Page 24

Chapter 7

The day had hardly begunwhen things took an unexpected turn. It turned out they didn’t need to hunt down the traitor as his own family turned him in.

Lord Harris Petturi, the son of the duke—whom she’d not seen since the day before while her mother lay dying—asked for an audience with the new queen. Ensconced in her new office, Avera grimaced when Gustav told her.

“Must I see him? I’ve endured quite enough fawning for one day.” She’d been hard-pressed to eat her midday meal given the numerous interruptions.

“He claims it’s about the murders,” Gustav murmured.

The statement piqued her interest. “Send him in.”

Lord Petturi entered. He appeared nervous, or so the tic by his eye implied. He wore fine clothing, if ill-fitting, on his lanky frame. At least he wouldn’t be there to put himself forth as a possible consort as he’d been long married with several children.

“Your Majesty.” He bowed deep. “Pardon my intrusion during this grievous time of mourning.”

Not in the mood to dance with words, Avera got straight to the point. “Lord Petturi, I’m told you know something about the assassins that felled my family?”

“I do.” A bead of sweat on his brow and his wringing hands showed his angst. It took him a moment to get the words out. “I know who hired them.” A pause saw him swallowing hard before he whispered, “It was my father.”

“The duke?” The queen’s personal advisor, the man who’d essentially run the country following the monarch’s orders. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” A low reply that had Gustav creaking as he shifted his position behind her seat.

Avera clenched her hands in her lap. “You have proof, I assume.”

Petturi nodded and the words came rushing out. “It began when I noticed large sums of coin missing from our coffers a few months ago. When I confronted my father, he claimed he’d used it for an investment. Only, he wouldn’t tell me in what.”

“That hardly makes him guilty,” she pointed out.

“There’s more.” The lord wrung his hands and stared at the floor.

“Go on.” Avera rose and stared out the window instead of at Lord Petturi as it seemed to make him twitchy.

“Over the past while, I noticed my father behaving oddly. Disappearing for hours, returning late at night, cloaked head to toe as if he didn’t want to be seen. I assumed he had a mistress who was blackmailing him when the money went missing. My mother would have been most devasted to find out her husband was dallying elsewhere. Given he kept taking funds from the coffers to the point we began to run short paying bills, I chose to follow him one night, determined to confront him and his mistress. Only, it turned out he wasn’t meeting with a woman, but a ship’s captain in a tavern.”

Gustav, who’d been silent until that moment, asked a sharp question. “This captain, was he Daervian or foreign?”

“Foreign, Grand Rook. Captain of a merchant vessel dealing in mostly silks and spices from Merisu. After seeing my father hand over a sack of coin, I confronted him and asked what he was doing as it seemed very suspicious. He said something to the effect that he was investing in our family’s future and that I’d soon see. Then the heinous murders happened.” The lord dropped his head and his shoulders hunched.

“You accused him?” Avera asked.

He shook his head. “Nay, Your Majesty, I never had the chance to ask for he was in the palace that entire day. However, his actions nagged at me, therefore I went into his office and dug around, hoping to find proof he hadn’t done what I suspected. I found nothing and I was in bed before he arrived home. This morning…” He paused. “This morning, I returned to his office to look again and noticed a loose floorboard. Upon prying it free, I found a box with missives inside. My father has been trading correspondence with the Assassins’ Guild in Saarpira.”

Gustav sucked in a breath. “He’s the traitor.”

Avera whirled from the window. “You have those notes?”

“I do.” Lord Petturi dug them out of a pocket and held them out to Gustav.

The rook glanced through them with a grim expression. “These are very damning.”

“I’m aware, sir.” Petturi looked utterly crushed. “He’s my father and I owe him my very life, but what he did… Murdering our queen, the heirs, even a baby…” he whispered.

“You do realize there is only one punishment for this kind of treason,” Avera spoke softly.

“I know, however, I had to come forth. Not just because his actions were wrong but to also pledge my loyalty to you, Majesty.” He dropped to a knee. “I swear, I knew not what he plotted. If I had, I would have stopped it. Our country was—is—prosperous because of the royal family. I don’t know whatmy father thought to accomplish. I have never had interest in a higher rank. Would never have wanted to be king.”

“What of your brothers?”