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“Wait, love,” his husband interrupted, gripping his shoulder before he could charge forward. “Vesset. Did my mother know your son worked in King Ryenil’s court?”

The healer’s jaw clenched. “She did not. In fact, he didn’t enter the court until near the end of her reign.”

Gods. How did Toren listen to something like that?Near the end of her reign.As though the queen had died of natural causes. As though she hadn’t been murdered, probably by the healer himself. But Toren’s gaze held no emotion as he peered at Vesset.

“Does he serve Ryenil willingly?” Toren asked.

“I don’t know,” the healer replied, his nostrils flaring. “I can hardly ask him without risking his life. However, King Ryenil’s threats have been clear enough. If I don’t do what he asks, my son will be disposed of.”

“My spies might be able to carry him to safety, but I will not intercede if he returns to Ryenil’s court of his own accord,” Toren said. Mehl stared at his husband incredulously at those words. Why was he being so generous to a traitor? “However, he will not be welcome in this kingdom, and you will likely be executed for high treason.”

Notentirelygenerous, at least.

In Vesset’s gaze, Mehl saw only tired acceptance. “I deserve it. Upon King Ryenil’s order, I poisoned the queen and left the vial for Prince Ber to discover. The king wanted your brother exiled in the hopes he would return to Centoi.”

Oh, how easily he confessed! Mehl’s hands clenched as he fought the urge to strangle the rest from the man. Words gasped out in pain would be just as useful—but they weren’t always as true. He needed to remember his training. As he’d been taught, not only was torture cruel, but it often prompted false confessions.

“How long have you been planning to kill my wife and unborn child?” Toren asked, a pulse of energy accompanying the question.

The healer’s chains rattled as he stepped forward, clenching his hands together tightly. “I wanted no part in harming her. That I swear. I’d hoped your discretion would prevent him from learning about her, but rumors must have followed Lord Aony back to the capital. Believe it or not, I am loyal to you, High King, and Lady Ria is kind and lovely. I…I carried the poisons as ordered. One would have caused a miscarriage, and the other would kill if that didn’t work. But I don’t think I could have used them.”

Those words snapped Mehl’s temper like a flimsy practice sword in full combat. Before he realized it, he had Vesset pinned against the wall, his hand wrapped around the healer’s throat. Not enough to choke, though. Glaring, he tightened his fingers in warning.

“I should kill you where you stand,” Mehl snarled.

Vesset nodded. “Yes, you should. I have betrayed every oath I’ve ever sworn for my boy, but I’ve always accepted the consequences of that.”

“You were surely no paragon before,” Mehl said, and the healer flinched. “Or King Ryenil wouldn’t have chosen your family, would he?”

Beneath his hand, the traitor’s throat bobbed. “My youth was not well-spent.”

Perhaps Mehl should have asked more about that, but he found he didn’t care. There was a misspent youth, and then there was murder. One did not have to lead to the other. “How long have you been working with the king?”

“Since our queen rejected a betrothal between then-prince Toren and Princess Lora,” Vesset answered at once. “He believed Toren would be easier to manipulate. I’d heard little from him since the inheritance challenge began, but recent events have clearly spooked him.”

“I should kill you, but I won’t. I have another plan in mind.” Mehl glanced back at Toren, who nodded. “You’ll continue writing your letters while we find a way to extricate your son, but you’ll provide the information you’re given.”

He expected the healer to ask whether his sentence would be lighter, but Vesset agreed without a single question. Mehl was content to let him wonder. Gods knew it was what the traitor deserved for all the years he’d left Toren to wonder about his mother.

But once again, Toren proved more merciful. “At some point, you will be executed for murdering the queen. Your cooperation will only delay the inevitable.”

Mehl released the healer, who dropped onto his bedroll with a gasping cough. The chains clanked loudly as the man rubbed at his neck. “I am aware. If nothing else, perhaps it will earn me some mercy from the gods.”

Though his anger had hardly been assuaged, Mehl spun away and marched toward the door, pausing only for Toren to do the same. There was no peace in knowing. Not really.

Far too much had happened for that.

Chapter64

Patterns

Unable to settle, Ria circled the nearly empty throne room, only Sir Macoe there to watch from his place beside the door. She was too accustomed to crowds here, for the way her footsteps echoed in the silence spiked her anxiety to new heights. Why did it feel so wrong without the shush of fabric and hiss of whispers from the crush of courtiers, most struggling to hide their boredom? Or perhaps it was the absence of the kings, their presence a force even without Toren’s energy surging.

When the back entrance opened and Toren and Mehl strode in, Ria hurried over. But their expressions had her drawing to a halt when she was only halfway across the room. Pure fury pinched strain lines into Mehl’s face, and Toren appeared cold and closed off. Their meeting with Vesset must have been a tough one.

“What did he say?” Ria asked softly.

“He murdered my mother and had orders to kill our child and possibly you,” Toren bit out. “He claims it was to save his son, but it hardly matters. He could have come to me or even my mother to solve this centuries ago. He didn’t.”