Guards filter in behind the royal mortician, making a human wall. As Master Regan pulls back the sheet, I avert my eyes, having no desire to see the corpse for myself.
“I recognize him,” Henrik says heavily.
I clutch his wrist. “Who is it?”
“Bendon,” the commander answers, speaking of one of the brothers who defected to Camellia’s side and nipped at her heels like a puppy.
I gesture to the second body. “His brother?”
“We’ll see.” Henrik asks Master Regan, “Any idea how long he’s been dead?”
“Scavengers found him, making it difficult to say,” the mortician answers. “At least a week.”
“Any chance the causes were natural?” I ask, my skin crawling.
“Only if a vampiric animal happened upon him after he stumbled off the cliff.”
I inhale sharply. “His blood has been drained?”
“Just like the man we found in Her Highness’s bedchamber before she disappeared to Ferradelle,” he says with a heavy sigh.
Henrik waits in silence for the other body, nodding to himself when it’s confirmed both brothers were killed and then tossed off a cliff.
“I’ve seen enough,” the commander says, turning back toward our horses.
“What do you think happened?” I ask.
“They wanted to serve Camellia,” he says darkly. “It looks like their mission was a success.”
“Henrik.” I lower my voice to a horrified whisper.
“She must have used them for her concoction.”
“They were the final ingredient,” I say, unnerved. “What exactly did that concoction do?”
His expression hard, the commander offers me his hand as I mount my horse. “I don’t know.”
5
CLOVER
We never findCamellia’s body, nor Barret. The knight’s innocence is slipping further and further from our grasp. He was probably the one who tossed Bendon and Dalvin off the cliff.
After a week of searching, Lawrence has no choice but to move ahead with the funeral.
Only a select few are invited to the event. We wear black out of respect for the royal family, and the occasion is somber. Though I doubt anyone truly mourns the loss of the princess, her burial is a sobering reminder of how a life can go astray.
With Pranmore’s help, the cursed necklaces are destroyed, Camellia’s quarters are stripped of her personal effects, and her ladies are returned to their families. Life slowly, and miraculously, returns to normal.
Normal…but better because Camellia is gone, and I’m no longer being addressed as “Your Highness.” But in some ways, worse. Because Henrik is well on his way to becoming one of Lawrence’s elite, and I don’t see him nearly as often as I would like.
He pauses to talk when we pass in the halls, usually accompanied by Lawrence’s knights, almost always unable to slip away to somewhere private. I get secret smiles, and we exchange lingering glances, but it’s nearly as bad as it was when he was serving Camellia.
I’m sure it’s Lawrence’s revenge. We’re never alone—the king keeps Henrik far too busy.
The spring day is unusually cool as I stroll through the back garden, thinking of Henrik and hoping things will be better after his knighting ceremony tonight. Though the chill in the air is unpleasant, I relish the inclement weather, knowing the people of the court will flock to the castle to avoid the rain and leave me in peace.
“Lady Clover,” a deep, familiar voice says from behind me, making butterflies riot in my stomach.