Page 81 of The Dragon King's Assassin

Chapter Thirty-Four

“Sire, I—” Paslan started.

“I don't care, Paslan,” Taroc cut him off. “Just stop doing it. Now, leave me.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He bowed and scurried away.

“Shall I search Lord Crushei's home, Your Majesty?” Captain Vettan asked.

“Yes, immediately.”

“Yes, Sire.” He left as well.

The King turned to face me. “Any thoughts, Assassin?”

“Only that if Lord Crushei is lying, he's a phenomenal actor.”

“Yes, I agree. I saw nothing but anger in him until I accused him of murder. If he were behind this, he would have been nervous as soon as he was arrested.”

“Yes, precisely.” I looked at Ren. “What do you think?”

Ren barked.

“So how did that note get into Yusef's desk?” I asked.

“The only explanation—if Crushei is innocent—is that it was placed there by the real villain.”

“A villain who had access to Pascal's correspondence.”

“Yes.” Taroc looked around the room as if his enemy might be lurking in the shadows.

“I assumed it wasn't a Dragon,” I said.

“Why is that?”

“During the Rite of Ensarena, when your,”—I waved a hand at him—“fire sacrifice was accepted, the light became so blinding that I had to close my eyes. It was the perfect opportunity for a kill, but no one took it.”

“That doesn't mean anything. No Dragon would defile that rite with death. And even if they'd been willing to shit on our goddess, they'd know that they'd immediately become a suspect. It would be far wiser to wait.”

“Yeah, I'm seeing that now. And a whole kingdom's worth of Dragons was in this palace the night the violinist was killed.”

“I would be shocked if it was a Dragon.”

“You just said—”

“I was talking about the rite. Now I'm talking about Dragons. A Dragon wouldn't hire an assassin to kill for them. They'd do it themselves.”

“But you've got people around you all the time and knights watching over you. Killing a king is tricky. Maybe they weren't up to the task.”

“If they thought themselves incapable, they certainly wouldn't think a human could pull it off.”

“Yeah, all right, no need to get nasty.”

“I'm not trying to be nasty.” He took my hand. “Lock, what I said in the carriage, I wasn't trying to . . .”

“Be a dick?”

He nodded. “I want you to trust me.” He pulled me into an embrace. “I need you to trust me. It's important.”

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