Page 5 of By Mistake
"Busy as usual, but I did have a favor to ask of you."
"Oh, la, intriguing.I don't suppose it's that you want an introduction to some beauty or another?"
Stupidly, Oresti's mind went straight to Andrus, who was lovely even one step from starvation, and would be positively breathtaking when he was back in good health.
Shaking the strange, distracting thought away, Oresti said, "No, sorry, I am still not interested in getting married."
Alina sighed."Pity.I get harassed daily by people who would love to wed and bed you."
"Oh, shut up," Oresti said with a groan."Look, I need your help.I want everything you can possibly learn about Lord Bothwell and why he's so hated.I met him today, and the rumors of him being cold and snobby don't ring true.He was shopping for groceries in a poor-side market for crying out loud, and when someone pushed him and destroyed his purchases, all he did was run home trying not to cry.He is nothing but skin and bones, and the sweetest person I've ever met.Something smells foul about all the nasty rumors attached to him."
Alina's brows rose, and she tilted her head slightly, regarding him in that pensive way of hers that said both 'good future queen' and 'irritating know it all sister'.Finally she said, "I'll look into it.Give me three days."
"Thank you," he replied, and dutifully bent to kiss her cheek and accept the same in turn."You're the best."
"You'll owe me."
Oresti rolled his eyes as he headed out."No, I will not attend a ball or banquet or whatever and be flirted with incessantly all night."
"You're such a pisspot."
He grinned and bowed before letting himself out of her room, but his levity faded as he headed back to his own room, mind spinning between Andrus and this new task, on top of everything else he was working on.
Greivs waited for him, dressed for a night of mischief in dark, unremarkable clothing and subtle weaponry like hidden knives and weighted gloves.His springy dark brown hair had been pulled back into a knot at the back of his head.
Oresti changed his own clothes quickly, wrapping a strip of dark linen around his hair to keep it out of his face.He smiled as he rejoined Greivs."Shall we?"
"Lead the way," Greivs replied with a grin."What are we up to tonight?"
"First we're going to go examine a body.After that, there is someone I want to check in on, and after that we're going to ask some questions and, if necessary, rattle some bones."
Greivs laughed."Sounds like fun.Who are we checking on?"
"Someone I met today who I think is being tormented," Oresti replied, and told him everything that had happened as they made their way down to the kitchens and the spare cold room usually only needed during holidays and important state events.
Inside, Oresti gave a silent questioning look at the little smirk on Greivs' face.
"I can't recall when last you took notice of any one person so acutely.The 'most perfect diamond in the world' practically threw herself at you last week, and you couldn't even recall her name later."
"She was annoying," Oresti grumbled, "and what's so strange about caring about a man being bullied and starved to death?"
Greivs smiled."Nothing at all."As they reached the table where the body was laid, his brows shot up.Greivs didn't help with his work often, having plenty of work of his own, but he'd helped often enough that dead bodies and other grisly facets of the job did not trouble him."Why is the Duke of Bidding dead?"
"That's one of the things we're going to be figuring out."
Lord Dorland Willow-White, the eleventh Duke of Bidding, had been a broadly admired and respected figure.Not as generous with his wealth as he could have been, but not wholly greedy either.An expert politician, he'd spent years abroad as an ambassador in two different countries, returning home only about seven years ago, and since then he'd been an avid participant in politics at all levels, from minor local squabbles in his province all the way up to helping negotiate treaties and more with other countries.
Most recently, he'd been supportive of a new law that was set to go for voting in a few weeks when Session was called.Current law dictated that persons convicted of third-level crimes received a minimum sentencing of what people called 'the dread thirty' or sometimes just 'the thirty'.Thirty lashes, thirty sels, or thirty weeks.
The system was grossly unfair, as third-level crimes were almost entirely petty crimes, with the most serious being things like mugging—and reclassifying those was part of the changes being made.The crucial change, though, was that the penalties for third-level crimes were being drastically reduced in the new bill.The changes included: abolishing lashes entirely, setting the fine to be commensurate with the income of the person convicted, and the maximum jail time just one month.
Arguments over the changes had waged for months and grown increasingly contentious.Willow-White had been leading the side in support of the changes, had in fact been the one to propose the majority of them.Opposition insisted the changes were too soft, would make people commitmorecrimes.
Oresti hadn't thought the matter worth killing over, but he really should know better by now.
After the initial look over, he started a closer examination, pulling out the small magnifying glass he wore on a chain around his neck.It had been a gift from Greivs several years ago for his birthday.The glass itself was framed in gold, and a protective cover kept it safe from scratches.The cover was of an ornate gold flower laid over mother-of-pearl.It had proven useful more times than Oresti could count.
"Nothing on the neck," he murmured, moving on to examine the hands next.The left hand turned up nothing, but on the right he found exactly what he was looking for."Here, middle finger, right under the nail.A professional hit."He handed the glass to Greivs.
