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Mehl frequented his own study far less than he did Toren’s. Although he used the room to review the accounts and sometimes to interview new staff, he left the finer details of household management to Feref. In fact, Mehl had barely changed the decorations after becoming king, and so the tiny, rectangular box sat atop the same low table chosen by Toren’s father a millennium or so before.

On the other side of the table, one of the court mages, Islil, waited beside a healer named Mery. Both women were reliable and seemingly trustworthy, but Mehl was still surprised to see them. He’d expected Toren to summon the highest-ranking in the land out of an over-abundance of caution.

He gave a quick, absent greeting as he stopped beside the table to study his unexpected gift. The box appeared to be made from a rich, deep brown wood, but gold scrollwork and inlaid pearl covered much of it. What was the purpose of such a thing? It would hold very little gold or jewelry. Possibly tea or perfume?

Though in this case, poison seemed more likely.

Mehl met the healer’s gaze. “Did you detect any harmful substances?”

“I did not, Your Majesty,” Mery replied.

Islil shook her head before he could ask. “No harmful spells, either, King Mehl. A surprise, coming from…”

“Prince Ber,” he finished for her, then waved away her sputtered apology. “You needn’t hold your tongue about him around me. You’re unlikely to say anything I haven’t thought.”

“He is still a prince of Eyamiri blood.” The mage’s cheeks flushed red. “I’m sure if High King Toren heard me disparage his brother, I would be scolded. Thus, I must beg Your Majesty’s grace in forgetting the slip.”

Truly, he was the last one she should worry about in such a situation, but he wasn’t going to make her more uncomfortable by arguing the matter. “Of course. As for the box, did you note whether it opens?”

“There is a small button,” the healer said, answering for Islil. “Shall I press it?”

Once again, Mehl nearly argued—he could press a button himself—but he had a feeling Toren had ordered these two not to let him do anything remotely risky. So instead, he merely nodded. His pride would only delay matters, not help them.

After the mage cast a shield around the box, Mery touched a tiny pearl on one corner. With a soft snick, a blade shorter than the length of his thumb shot free, and the healer let out a low yelp of surprise. But it only took her a heartbeat or two to regain her composure before she lowered her hand to just above the blade so she could scan with her magic.

While she and Islil did their work, Mehl knelt down for a closer visual examination. It was an odd object to hold a knife, especially such a small one. Unless the wielder stabbed a major artery, it wouldn’t do the kind of damage a healer couldn’t repair. The blade didn’t even look particularly sharp. It could perhaps slit a throat or gut a person, given enough force and determination, but a regular dagger would do a better job of either.

If Ber had meant to send this as a threat, it was an odd one.

“I’m still detecting no hint of magic,” Islil said. “Beyond the spell maintaining the integrity of the blade over time, that is.”

“There’s no poison, either.” Mery straightened. “In fact, I can’t find a trace ofanykind of poison, herb, or potion ever being used on this. Even the inner lining wasn’t made with suspicious dyes. It’s a strange device, but it doesn’t appear to be dangerous. Blade notwithstanding.”

As soon as the mage’s shield faded, Mehl picked the knife up, though both women looked worried that he’d touched it. He made a mental note to tell Toren not to scold them. They were in an awkward position, being ordered by one king to protect the other. But Mehl couldn’t delay his investigation because of that. He would learn no more without physically examining the device.

The fancy box made a terrible hilt for a hand his size. If this was truly meant to be a weapon, it had likely been designed for someone with a slighter frame, but even then, it would be difficult for the wielder to get enough leverage for an effective blow. Maybe he was thinking too much like a warrior? For all he knew, it had been designed to open missives.

“It appears to be nothing more than a gift, after all,” Mehl said. “But I am grateful for your care in examining it. Thank you. You may go.”

After the briefest hesitation, the two bowed and then left. Only then did he drop onto the soft, aged cushions of the nearest chair so he could take a closer look. Ber wouldn’t have given this to him for nothing. It was simply impossible that… Wait, was the lining poking out the tiniest bit at the base of the blade?

It took a few jabs with the tip of his dagger and a great deal of tugging, but eventually, he worked a piece the size of his fingernail free. And on it? The edge of a letter. There was writing on the cloth. After finding that, care warred with impatience as Mehl fought to free the lining without damaging it. The thin silk had been wound around something inside that box—probably the mechanism that held and released the blade.

He was ready to throw the whole thing against the wall by the time he freed the cloth and smoothed it across the low table in front of him. The silk was nearly the length of his forearm, and nearly every bit of the gold-colored fabric was covered in bold writing. With his name scrawled along the top, the message was no doubt a new one.

Mehl—

Keep your mistrust of me. It is well-deserved. However, as I know your diligence in protecting my brother, I cannot neglect to warn you of any known threats. Firstly, Ryenil has planted six spies amongst the royal servants over the course of the last decade. I could not determine whether all six still remain, but I will list their names and last-known positions at the end, along with the three noble families involved in Ryenil’s plans. I am uncertain how many from each house bear knowledge of the plot—that is for you to investigate.

Second, and of greatest concern… The assassin responsible for my mother’s death was never found. This person was placed in the palace before I was born, I believe, and Ryenil has never admitted to their presence. However, the vial of poison I discovered is a type he prefers. I found it wedged beneath a saucer on the tea tray, suggesting the involvement of a servant. Toren would hear no words I spoke in defense, but had he investigated more thoroughly, he would have discovered that I never touched the stopper on that vial.

Not that it matters. Search for a similar poison amongst the long-standing servants, and my family might find true closure. At the least, guard Tes and our child. Ryenil mustnotknow she lives, and placing her so visibly as your new bride’s companion is a risk I do not like. If she or my child are harmed, I will kill you myself.

And if Toren hesitates to use his energy to change our laws, find a way to force him. We must remove every fleck of Ryenil’s power.

Prince Berrett Eyamiri, Loyal Son of the Blood

Mehl read the bold message four times before he made it to the list of names, but he found he could barely register the shock of those. Instead, his eyes were drawn time and again to one key claim: “he would have discovered that I never touched the stopper on that vial.” For as Mehl thought back to the day of the queen’s murder, he could recall little about the vial in question. He’d been too intent on protecting Toren from any possible threat.