Page 17 of The Omega Thief

Raz frowned. “Was he kicked?” A panicked horse would do that.

“He was in the feed store, sire. The stables were full because of the celebration. The head groom had gone in search of him, and that was when the fire was discovered. He immediately raised the alarm and started getting the horses out. He didn’t know the lad was in there.”

Raz winced and rubbed his head. It had been a long day already, and things had only just begun.

“There’s another problem, sire.”

Raz stifled a sigh. There were many. “With the deaths?”

“Not directly,” Blake replied. “The master surgeon has confirmed likely smoke suffocation as the other cause. We found a fourth body we can’t identify yet, and we have at least six missing. It will help when the daughter of the Salamander’s landlord is awake. Apparently, she kept good records, but we can’t find where.”

Raz nodded. Attiker had said that.

“The real problem is I think the fire was set deliberately.”

Raz met Blake’s hard but steady gaze. He had an awful feeling about what the rest of his words would contain. “What makes you think that?”

“Because the corner of the tack room where we believed the fire started smelled like rotten eggs, even burned.”

“Bollocks,” Raz spat out. It was one of his grandmother’s favorite curse words, much to his father’s consternation, but it seemed appropriate right that moment. Gunpowder smelled like rotten eggs, and Blake, responsible for a lot of their equipment, including how to transport it safely, would know that. “Opinions?”

Blake kept his gaze steady. “Who would want to most disrupt this weekend?”

“The Anti-Shifter Alliance,” Raz said, even though he was pretty sure Blake’s question was rhetorical.

Raz stood, incapable of staying still. Blake obviously followed suit. No one sat in the presence of the crown prince if he stood.

“If I may?”

“Please.” Raz waved a hand, grateful for any suggestions.

“Has your betrothal been announced?”

Raz shook his head. Seven hells. They hadn’t even changed the flags. It wasn’t like Attiker had a house to join with his.

“Your chamberlain, I’m sure, may have better ideas, sire. But do you remember the old flag of the people?”

“The House of Cadmeera?” Raz asked doubtfully. It hadn’t been used since Cadmeera had become a monarchy. In years gone by, it had been a territory—almost a revolutionary sign—and used years before the Fenrirs had taken over.

Blake grinned. “I’m sure either Pinkerton or Carter are out there ringing their hands because they don’t have another house flag to use, but what if instead of that being a problem, it becomes a solution?”

“Meaning?” Raz clipped out, not sure he liked Attiker being referred to as a problem.

“Meaning,” Blake continued, “make His Highness a people’s champion. One of their own. Use the Cadmeera flag. Not only will the ordinary folk love it, but it will negate a lot of what Draul Eryken is riling people up about. He only wins if he turns the common folk. Your bonded could easily ruin all that.”

Raz smiled for the first time that day. Blake left, and Raz summoned both his secretary and his chamberlain. At some point, he would have to speak to his grandmother, but as soon as he’d initiated the flag-raising, he decided, as it was nearly lunchtime, he could go see Attiker.

Guilt suffused him. He’d been so angry on his return that he’d left Attiker in the hands of his tailor and pretty much abandoned him. He’d had a report over two hours ago to say His Highness had retired to their chamber, and Raz remembered being relieved Attiker was going to rest. No, he’d been relieved the confrontation coming had been put off for a couple more hours.

Raz excused himself and, flanked as usual by two bodyguards, he left the room and headed for his chamber. He dismissed the guards at the door, nodded approvingly at the two positioned on either side of the entrance to his suite, and let himself in.

The drapes were closed, but he could immediately make out the shape of his bonded under the covers, and his body stirred to life. He stripped quickly as he walked to the bed and gently lifted the cover.

Then gaped in horror at the rolled-up blanket where Attiker should have been. Raz swore loudly as he yanked his clothes back on, invoking quite a few dead kings and probably some that should have been. He didn’t bother examining the window. He knew how Attiker had left. He was going to murder him with his bare hands. No, no he wasn’t. This was his fault, again.

Attikergapedathimselfin the glass that Maxwell provided him. These clothes weren’t even the final ones he’d been measured for. They were just borrowed ones that had been hurriedly altered, but they were definitely the best garments he’d ever worn in his life. Attiker stared at the stranger in front of him and mulled over all the things he’d learned in the last few hours. He’d found out a lot just by listening to Maxwell and his two assistants talk. They were all so excited. Apparently, the crown prince had lost his parents almost seven months ago. Attiker knew this, of course. The king had been struck down in an accident. He’d died while Raz had been away on a diplomatic mission. The queen had died of a broken heart supposedly, and Raz had immediately taken charge, even though he couldn’t officially be crowned until he had bonded himself. And wasn’t that fortunate for the entire kingdom he’d found his bonded in Attiker?

Attiker was very much on the fence about that, but he stayed silent, yet interested, knowing the best way to get people to talk was to let the silence stretch. Ruby, Maxwell’s wife, loved to talk, fortunately, and had known Raz since the day he was born. It was clear they both loved him and were very much in favor of the monarchy. Azrael, Maxwell’s apprentice, was possibly even quieter than Attiker. He kept his head down and did as he was bid. Heaving the large buckets when Attiker had spent so much time in the bath the hot water needed topping up as it was cooling. He stood and passed pins to Maxwell and kept his head down.

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