After the attack, Liliana’s journey home was otherwise uneventful. She safely reached her estate, ordered the escorts to interrogate the captured man to find out who had sent him, and then headed to her room.
Because she had returned to the estate later than expected, Liliana would need to wait until after dinner to read in the library. Still weary from the ambush, she couldn’t wait to change into something more comfortable and asked Marianne to assist her. Then she settled onto her couch with a cup of tea, finally able to unwind.
“It sounds like you’ve had a long day, my lady. Were you hurt in the attack?”
“My escorts dealt with it,” Liliana wrote on a nearby sheet of paper.
Marianne relaxed at the reply, relieved that her lady hadn’t gone through anything too awful. “That’s good to hear. How was the palace? You haven’t been there in some time.”
“His Highness was very considerate. I also met Austin Ealdred.”
“Oh my. The son of Duke Ealdred,” Marianne said. Being the daughter of Marquess Kenneth, she knew the nobility well.
“You know him?”
“Yes, I’ve heard rumors. He’s the duke’s second son, talented in both combat and study. People say he’s affable and popular with the ladies. He’s also known to have much in common with his uncle.”
Austin had proven himself quite the ladies’ man in the game. If girls were flocking to him now, it was frightening to imagine how adored he might become as he grew older.
“My lady, I fetched the books you were reading last night in the library. They’re on the writing table.”
Liliana turned to the table to find not just the spellbook she hadn’t finished, but a few related volumes as well. She was delighted—it meant she could study from the comfort of her room. Marianne had always had a knack for anticipating her lady’s wishes, but her talent had reached new heights since Liliana lost her voice.
“Thank you.”
She’s such an assiduous handmaiden, despite being due to enter noble society next year.
Marianne had never worked a job before serving Liliana, yet she had shown remarkable growth over the few years they had spent together. She was undoubtedly gifted, but her expertise had been honed through tireless effort.
I wouldn’t mind writing her a letter of introduction when she begins searching for a new position, if she wants one.
That was how deeply Liliana cared—though it didn’t change the fact that a girl of Marianne’s status should never have been working as the handmaiden of a duke’s daughter in the first place. Liliana couldn’t fathom why Marianne was still in her service, but the diligent young woman would surely marry into another family within a few years, as was customary for noble girls.
And if matters do not resolve themselves, I should at least help her find a good family to marry into, though she shows little interest in the idea.
Liliana’s gaze lingered on Marianne. The handmaiden seemed to take quiet delight in her duties as she assiduously set her lady’s belongings in order. Liliana had never asked if she had a man in her life—but even if she did, they could hardly have met with any frequency.
Setting her curiosity aside, Liliana drained the last of her tea, savoring its aroma. I shouldn’t get too deeply involved, she thought. Rather, I should let things take their natural course.
Marianne took the now empty cup from her lady and set it on a tray with the teapot. With no reason to go anywhere, Liliana settled in to read until dinner was ready.
Later, when she returned to her room, one of the escorts charged with interrogating the would-be assassin arrived to deliver his written report. Liliana accepted it and skimmed the contents, learning that her attackers had not been identified. The captured man had apparently taken poison in his cell, ending his own life and leaving nothing of consequence to be gleaned from the incident.
Did he really kill himself?
Marianne lit the bedroom’s fireplace, utterly unaware of her mistress’s thoughts. It may have been early summer, but the nights were still rather cold. Liliana tossed the report into the crackling fire, tilting her head to one side as she watched the flames consume it.
“Shall I prepare your bed?” the handmaiden asked.
Liliana shook her head and picked up the spellbook. It was a small gesture, but Marianne understood immediately, bowing before quietly leaving the room. Liliana waited a few moments, then locked the door behind her. The handmaiden would not return unless summoned.
The sun has set, and the body has surely not yet been disposed of.
It seemed almost certain that the man reputed to have taken his own life remained in his cell. The underground jail was vast, yet after some reflection, Liliana resolved to teleport there. Teleportation spells were taxing, but she didn’t have much trouble with them.
Rekke.
Again, Liliana employed her locating spell. Searching for mana would do her little good, as the man was already dead, but she could still focus on his body heat.
For the first ten hours after death, the body loses roughly one degree Celsius per hour. If our captive died soon after arriving, he must have lost only four or five degrees at most. I should still be able to detect him.
In truth, whether Liliana’s spell would locate the body was no more than a gamble. It was a chilly early summer night, and underground jails remained colder than the outside year-round. Thankfully, fortune favored her that day.
Found it.
The man had been taken to the deepest part of the jail, where the air reeked of blood, sweat, ammonia, and death. It was unbearable. Between the assault on her senses and the dismal atmosphere, Liliana wanted nothing more than to leave. But, steeling her resolve, she teleported past the iron bars into the man’s cell and crouched beside him to inspect his corpse.
The body was in dreadful condition. It was miraculous it still looked human. Evidently, the escorts had been thorough in their work.
It’s hard to make out with all the wounds, but there’s something drawn on his skin... A bird?
There was a small, barely visible tattoo at the base of the man’s neck. Liliana strained her eyes to see it, relying on the light of a spell. She had never seen the pattern before, but it looked like it could be a hex.
I could copy it down and look it up later. But if it really is a hex, who knows what drawing it might do?
Hexes hadn’t been studied nearly as thoroughly as magic, which meant they remained shrouded in mystery. Even just reproducing one could prove dangerous. Fortunately, the pattern was simple enough to memorize—and Liliana had a good memory to begin with.
Having decided against drawing the tattoo, Liliana turned her attention to other parts of the body. Though still an amateur in the field, she was able to estimate the time of death from the condition of the skin, the muscles, and the remaining warmth. The man had perished less than an hour after being locked up.
On inspection, none of the external wounds were lethal. It was reasonable to assume the man had taken his own life while the escorts were away, after they had tortured him. Yet there was no sign of any container that might have held the poison.
The report mentioned that too. Was it in his mouth all along?
If so, one had to wonder why he hadn’t taken it before the torture began.
Liliana still had questions, but the corpse had no more answers to give. So, she teleported out of the underground jail and back to her room, where she summoned Marianne and asked her to draw a bath. She feared the sickly odor of the cell still clung to her.