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The tray had only just been set up when Vesset arrived. As the healer strode through the room, Feref frowned. “Is all well? I thought you were with King Mehl.”

Vesset shrugged. “I had work to catch up on, so I sent Mery.”

“Ah.” The chamberlain nodded. “Did you get your message composed in time, then? I suppose it was quite lengthy.”

A curious flush rose up the healer’s neck and settled into blotches on his cheeks. “Since my son has refused to answer normal letters, yes. Surely, he will not ignore a missive delivered by a noble envoy.”

A noble envoy? Was he talking about one of the Centoi?

“Does your son live in Centoi?” Ryssa asked.

At the princess’s tight tone, Ria peered at her curiously. It wasn’t that unusual to have family in one of the surrounding kingdoms, was it? Though Vesset smiled at the princess, there was a touch of sadness there—or maybe regret—that also gave Ria pause. There was clearly a subtext to this that she was missing.

Vesset nodded. “He is a healer in the king’s court. Well, still an apprentice, really. He wanted to earn his way without my influence.”

“Wait, the king’s court?” Feref’s eyes narrowed. “Hasn’t he been a full healer in one of the outlying villages for several centuries?”

“According to his last letter, he became an apprentice to the royal healer to expand his training.” Pride should have filled Vesset’s expression, but Ria would almost swear it was worry. “I thought I told you.”

The chamberlain shook his head. “You must have forgotten to do so.”

Then the door swung open, and the rush of Toren’s energy swept in before he and Mehl strode through. “Interesting,” Toren drawled, his tone colder than she’d ever heard it when he was speaking to one of his inner circle. “I cannot recall hearing that fact, myself.”

Although the color fled from the healer’s face, his smile remained. “I’m not certain I mentioned it, Your Majesty. I wouldn’t expect such minor details about my family to be important to you, after all.”

Ria barely registered the ringing sound of a blade being drawn before Mehl was standing in front of the healer, his knife at the man’s neck. Her pulse leaping in her ears, she wrapped her arms across her stomach out of instinct. But when Feref stepped in front of her, she gasped. Was something so wrong that the chamberlain had to protect her?

What in the world was going on?

* * *

Mehl dugthe blade into the side of the healer’s neck just shy of breaking the skin. Enough pressure, and the man would likely bleed out before he could think to heal himself. But even if Vessetdidact quickly enough to clot the flow with his power, the distraction would allow Mehl plenty of time to inflict other wounds.

All of which the healer knew.

“Your Majesty?” the man whispered.

“It’s you.” Out of the corner of his eye, Mehl spotted the tea tray situated on the table between the two women. “Tell me neither of you drank that.”

Ria blinked at him in confusion, but Ryssa’s gaze was sharp as she shook her head. But then, she would understand better than most what it might mean for the healer’s son to be in her father’s court. Especially without mentioning the matter to Toren.

“Feref brought us this before his arrival,” Ryssa said. “But I’ve yet to pour.”

At that, Feref paled, his hands lifting in surrender. “I’m not involved in any dark deeds. If you like, I’ll drink the entire pot of tea myself.”

Despite how terribly the chamberlain had acted upon Ria’s arrival, Mehl was fairly certain he was telling the truth. Yet the queen had been murdered by someone close enough to her to slip poison into her drink. None of them could afford to trust too much, not in a situation like this.

Apparently, Toren agreed. “Pour and drink from both cups.”

Feref flinched, hurt flickering for a moment in his gaze. But after a quick bow, he moved slowly and carefully toward the table. With measured motions, he lifted the teapot and filled both cups—then without hesitation, he downed them both.

The healer shifted on his feet, and Mehl pressed the blade a touch deeper. “Move again and you die.”

Vesset froze, a line of sweat the only movement as it rolled down his brow.

“What’s going on?” Ria asked.

“My father always uses the people you love most against you,” Ryssa said softly. “If the healer’s son is in the Centoi court, he’s compromised.”