Page 4 of By Mistake
On the surface he was Investigator Oresti Kahlan.In reality, he used the posting to do a great deal of covert work for his father and eldest sister.The youngest son, and second youngest overall, he'd never been meant for the political games of court or further abroad.It wasn't outside the realm of possibility he'd wind up in a marriage powerplay, but highly unlikely as his father was greatly against such things.He'd been forced to marry his first wife, forced to marry his second, and it was only his third wife whom he'd loved.And whom he'd lost like the first two.People loved to whisper the king was either cursed or a killer.
If Oresti had learned anything over the years, it was that sometimes life just plain fucking sucked for no damn reason at all.
Which brought his thoughts crashing right back into Lord Bothwell.Andrus, though he hadn't given Oresti permission to use his name.Beautiful, frail, so achinglysad.Oresti had wanted to scoop him up and carry him to bed and ply him with the finest foods until he no longer looked one missed meal from collapsing.
He couldn't remember the last time anyone had fascinated him so.He'd heard the cry, watched as Andrus picked himself up, had seen the anguish on his face, the absoluteheartbreakthat only someone who had to struggle for every pence could feel.It wasn't a problem Oresti had ever faced, obviously, but he helped as often as he could without drawing too much attention to himself.
Buying a ridiculous amount of food for Andrus had definitely not been avoiding attention, but he would be damned if he left someone to starve.
Heaving from the bath, he accepted the towel Greivs held out and dried off before walking naked into his dressing room where he pulled on clothes suitable for meeting with his father, then his sister, and then attending dinner, should he be dragged into that.Hopefully not.He wanted to get back into the city to do the kind of work that could only be done by moonlight.
"Hopefully I won't be back until late tonight, Greivs, so give everyone the night, and I'll see you tomorrow."
Greivs quirked a brow."Would you like some company?"
Oresti brightened at the offer."I would, actually.I'll let you know when I break free of my father and sister."
"I'll be waiting."
Mood greatly improved, Oresti headed off to speak with his father, whom he found in his smoking room, irritably reducing an expensive cigar to pieces."You wanted to see me, Father?"
"Took you long enough," King Oranti grumbled, setting the poor, mangled cigar aside."Where have you been?"
Oresti gave him a look that would get anyone else killed."In the city.Doing my job.Which is why you had them blow the whistle to summon me."He'd been at least the tenth person to do so.If he never had to hear that damn whistle again, it would still be too soon."Are you getting senile?"
"Shut up, Ori," Oranti said with a sigh."You know what I meant."
"I was bathing and dressing so you wouldn't complain about me looking like a hooligan.You really are in a bad mood today, what's wrong?"
Oranti sighed again."It hasn't been made public yet, but Lord Willow-White is dead.Heart failure, the healers tell me."
"How oddly convenient," Oresti replied.
"Yes, precisely.I want you to look into it."
"Of course.Where's the body?"
"In the spare cold room.Keep me apprised."
"I will, Father, always.Will you stop making everyone around you miserable now?"
"Go be impertinent somewhere else," Oranti replied, but with a faint smile.
Oresti gave him a playful bow, then headed out in search of his sister, whom he found in her room getting ready for dinner.
"Did you put Father in a better mood?"Alina asked, meeting his eyes in her mirror as she fussed with her cosmetics.
"I think so.Can you tell me anything?"
"Only that he was still alive when he went to bed at three in the morning, he'd been perfectly normal all night, and had a whole two glasses of wine.There was no reason for him to suddenly die of heart failure.For gods' sake, he came in third at that stupid horse race last month.The man was in excellent health."
Oresti leaned against her wardrobe and folded his arms across his chest."How have you managed to keep it secret?"
"His 'good friend' Isabella came to me this morning about it," Alina said dryly."Which reminds me of another detail.The man had no trouble keeping Isabella entertained last night while his wife was off with her little footman."
Oresti snorted."You would be surprised what dying men will insist on doing, but I agree this is only increasingly suspicious."
"I hope you can figure it out, so we can pin the responsible party to the board like the nasty little roach they are."She spun around on her stool and rose gracefully to her feet."How has your day been, Ori?"
