Page 76 of The Scent of Intuition
“Shall we play whist?” Prince Stan’s tone was deceptively casual. “For those unfamiliar, the game is simple. Each hand comprises thirteen ‘tricks’, and whoever wins the most tricks wins the game,” he said, obviously for Alfie’s benefit but when Alfie nodded to signal his understanding, he stopped explaining the rules.
Baron von List gave a slow nod, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Of course,” he said smoothly. “I’m well acquainted with the game.”
As the cards were passed, Alfie couldn’t help but glance at the baron, whose aloof demeanor never faltered.
From where Alfie sat, he could see Bea without lifting his gaze from the cards too much. She stood near the fireplace and watched the men intently, her eyes flickering with curiosity and suspicion. She adjusted her shawl, the warmth of the fire contrasting with the chill in the room. Violet, seated on a plush chair by the fireplace, served Bea and herself tea with genteel grace, her gaze occasionally lifting to observe the players.
The earl shuffled the remaining deck and put it aside. “Let’s begin,” he said, his voice deliberately light.
As the game commenced, Alfie watched for any sign of weakness in the baron. The first few rounds were uneventful, each player taking a polite turn. Alfie won a trick with a well-timed Queen of Hearts, while the Prince played an Ace of Spades, securing one for himself. The baron remained unperturbed, his strategies sharp and calculated.
Alfie had only lifted the glass with the truth serum to his mouth but not wet his lips with it. The earl had finished about half of his, and List the first glass. The prince had left his untouched, reaching for it occasionally but then appearing—cleverly, Alfie had to admit—to be distracted by the game.
Meanwhile, Violet had signaled the footman to top off List’s glass from the same decanter. The second dose was underway.
“How do you like the digestive?” The earl asked, taking another minuscule sip but smacking his lips as if he’d gulped down a whole glass. “It was a gift from a friend who’d visited the Bavarian Alps.”
“It burns,” Stan said, seemingly intent not to meet Alfie’s gaze.
“It’s a fine concoction, indeed,” List spoke as if he meant something else. The room grew silent for a second that stretched.
Alfie watched as Bea and Violet cast each other a look.
“I’ve never had anything with this level of bitterness. You know, Maximilian I Joseph has sent me a bottle of hisAlmgebräuevery Christmas since he ascended to the throne.”
Alfie knew he was speaking of the first King of Bavaria in 1806, when Bavaria was elevated to a kingdom during the Napoleonic Wars. “It has a different taste every year, depends on the herbs the monks use in the distilleries.” He took another swig. “I like the burn better than the ones with too much honey. Sweet ones remind me of cough mixture my governess forced down my throat.”
“Is this the same King Max whose daughter was promised to…” The earl began as he shuffled the cards to deal them again.
“Och ja, ein herziges Mädel.”Oh yes, a nice girl.List wriggled his fingers, demanding the cards. “I should deal this time.”
“Who might that be?” Alfie asked, unwilling to betray that he’d understood German exactly since he’d studied and worked in Vienna for several years. Except that he felt out of his depth with the political intricacies that seemed to mean much to Prince Stan, Bea, and the Langleys. No matter. His job was to make sure the truth serum worked well enough for List to give away information that would help his friends. But it was also to ensure List didn’t take too much. There was no way to know how much he could tolerate; even the best of Alfie’s calculations based on his size were mere approximations.
“His daughter, Princess Sophie of Bavaria, is supposed to marry Archduke Franz Karl of Austria as soon as she’s old enough,” the earl explained.
“This marriage will link the Bavarian royal family with the Austrian Habsburg dynasty,” Stan added, raising his brows appreciatively. At this, Alfie perked up. Weren’t they rival families for Prince Stan?
List nodded. “Very important alliance.”
Stan cast Alfie a short look, and Alfie signaled “no.” List’s pupils were still small, his face had the usual pallor, and his language remained clear. He was certainly a man who could hold his liquor, given that he’d already had the second glass of the strong alcohol laced with the truth serum.
The earl waved to the footman and List received his third glass.
“A coffee for me, please,” Violet said, exaggeratedly loud in the background, as if she meant to tell her husband that it was enough truth serum for him.
“Me too,” Bea nodded to Violet.
The women had obviously grown nervous about the amount of Alfie’s serum that had made the rounds.
During a lull in the game, Stan must have decided to up the ante. “Tell me, Baron,” he said, examining his hand. “What brings you to our kingdom? Surely, it’s not just for the pleasure of our company.”
Baron von List’s smirk was almost imperceptible. “Ah, various business dealings,” he replied. “Trade routes, alliances… you know how it is.”
The earl interjected, his tone now lacking the earlier friendliness. His pupils were enlarged, and his face flushed. “Interesting, considering we’ve heard rumors of more…nefariousactivities.” He tugged at his cravat, loosening it. Alfie could see the carotid artery pulsating on his neck.
List’s hand hesitated above the table, a fleeting sign of uncertainty. “Rumors are the currency of the weak,” he said coolly, playing a King of Diamonds.
“So, nothing to do with the smuggling operations near the Prussian borders?” Stan pressed, his eyes never leaving the baron’s.
