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“My mother knows about us.”

Alia almost stumbled, luckily Talac covered for her. Good heavens. The Queen knew she was a woman of loose morals who’d spent the night with her son? Alia was going to be sick.

“I had to tell her everything, about the Beast, the attacks… and Soutner.”

Um.

“So, she knows…?”

“That I’m helping you kill him? Yes.”

No mention of the Queen knowing about their after dark bedroom activities, only her intention to murder Regal. Surprisingly, Alia found herself relaxing. Talac wouldn’t have told the Queen unless he trusted her. “So…?”

“She approves, says Soutner sounds ghastly.”

The Queen approved of her murderous plans?

“Although she did say if you get caught, you’ll be tried, condemned, and hanged just like any other murderer.”

“Of course.”

Alia followed Talac’s lead as he manoeuvred them to the right. It was a sedate, almost walking dance they were participating in on the massive front lawns of the Palace. A dance designed so that couples might chat and get to know one another under the watchful distant eyes of their chaperones. Or in Alia and Talac’s case, chat about assassination plots and how to get away with murdering an evil aristo killer.

Talac had gone to a lot of trouble to arrange this. Alia was his fourth partner tonight. Enduring a turn around the grass with each of the candidates just so he could get this private moment to chat. And the poor man still had three more dance partners eagerly waiting on the sidelines for their turn.

“Did you note Elliott Heathscote is here? Deacon asked around at the stables. He arrived a few scant hours ahead of us, to join his uncle for the festival. It seems the new Lady Heathscote is a cousin of Lady Niah, and they’re here to show support.”

“Yes, I had Raschion enquire of his whereabouts over the past few days. He’s been holed up in a nearby tavern playing cards. Fleecing anyone willing to play with him. He could have slipped in and out of the Palace unseen though. There’s a distinct possibility he’s behind the attacks on you and the one spreading rumours. You need to be on your guard tomorrow, out in the woods. You do still intend to go through with your plan, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Alia nodded, she’d shared with Talac in the pre-dawn hours her intention to use an untraceable arrow and shoot Regal Soutner during the proposed early morning hunt scheduled for first thing tomorrow.

“I don’t like it. Now Elliott’s in the picture. Not to mention all the candidates’ fathers and brothers will be wandering around armed… any of them could just as likely shoot you, and call it a dreadful accident after the fact.”

“We discussed this. You can’t be anywhere near me during the hunt. Too many people glom on to you, watch you, waiting for a moment to curry favour. The last thing I need is a crowd of witnesses present to watch me do the deed.”

“You need someone out there watching your back.”

“That’s why I’m taking Deacon with me.”

The musicians were winding up the song, their dance about to be over. Talac squeezed Alia’s hand tightly, drawing her attention upwards. His gaze tinged with a hint of concern in them that made her gut heat.

“Promise me you’ll be careful. If you don’t have a clear shot, you’re not to force it. Better to try again at a later date than give Soutner a warning of your plans.”

“I promise.”

The music stopped. Alia reluctantly released Talac’s hand, performing a hybrid bow curtesy that she had perfected that didn’t look too silly, given she was wearing trousers and a jacket. Talac proffered his elbow to escort her off the makeshift dance area, his arm flexing under her touch.

“What is it? Is something wrong?”

All Alia’s instincts were on edge following the near poisoning incident.

“No. Just caught sight of an aristo I despise. Pompous know it all who never shuts up about his obsession with ancient military footwear. I plan to introduce him to Miss Jacquene… another candidate who I have recently discovered I have an abiding brotherly affection for.”

Ten minutes later Alia was sipping mead and watching from afar as Talac and Jacquene completed their dance promenade, and he made a great show of spying a tall thin bookish man, leading Jacquene over to introduce her. The crowd erupting in fevered shock as after a short chat Talac placed Jacquene’s hand upon the aristo’s arm and pushed the two of them out on to the dance floor.

And then there were six.

* * *

Alia came to an abrupt halt by the light green flag at the forest’s edge. Crud. This was not the assigned group of hunters she’d been expecting to be paired up with.

“Lady Evagene. Lady Niah.”

“Lady Alia, good, now our party is complete we can commence.”

Evagene tugged absently at her red fitted jacket, that looked like a hurriedly made copy of the dark green one Alia was currently wearing. Niah similarly attired, but in sensible dark browns, looking much more relaxed, as if she was used to donning trousers and hunting boots. And from the way she wore her quiver on her back, the belt buckle tarnished from wear, all signs suggested she was a regular hunter.

Damn. Alia’s plans to slip away from her hunting party crumbled into dust as they began following their two Palace assigned guides into the Royal Woods. Three Palace servants trailing along in their wake. Out the corner of her eye Alia noted Deacon signalling her; what now? She replied with a quick few hand gestures, advising him to wait and be ready.

Perhaps there might come an opportunity they could take advantage of yet. Hunting was dirty, hot, and arduous work, she doubted Evagene was up to the challenge. Niah, on the other hand, given her lithe silent stride, looked like she was capable of surviving alone out in the wilderness for days on end.

Alia refused to get discouraged, there was still hope that by the end of the day Regal would be dead.

With that in mind, she sped up a little, crowding their guides slightly, forcing them to veer more to the right, in the direction she knew Regal’s hunting party would be located.

“My grandmother, the Queen-Dowager’s lady in waiting, always told me that lies cause wrinkles. Since the high tea yesterday, I’ve begun to question her words.”

Alia didn’t mind Evagene striking up a conversation and crashing through the woods like a wounded boar. The last thing she wanted was for her party to actually kill anything. Although there seemed little chance of that as the deer that inhabited these woods struck her as lightning quick and easily spooked.

“I mean, if that were true, then you would look much more haggard than you already do.”

Oh, that had been well done, both a slap concerning her looks and an accusation that Alia was a liar. Still, she didn’t slow her pace or in any way give an indication that she was bothered by Evagene’s digs.

“I have it on exceedingly good authority that you are the Beast of Gloomenthrall.”

The words rang loudly, full of venom, though losing a little of their emphasis as Evagene’s breath came in quick hard pants, as she tried to keep up with the pace Alia was making the guides set.

“What, not going to deny it this time?”

Okay, Alia saw the problem with her plan now. Allowing Evagene to talk was happily scaring away all the game, but unfortunately, it would also alert all the other hunting parties to their position and they would immediately head in the opposite direction.

Holding in a sigh, Alia finally looked Evagene’s way, fighting the urge to laugh. They were barely an hour into the hunt and the woman looked flushed and bedraggled. There were leaves and twigs in Evagene’s raven hair, and several smudges of dirt marring her new jacket.

Keeping her expression bland, her voice low, Alia finally responded.

“You are very brave, Lady Evagene.”

This provoked a small choked chuckle from Niah, that she promptly turned into a clearing of the throat.

“What do you mean by that? Why did you laugh?”

Evagene included Niah in her glare.

“I believe Lady Alia is intimating that if she were this Beast you speak of, then confronting her, in the middle of the woods, with very few witnesses around to protect you, is either the actions of someone very unwise… or very brave.”

“I’m armed.”

Evagene held her bow up, but her grasp on it was loose and clearly amateurish.

Quick, like lightning, Alia grabbed her bow from her quiver, twirled it with a flourish and then within a blink had once more holstered it back in her quiver.

“Weapons are only as good as their users. But tell us more of this Beast, what are they renowned for again? Razor sharp teeth, wasn’t it? And I’m assuming they would sport rending claws. A mindless ravening hideous creature, no doubt.”

Alia halted, the party coming to a stop around her, naturally giving her the role of leader.

“Awakening such a Beast makes you either very brave… or what was the other thing you said, Lady Niah? Oh, yes, very unwise.”

Evagene lifted her chin, eyes glittering with dark emotions.

“You would never harm me, I’m a lady.”

The two guides were the ones fake clearing their throats this time.

“I should imagine your bones would be just as tasty and useful to keep teeth razor sharp as a man’s. But this is growing tiresome, it’s the second time you’ve made this accusation. Where is your proof?”

Alia flashed a wide smile.

“I do not believe my teeth are particularly pointy.”

Taking a few more steps Alia leaned down, so only Evagene would hear her next words.

“But come at me again with this accusation and you shall discover how wickedly sharp my blade is, woman or not.”

She took a breath, paused, and then took a deep sniff.

“Look. Look. You are all witnesses, she’s smelling me like a hound sniffs their prey.”

“Lady Evagene… you didn’t happen to rub up against a shrub with pungent yellow flowers and leaves so dark they look purple?”

Evagene looking around as everyone in the party took a large wary step back away from her as Alia asked her question.

“Yes. What? What is it?”

Everyone in the party had retreated even further away now. Evagene’s gaze landing back on Alia who had also retreated several steps.

“Do you itch anywhere?”

“A lady does not scratch.”

But unbidden Evagene’s hand moved to her throat, and she began to scratch.

“You’re making it worse, don’t touch yourself, and whatever you do, don’t rub your eyes. You had an encounter with the yerisabe shrub. I suggest you find some mud right now and cover any bit of skin that itches. If you wait, blisters and welts will erupt, and the itching will drive you to tear at your skin.”

“You’re such a liar.”

Evagene appearing to be unaware she was scratching at her throat even more vigorously.

Damnation. Okay. This day could still be saved. The group would escort Evagene back to the tents set up at the edge of the forest, delivering her into medical care. And somewhere along the way Alia could feign sighting another hunting party and decide to join them.

“Everyone knows I’m the favourite. His grandmother is good friends with mine. Lady Cecelia personally chose me over my four sister and nine cousins. I’m getting hot.”

“Yes. It’s far too hot out here today. Let’s head back the way we came.”

Alia held her arms out wide, herding Evagene backwards a few steps.

“I’m the ideal Queen. I’m beautiful. I paint. Write poetry. My needlepoint is enviable. And I’m a consummate hostess.”

There were tears streaming down Evagene’s brightly flushed cheeks now.

“Why can’t I stop itching!”

She was all but clawing at her neck now.

“They will have something to help with the itching back at the tents.”

“You’re hiding something from me! Why don’t you want me out here? Is it Prince Zariffe? Is he here? Prince. Your Highness. Help!”

“I believe the Prince might be in that direction.”

Niah pointed back the way they came.

Evagene frowned, staring at Alia, then at Niah.

“You’re in this together. Trying to keep me from him. I shall find him myself.”

Cruddy hell. None of the accompanying footmen or the Palace guides were of any help, all backing away from a chaotic contagious Evagene. Alia herself wasn’t too sure how she was going to stop a frantic Evagene from rushing off into the woods, when thankfully Niah thought to stick her boot out and trip the woman. Evagene going down hard, remaining on the ground, dazed and confused.

One problem solved. Next was that no one wanted to help the woman up. Pointing at the nearest guide.

“You, give me some rope.”

Alia created a lasso and from a distance looped it over Evagene’s head, drawing it past her neck and shoulders. Then she pulled on the rope, tightening it. At least that would keep the woman’s arms trapped against her torso and mitigate the amount of scratching she could do. “And you.”

Alia cast the second guide a hard look.

“Give me the game bag.”

A few minutes later Alia had managed to stuff Evagene into the waxed calico game bag. Using the toe of her boot several times to roll a moaning Evagene until she could pull the bag drawstrings closed around her throat. Only the woman’s head remaining visible.

Excellent. Now several of the servants could carry a trapped Evagene back, whilst Alia looked for the right opportunity to slip away. Except all the servants had a peevish reluctant look on their face. Huffing out a sigh, Alia signalled Deacon. If he would carry the woman’s feet, then Alia would carry Evagene by the torso.

With every awkward step taken, retracing the path they had taken this morning, Alia knew her plan was disintegrating into an unrecoverable mess. There would be no slipping away. No seeking out Regal and shooting an arrow through his heart from a safe, discreet distance.

“You know.”

Niah walked along beside them.

“I don’t think I agree with Lady Evagene… about what she believes are the attributes required of a Queen. Frankly, I can’t imagine how painting or poetry would be of much use to the Realm… but being able to think and act during a crisis, that strikes me as very useful. To step up and do hard things, when others won’t. To do the right thing, even when it means helping a rival, or someone whose agenda does not match their own. That sounds to me like an exceedingly vital attribute for a future Queen of the Vallas Realm.”

Alia repositioned Evagene’s torso with a grunt, hefting her slightly higher. Thankfully she wasn’t struggling but her despairing quiet sobs made Alia feel like an overbearing bully. She was trying to help the woman, not hurt her further.

“What are you saying?”

She queried Niah, anything to get her mind off the dismal failure of this day. Perri was going to be so upset Regal wasn’t dead, she did so hate disappointing her sister.

“I’m beginning to think that perhaps I don’t wish to be Queen.”

“It strikes me as a thankless position.”

“Yet someone will eventually have to step into those shoes.”

“Are you withdrawing from the competition?”

“My family would never forgive me if I did… but I’ve begun to wonder whether lately if his Highness has come to think of me as a sister.”

Niah’s dark eyes were glittering with amusement, Alia unable to decide if the woman was laughing at her and this preposterous situation, or for some reason herself.

Deacon caught Alia’s eye, he definitely was laughing at her. He’d been avidly eavesdropping. Casting a pointed look down at Evagene, whose legs he was holding wrapped safely in the game bag, and then in Niah’s direction before mouthing his thoughts: And then there were four.

* * *

They were still ten minutes away from the staging tents when a horn blasted, signalling an emergency. Oh, good, one of the servants had raced ahead, except, as she repositioned her hold on a still quietly weeping Evagene for what felt like the hundredth time, Alia noted both Palace guides and all the servants were still present and maintaining a matching, cautious pace.

Alia wasn’t one for foreboding, but her gut tightened, as an awful feeling gnawed at her suddenly, insisting something bad had happened to Talac. The idea made her want to drop Evagene and run ahead to check, but she forced herself to keep trudging onwards, though picking up the pace a little.

They broke from the tree line to find the majority of onlookers and servants crowded around the perimeter of the furthest tent. Alia’s gaze zeroing in upon Talac, standing unharmed deep in the midst of the crowd. Thank the Deities above for his height, all the tension she’d been storing dissipating in a half beat of her heart.

Their little group trudged towards the crowd. Alia eager to find somewhere to put Evagene down and question someone in regards to what the hell was going on.

“Murderess!”

Alia looked behind her, nope, that gentleman was definitely pointing his finger in accusation right at her.

“He’s not dead yet, Makop.”

“As good as.”

A third man butted in, as the far edges of the crowd began to all turn and face Alia and her returning party. Condemnation and anger weighing heavily upon the air.

“It’s definitely her arrow.”

Someone had gotten hurt? And for some reason they seemed to think Alia had done the hurting. But they couldn’t convict her for merely plotting and planning to kill a man.

Please be Regal. Please be Regal. But even as Alia took up her inner mantra her gaze met Regal’s glittering inscrutable gaze, the man standing off to one side, surrounded by three young ladies who appeared to be having a silent but furious discussion regarding which of them got to faint and be attended to by the delectable Baron Soutner.

“Who?”

Niah demanded.

“Who has been hurt?”

“Baron Heathscote.”

“By that woman there. The hunt master recognised the fletching of the arrow.”

“And look.”

This time it was a lady who spoke up.

“She’s already killed another victim.”

“Say, that looks like Lady Evagene she’s carrying.”

“Evagene!”

The cry so shrill that a flock of geese some distance away took to the skies in response.

“My baby. She’s killed my baby.”

If Alia hands had been free, she would have pinched herself. This dream was horrible, she wanted to wake up. Watching in distinct dismay as Lady Poclete broke through the ranks, running towards them, her face a ghastly pale colour.

“She’s not dead.”

Alia advised.

“What did you do to her?”

The geese flew away faster, the Lady had a voice that carried when she was upset.

“Evagene? Genie?”

Lady Poclete tried to unsuccessfully wrest her daughter from Alia’s hold. When that didn’t work, she began working at the knot of the game bag tied just under Evagene’s chin.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Get away from her, you evil woman.”

Alia was oh so tempted to just let Lady Poclete have her daughter.

“You need to get back.”

Niah stepped forward, trying to shoo Lady Poclete off. Glancing at the crowd, edging closer, hungry for any more scandalous morsels. Niah shook her head, irritation threading her tone.

“And there’s no way Lady Alia could have shot Baron… Heathscote, she has been with me the entire time.”

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Baron Poclete, a florid rotund balding man pushed his way out of the crowd, his two sons flanking him.

“What’s wrong with my daughter? Wexan, Gullis, get your sister. And if that woman tries to stop you, use force.”

Alia rolled her eyes, okay, she was definitely dropping Evagene onto the damp grass and walking away. None of this high drama had anything to do with her.

“Get back.”

Lady Niah leapt forward to ward off the Poclete brothers.

“Lady Evagene has yerisabe poisoning.”

The majority of the crowd took an unneeded big step away.

Lord Poclete paled, before yelling fresh instructions.

“Don’t touch your sister, but for the love of the Gods, grab your mother.”

“My baby.”

Wailed her ladyship.

“Don’t worry.”

Alia assured.

“We got to her pretty early, she’d only just begun to itch, and I have her arms tied to her sides and the bag keeping her somewhat under control.”

Big tears rolled down Lady Poclete’s face.

“My baby is dying.”

“No, not dying. Just brushed up against a nasty shrub and would scratch herself raw if left unattended. Where can we put her?”

She looked to the clueless brothers and then the horrified father.

“There’s no reason to be like that, as long as you’re careful and don’t touch her bare skin until it’s been thoroughly cleaned, you’ll be fine. Yerisabe is a plant to be respected but not overly feared to be in anyway life threatening.”

“Yerisabe?”

Alia had never been more grateful to see her sister emerge from the crowd. Blood splatter spotting her dove grey dress, medicine bag clenched in Perri’s right hand.

“How’s Baron Heathscote?”

“He should recover, as long as the Palace sawbones doesn’t disturb the poultice I just applied. I heard your voice and left Lord De’Luca in charge of watching over the patient. Yerisabe poisoning, you say? Smart idea to tie her up in the game bag.”

Perri opened her medicine satchel, hunting through the contents, finally bringing out what looked like a medium sized salt shaker.

“Put her down right there. Best thing for it is the yerisabe leaves once they’ve been steeped for a month, dried, and then ground up into dust.”

She drifted forward, a grey wraith, holding up the shaker.

“Loosen the knot of the bag for me, would you?”

Over Lady Poclete’s protests Perri proceeded to shake several measures of dust into the bag.

“Tie it back up for the moment. It’ll take a little while to take effect.” Turning, Perri looked to the family. “In about two hours I suggest you cut her out of there. Bathe her. Burn the clothes she was wearing. Then apply another two shakes of medicine after wrapping her in a fresh sheet. Here, take the bottle. I have more. If she’s still scratching apply another dose every four hours. Unfortunately, it will take a week or so before the swelling, blisters, and welts to completely disappear.”

All the while Perri was addressing the family, Alia was aware of the hunt master steward questioning Lady Niah about their day’s activities, and in particular, focusing upon Alia’s movements. Thank all the Deities above she had failed to sneak away from her hunting party. If she had, in all likelihood she would be up on attempted murder charges right at this moment.

“Are you okay?”

“I should be asking you that.”

Perri dipped into her bag, producing another shaker. “Hands.”

Proceeding to dust first Alia’s as a precaution and then Deacon’s.

“Leave the dust on for at least an hour.”

“What happened to Heathscote? How did he get hurt?”

“No one knows. The horn blared. They appeared out of the forest carrying the body. The Palace surgeon and I had a vigorous discussion regarding treatment of the wound, which thankfully I won. Though I suspect it had more to do with Brandth discreetly threatening the man with a knife than my display of medical knowledge. Then someone claimed to recognise the arrow fletching as yours. There was talk of sending out a search party to hunt you down… and I believe that was about when you and your companions returned.”

“Luckily, I have a very good alibi and lots of witnesses. Where was Regal all this time? He doesn’t look like he was out hunting.”

“No. I heard him claim at the last moment that he’d hurt his shoulder riding, so he pulled out.”

“And Elliott Heathscote? Of everyone he has the strongest motive as the Baron’s heir, at least until the new Lady Heathscote gives birth. I’m sure he’s praying for a girl.”

“Elliott was here the whole time. Complaining loudly of a hangover and that unfortunately he felt too under the weather to hunt.”

“Both Regal and Elliott refusing to hunt today… that’s all a little too convenient, don’t you think?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

Alia moved closer to Perri, muttering under her breath. Though all the aristos were far too busy speculating and gossiping to pay any attention to them anymore.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Perri replied with complete conviction.

“It was a good plan.”

“Obviously.”

Alia mused with wry amusement.

“Since a number of other people managed to come up with it also.”

“Again, not your fault. Well, we’ve tried things your way… I think it’s time to try things my way.”

“You have a plan?”

“It’s beginning to take shape, yes.”

“You know, I would probably have more confidence if I could see your expression right now. Don’t you think it’s past time the scarf came off?”

Perri’s head shot up, Alia could sense her sister was grinning.

“You know, that’s a very good place for my plan to begin… I agree, the time for me to cast off my veil has arrived.”