She Sings at Dawn

XXVII. Yielding Clues

I catch Sigvard in the foyer when I return shifting aimlessly between his feet. The servants that pass by—it's impossible to go two steps without seeing at least one on a mission these days—pay him little mind. I peel myself from Prince Friedrich and cut off his monologue on the Pelican War to thank him for the afternoon. Then, I hurry to Sigvard.

"Where's Benno?" I ask.

"Family business," Sigvard says. He glances at Prince Friedrich who looks rather lost by the heavy double doors. "Upstairs?"

"Sure."

The Salon of the West Wing is empty, so we each take a divan. Relief runs from my heel to my toes. I barely noticed the building ache that comes with walking around town for so long. The stone ground delivers a beating, especially when I wear thin slippers.

"Dinner's in ten minutes," Sigvard says. "We have to compare notes fast."

"Compare? Did you find out anything?"

"Yeah. But you first."

I prop my feet on the coffee table, flexing them to feel a stretch. "It couldn't have been the silk scarf. Silk will absorb the poison, potentially delivering a fatal dose to anyone else that touches it."

"Oh." Sigvard sinks into the cushions. "There goes that."

"But it can be cleaned off a non-absorbent surface, like leather."

"Leather." Sigvard settles his chin on his hand to think. Then, his eyes light up. "Wait, wasn't the finance log leather?"

"You're right!" It completely slipped my mind. "That would explain why it went missing from the Royal Study. And when I went in there that night, I remember it being shiny. But when we found it, the leather was dull, same as the other ledgers I've been studying for Lady Nyoko."

"But why was it in the couch cushions?" Sigvard asks. "If the person could get into the study using the secret passage, then why not do it again to return the ledger?"

"The culprit couldn't because it was off limits. Maybe they were in a panic, needed to stash it somewhere, and couldn't return to it before I found it."

"We need to make a timeline." Sigvard paces around the room in search of paper and a writing utensil. He finds both in the drawer of a side table and returns to the edge of his seat. "So, when was the poison planted in the study?"

"It had to be recent, otherwise someone else might've touched the ledger before the king. And death after touching it occurs quickly and painfully. I'd say

The pen freezes in its scratch marks. "How quickly and how painfully?"

"Three to five minutes. And it creates a burning sensation on whatever it touches."

"Enough for Father to cry out?" Sigvard asks.

"I...don't know. Maybe."

"So Father yells," Sigvard continues, "the guards rush in, and Father dies. Then what? The Royal Study and Wing are now off limits. No one goes in or out."

"Right," I say, trying to follow his reasoning.

"So how does the ledger leave the study? It doesn't sound like there's enough time unless the murderer had access to the study after Father's death."

I'm silent for a couple beats. The Grandfather clock ticks down our last moments until dinner.

"Let's go back further," I suggest. "We can puzzle the ledger's removal out later. When was the poison placed inside the study?"