hawk & sable

CHAPTER TWENTY,

HAWK & SABLE | TWENTY

BESIDES HER, RHYS was barely breathing as she regarded the two paintings in front of her. Both portraits. "Norman Hightower," she muttered. "This is it." No words were exchanged as the two girls warily studied the catalysts of this catastrophe, the innocent objects that were now responsible for at least two deaths, and perhaps more they hadn't yet uncovered.

Ciri didn't respond, glancing at Mr and Mrs Du, who were watching with rapt expressions. "I believe this is the key to your daughter's unfortunate demise. These very paintings."

Mrs Du recoiled from them immediately, but Mr Du frowned. "How?" Ciri knew what the man saw. Some oil portraits of no one important. If they didn't speak Arecian, they wouldn't recognise the signature.

"These were illegally obtained goods," Rhys lied, face barely changing, not offering a single moment of hesitation. "She must have been taken advantage of. Damnable business, I hate those who take advantage of good-natured people for their bad purposes."

Mrs Du's eyes widened. "But... but... oh, my poor girl. How could she have—" The woman's voice faltered and she sniffled, dabbing at her eye with her sleeves. She turned her gaze to her husband, who didn't look at her, too focused on the paintings.

"If I must be honest?" Ciri kept her voice quiet, soft. "Another young girl was killed a few days ago. A young official. She was in possession of paintings by the same artist. These paintings..."

Mr Du sensed her hesitation and raised his hand. "We understand. You cannot tell us. So this is why our daughter was taken from us so early. Paintings." He rubbed his forehead, a pained expression on his face.

Ciri nodded, biting her lip. "This is it. I am very sorry for your loss."

His face was stony when he raised his head and their eyes met. "You will find who did this." A statement, not a question. Even if he had no idea who Ciri was, he'd trust Rhys.

"Wo fashi." I swear. "Whoever did this would not get away." A solemn oath that she meant to keep.

Whatever Mr Du saw in Ciri's face, it reassured him. He gave a gruff nod, motioning at the troublesome paintings. "Will you need these?"

Rhys nodded, subconsciously rubbing her arms. "We'll have to take these back to the Scarlet Palace, I'm afraid, though I don't think either of you want to see them much longer." She lowered her head in an act of understanding and sympathy.

Mrs Du frantically shook her head, clearly feeling emotional but trying to hold herself together in front of guests and strangers, which was what they were. "No. Please take them away." Ciri had to resist the urge to wrap her arms around the woman, who suddenly looked frail and years older. Losing a child was never easy. Instead, she dipped her head as well, already feeling guilty over her next words.

"I wish we could give you time to process this, but we must ask more questions, especially now that we know Du guniang's case was linked to this."

Mr Du nodded, leading them back to the table. "Please. Ask. We will answer as much as we can."

They stayed there for a few hours, asking question after question. The couple's younger sons, one fifteen, the other thirteen, came in a bit later on and answered questions too, wide-eyed and innocent. Still, they weren't any closer to finding the spy within their ranks than before they had come. Du guniang hadn't revealed much to her family. Did that speak of caution?

Perhaps Dominic and Malcolm would have better luck. There was no more information to be found here, it seemed.

By the time they left, they were both starving, and the sun was starting to set. Rhys, wordlessly, led her to the carriage, both of them holding the portraits, keeping care in keeping its contents out of public gaze. No need for gossip to start stewing. They hauled the paintings inside, being careful about it.