his sleep and Reed slipped the poison vial into Gerard’s pocket. He had intentionally transferred his own poison into the vial Rene had once given him, with the royal seal.

  By the time Rene reached the barracks, all the guardsmen had already gathered. A quiet whisper filled the room, creating an uneasy atmosphere. The upside was that it hadn't been Reed who'd found Gerard’s body. He had returned from night patrol to find the man already dead.

  Arne maintained his distance, but the guardsman’s death didn't escape his notice. To Reed’s great surprise, no one else in the castle cared. Victoria had been quickly forgotten, and some low-ranking guardsman concerned no one at all. They chalked it all up to Gerard’s condition. And then, with a touch of relief, everyone just dismissed it. They held a quick ceremony and sent the body to his family, eager to return to their usual affairs. Reed wasn't even surprised. That was one more proof that he had no reason to pity these titled rats. They would forget him just the same, closing their eyes and ears and finding a remarkably simple cause of death while he rotted for three days in the Gray Chambers. After a couple of Moons, no one would even remember him.

  A day after Gerard’s death, Reed marched toward Arne’s office with a confident stride, while the prince continued to pretend as if nothing had happened. He kicked the door open, catching Arne at his desk. The prince was sorting through papers and looked up in surprise as Reed brazenly barged in.

  "Are you going to do something about this?" Reed growled, raising his voice.

  "Close the door," Arne commanded, setting aside his quill. When the door slammed shut and a heavily breathing Reed approached the desk, the prince asked, "What am I supposed to do, and about what?"

  "You know exactly what. Gerard died last night, choking on his own blood. Does that remind you of anything?"

  "Shut up and breathe. And while you recollect who you're talking to, I'll tell you something," Arne said, pointing to a chair. Reed sat down, his jaw twitching nervously. "No one cared about Victoria; why do you think they'll care about Gerard? The King told me I need to find another hobby. Victoria died due to an unfortunate coincidence, and Gerard was already ill, as Rene herself claimed. Others knew about it too. There is nothing strange here. I'm simply looking for non-existent connection."

  "Did you tell him about the karida?" Reed asked, glancing at the suspiciously calm Arne.

  "I did," the prince nodded. "Advisor Salvat said it all comes down to the fact that Victoria should have listened more closely to the healer’s advice, and everything would have been fine. Or perhaps she was so saddened by marrying a man she did not love that she decided to end the marriage in her own way. Just as you said..."

  "He's covering her..." Reed exhaled, feigning a look of horror.

  "What?"

  "He's covering Rene," Reed explained.

  "That's a bold accusation."

  "Rene had plenty of reason to hate Victoria. Even before Merit arrived at the castle, my comrades were gossiping about how he'd been involved with Rene but married Victoria instead. To put it mildly, that didn't sit well with her. I saw her crying myself when Merit returned. She was livid."

  "Then what does Gerard have to do with it?" Arne listened intently, lost in his own thoughts. Clearly, the prince knew far more about the relationship between Victoria and Rene than Reed himself did.

  "Gerard..." Reed drawled thoughtfully. "Do you remember that evening when you caught me in the South Wing?" Arne nodded. "I’d been punched in the face for cheating at cards, and Gerard took me to Rene because my swollen mug could have caused trouble in the morning. At the time, Rene said she was busy, but Gerard convinced her to help. She let us in, quickly kicked him out, gave me some medicine, and tossed me out too. That night, her room was filled with the exact smell as that draft."

  "Why didn’t you tell this before?"

  "I thought it wasn't important. She could have eliminated Gerard because he saw too much, even if he didn't realize what he’d seen. And it's in Salvat's interest to keep Rene alive and maintain her reputation. She helps him with the mages in the cellar. I heard he's blackmailing her, and if he hasn't found a replacement for her yet, it means she's indispensable. Which means..." Reed faltered, a flash of surprise mixed with fear crossing his face. "Which means I'm next."

  "I was wondering when you'd figure that out," Arne chuckled, leaning back in his chair.

  "You knew?"

  "Of course I knew. You should hurry with your work, Reed," a wicked smile slid across his face.

  "Do you really not want her to answer for what she did?"

  "She'll answer, though not right now. Your safety is hardly my concern."

  "Spoken like a man who doesn't throw away his allies," Reed remarked with a bitter grin.

  "You aren't my ally," the prince countered.

  "Then is it worth becoming one?"

  Arne just smiled and shrugged.

  "If you think it's necessary."

  Reed did his best to project indignation and surprise, acting as though he'd been cleverly trapped into cooperation. Outwardly, he appeared dejected, but deep down, he was triumphant. Arne was trying to play Reed like a piece on a chessboard. Yet Arne failed to realize he'd walked into a trap far more sophisticated than his own.

  It was to Reed’s advantage for Arne to view him as an ally. It diverted suspicion. The prince believed Reed was dependent on him and would do exactly as he was told. One couldn't find a more loyal ally than a man whose life you'd saved. Moreover, Arne held the secret of Reed’s identity and could use it to squeeze him at any moment if things went sideways. Reed willingly handed Arne this weapon along with the confidence that he controlled the situation. It was useful as Reed held far more trump cards than Arne could possibly imagine. It wasn't even dishonorable. The prince himself had admitted that everyone in the castle played their own game. Why, then, shouldn't Reed play his? Why not be a leading figure in this performance rather than a pawn? Reed wanted this illusion to persist.

  Furthermore, Arne could get rid of Rene and Reed wouldn’t get any blood on his hands. It was necessary to eliminate her, as Reed had his own designs for the mages in the cellar. Someone like Rene could seriously complicate those plans. It was easier to clear the vipers immediately than to be bitten later.

  "Fine," Reed finally conceded. To an observer, it looked like the result of long deliberation, but he'd decided his course long ago. Now, he was merely stalling, putting on a performance while forging each link in a chain of advantageous events.

  "I knew it would come to this," the prince smirked. Reed grimaced in response. "In truth, I didn't want it to happen exactly like this, it’s just... you got yourself into a very convenient mess."

  "Celebrate later, all right? What about Rene?"

  "You'll kill Salvat. And Arden won't be able to ignore it. I'll tie all the threads together, since Rene has plenty of reasons to want him dead too. Stay close to Adrian as he's aware of the situation and will cover for you. No matter how bad things get, don't take anything from Rene, or from anyone you don't trust. When Salvat dies, Arden will start asking questions, and that's where your involvement ends. I'll see to it that Rene makes it to her meeting with the gods on time."

  "So, we're simply going to pin Salvat's death on her?"

  "What, is that too simple? The simpler the plan, the easier it is to execute. Arden will have all the evidence he needs."

  "Fine," Reed stood up and exhaled. "I'll do it during the spring hunt."

  Arne gave a satisfied nod.

  "Why would Rene want Salvat dead?"

  "Because her son is gifted with a power that would have him executed five years ago,” Arne replied. "Salvat knows this, and the only thing standing between Rene, her son, and death is her loyalty to his cause. If Salvat dies, there'll be no one to reveal that secret. Or at least... that's what she believes."

  Reed gave a crooked smile. There were many differences between Arne, Maró, and Rene, but they shared one thing in common: each of them thought they were the one in control.