Scorched (Phoenix Chronicles Book 2)

Chapter 41: Poison

Phoenix kept her focus on Eric, not letting herself get distracted as they climbed an elaborate staircase in the castle, heading up to Bainon's study. Her heart thudded in her chest, loud enough for her to worry someone in the sleeping castle might hear it and catch them.

"How do you know he'll be in his study?" Phoenix whispered, walking on tiptoe. "Won't he be in his rooms?"

"He always goes to his study after a feast to write any thank you notes he deems necessary."

Thank you notes? Phoenix knew if Eric turned to look at her he'd see complete and utter shock. Bainon wrote thank you notes? A memory of Claire flashed through Phoenix's thoughts.

"He was my favorite brother."

The more Phoenix learned about Bainon, the lest she understood the turmoil in the western portion of the kingdom, the executions, and the need for a Militia. If Bainon was so kind and genial, why were people killed for saying even one word against him?

"Here we are." Eric cut into her thoughts, turning to a door on the right hand side of the hall. He sucked in a breath, steeling himself as he reached for the doorknob. "Ready?"

Phoenix nodded, and Eric pushed the door open, not bothering to knock.

"Eric, my boy." Bainon's surprise increased as Phoenix stepped in behind Eric. The King's brows arched, his body straightening. "Well what's this? To what do I owe the late night pleasure?"

#

Maverick supported Gwen, her arm over his shoulder as they moved her back to her own room. She'd recovered just enough strength to walk a few steps on her own, but Maverick wouldn't embarrass her by carrying her.

"Why'd you come by my room that night?" Maverick asked, each step painstakingly slow as Gwen concentrated on her feet.

"I didn't want you to be doing this just because you have too," she said through gritted teeth. "I wanted to make sure at least part of you wanted the job." She stumbled, and he braced her. "All my life my mother told me I had to take my place on the throne - that I didn't have a choice, it was my birthright. When we found out Clarice had a son, I saw it as my shot at freedom."

"And your mother?"

Gwen grimaced. "At first she saw it as another threat, but when I insisted I wouldn't take the throne - well, I left for the Militia and we haven't spoken since."

"Will you stay here when we leave?" Maverick asked. Part of him thought it might be best if one of the heirs wasn't on the battlefield.

"No. Especially not if we haven't discovered who poisoned us. I won't be able to defend myself with everyone gone."

They'd been packing supplies for three days while Gwen recovered in Maverick's room. Noelle hadn't been around, buried in some list she was convinced would help her solve the mystery of the poisoner. According to Helena, they'd be able to leave first thing in the morning.

"You'll stick with us, then," Maverick said. "Ride with me. I don't want you out of my sight."

Gwen chuckled. "Without everyone realizing that I'm your cousin, they'll think you're taking me as your queen."

Maverick snorted. "I don't care what they think. As long as the people I care about are safe, I'll take the gossip."

"Aw, you care about me, you big lug?" Gwen gave him a feeble sock in the arm.

"You're the last blood relative I have."

"Not the last." Gwen's mouth flattened. "There's always Uncle Bainon."