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Re: Butterfly (Reincarnated as a Butterfly)
2-65. Confronting the Guilty Part 1

2-65. Confronting the Guilty Part 1

Adon kept Telepathy active as Rosslyn stepped closer to the entry to the knights’ barracks area. He knew he needed to be ready at a moment’s notice to read into people’s hidden thoughts and motivations.

If I ever wanted to be a detective, this experience will certainly satisfy that impulse for one lifetime, Adon thought to himself.

It had everything. Secrets, murder, life or death stakes for the investigation, even the emotionally fraught Queen who had almost become a dowager—and the King was not necessarily out of the woods yet.

So, his body was full of tension as Rosslyn knocked on the heavy metal and wood door to the knights’ barracks.

Even though night had now fallen outside the palace, the knock was answered instantly. A slender metal slat in the door slid aside, and a pair of suspicious brown eyes looked out at them—then switched immediately from suspicious to surprised.

“Princess! Your Highness, what are you doing here—um, if you permit such an impudent question. On second thought, never mind. It is typically customary for us to ask about a visitor’s business, especially at this hour, but I have no doubt that whatever you are here for, it is proper.”

He slid the slat closed, and Adon heard bolts turn and chains move.

Then the door opened from the inside.

A tall, thickly bearded man dressed in a linen gambeson stood before them, then hastily fell to his knees.

“Your Highness, welcome to the barracks,” he murmured. “How may we be of service?”

“Sir Ringan, treachery is afoot in the palace,” Rosslyn said in an urgent near-whisper. “Have you heard any news of the poisoning?”

The knight’s thoughts were all shock and dismay that anyone had been poisoned, and he quickly asked Rosslyn who was dead.

Adon sent her the word clearing the knight of suspicion, and Rosslyn smoothly led the conversation onward.

“I cannot share names just now, because we may be overheard by someone less loyal than yourself, Sir,” she replied. “I need brave and leal knights to accompany me as I investigate this crime. Men who will obey me without question and who are ready to sacrifice their lives to put down a threat to the Crown.”

Sir Ringan’s thoughts were remarkable to Adon. He could relate to them now, only because, after everything he had been through and learned, the butterfly did not value the same things about his lives that he had valued before. Rather than worrying first and foremost about his own survival, Adon wanted to have a life worth living—and perhaps a death for something greater than himself.

But Sir Ringan was there without needing to have a memory of every past life he’d ever had—as far as Adon knew, at least.

It is my chance to secure glory and be remembered for my service, the knight thought. Thank you, Goddess, for blessing me with this opportunity.

“My sword is yours, Your Highness,” Sir Ringan said, his voice ringing with pride. “I will follow wherever you lead. You will not find a man or woman here who will say differently.”

“I must speak to them individually,” Rosslyn said. “I have a method for identifying the traitors. The Goddess’s holy light is guiding me. But you must mention the circumstances of my visit to no one.”

We spread the idea among the common folk that our light magic is a sign of the Goddess’s favor, Rosslyn thought. It does seem to function better when you believe you are acting in the Goddess’s service, but there have been some rulers in our family who were far from devout who were nevertheless quite powerful with it. But the mythical understanding will serve us tonight.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Sir Ringan said, bowing deeply and lowering his sword to his side. “I will bring the knights out one at a time, then.”

“Two by two should be fine, I think, Sir Ringan,” Rosslyn said. “We must move quickly before the would-be assassin manages to escape justice. When you go to bring people out, do not even tell them who is waiting for them.”

He nodded and rushed to follow her orders.

You really have a strong command of the soldiers, Adon transmitted admiringly once the man was gone.

It is my most essential function, Rosslyn thought. If the men do not respect you, you sit on a precarious throne.

Sir Ringan rushed back in, accompanied by men who Rosslyn identified for him as Sir Taskill and Sir Walrick. Both men’s eyes widened at the sight of the Princess.

Sir Walrick was the first to speak. “Your Highness, what brings you here at this hour?” he asked.

“Treachery in the palace,” Rosslyn replied instantly. “Have either of you men heard news of the poisoning?”

Poisoning? My Goddess! thought Sir Walrick.

So, the Emperor’s assassin has moved, thought Sir Taskill. What will he want me to do, I wonder? Is the Imperial Army about to besiege the city? As soon as the Princess is gone, I will need to get a message out to inform the Empire of the success of the poisoning.

Adon pulled on Rosslyn’s hair—gently but firmly—to make sure he had her attention, then sent, Sir Taskill is a traitor!

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The man was speaking at the moment that Adon sent his message.

“This is unthinkable,” Sir Taskill said. “Is it confirmed there was a poisoning—not just a bout of illness? It is hard to believe—”

“Sir Taskill, I know that you are involved with the Empire’s plot,” Rosslyn said. Adon heard an incredibly quick movement as she drew her sword and pointed it at the knight’s throat. “Seize him!”

Sir Ringan moved first. As Sir Taskill’s hand was groping for the sword on his belt, the bearded knight tackled him to the floor. Sir Walrick moved next, pouncing on Sir Taskill’s sword hand and breaking his grip on the blade hilt. Rosslyn quickly moved in and stepped on the other hand that was going for the man’s sheathed dirk. Her foot crunched down so hard that Adon was fairly certain he heard the sound of bones breaking in Sir Taskill’s left hand.

“Argh! What—what is the meaning of this, Your Highness? I—I have done nothing wrong, whoever told you I was a traitor is lying, I—”

“I know it from your own lips, Sir Taskill,” Rosslyn replied.

The man went silent, lips pursed tightly, body slumping in defeat.

“The Emperor’s paymasters are open-handed,” he said. “You men, you could make a great deal of money if you work with me against this—”

“Silence, dog!” Sir Ringan growled, slamming his fist into the man’s mouth. “Some of us have honor.”

Rosslyn smiled. “Thank you, Sir Ringan. Sir Walrick. Please throw this man into a cell right away. We will need to place others in cells, but we will want each prisoner as isolated from the others as possible. They are to be questioned later, and they should have no opportunity to communicate and coordinate. Please bear that in mind.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” said Sir Ringan.

“Um, as you command, Your Highness,” said Sir Walrick, who sounded very confused.

Rosslyn stood at the entrance to the knights’ barracks, not wanting to advance further and give away her presence, until the two knights had returned.

Then the procedure repeated, though for the most part less dramatically, until she and Adon had investigated the remaining over a hundred knights. This took hours.

It uncovered only one other knight with compromised loyalties, who was likewise incarcerated. The remaining knights, however, were reliable to Adon and Rosslyn’s satisfaction.

Rosslyn ordered a half dozen to guard outside the chapel, another half-dozen to protect the other members of the Royal Family, eight to accompany her and provide her with backup, and the rest to spread throughout the palace, block all exits, and prevent anyone from leaving the palace until they received further orders from her or the King.

She instructed them carefully on routes to take through the building to avoid being seen by the young lords or any other nobles who were staying at the palace. Almost above all, Rosslyn did not want the nobles to realize what was happening.

Then she and her hand-picked bodyguards left.

I will turn off Telepathy for a little while, if that’s all right, Adon sent. He was starting to tire mentally, and although he had allowed the Transformation to lapse during certain periods of the evening, he hadn’t had any similar chance to take a break from using Telepathy.

I understand, Adon, Rosslyn thought. I appreciate your endurance so far. Please let me know when you have recovered enough to continue.

Will the knights still be all right if we keep them working through the night? Adon transmitted—perhaps thinking a little naively, even he realized.

No one will sleep until the traitors are all identified and placed under lock and key, Rosslyn thought in reply. None of them have balked at the demands I have made, either. These are men and women who know their duty.

Adon felt another little surge of admiration for how hard core Rosslyn and the Kingdom’s knights were, but he simply replied with a quick Talk to you soon.

They walked in near silence for some minutes, the knights surrounding Rosslyn on all sides and marching in a rhythmic lockstep.

No sooner had Adon informed Rosslyn that he was ready to resume their effort than she pivoted down into another hallway. She was immediately ready to test more people.

They were in a noble section of the palace, it quickly became apparent, because it was not the area where the Royal Family lived, and the man whose door Rosslyn knocked on was apparently named Lord Callum—a key advisor to the King.

Fortunately for Rosslyn’s sanity, his mental reactions to the news seemed normal to Adon.

There was a poisoning? And Rosslyn herself is investigating? That can only mean the victim was the King. Damn it! How did the Empire manage to place someone so highly?

Once Adon had cleared Lord Callum of suspicion, she sent him to the chapel to confer further with the King, though she spoke in oblique terms. She referred to the King as “your distinguished friend,” which—as she explained in her mental dialogue—was a theatrical reference that she knew Lord Callum would understand.

Rosslyn did not waste much more time in the noble section of the building.

The nobles do not handle menial tasks like preparing other people’s food, she explained. The typical spy or assassin would be someone low-born anyway. Lord Callum is one of very few nobles who would have the ability to do something like this to the King. I would still like the two of us to explore the loyalties of our nobles in the future, but the urgency is to find the assassin. I know we must conserve your energy by focusing on that task.

It struck Adon that Rosslyn herself might have been an excellent spymaster in another life. There was a great logical organization to the way she cleared people—she had started with the people closest to the King who were essentially not plausible as suspects, meaning the Queen, then proceeded to investigate the military and remove any disloyal knights, then used the already awakened military force to lock down the palace.

And, of course, she had begun by finding Adon so that she could use his Telepathy to her advantage.

It was as if she was playing a strategy game and slowly cutting off all her opponents’ potentially dangerous moves.

The group strode into the servants’ quarters, and Rosslyn quietly ordered most of her knights to move to block the exits. She led the remaining force down a long, dark, narrow corridor.

This is the moment of truth, she thought. It is almost certain that someone among the staff was involved in this long term plot to poison my father. It would have been impossible otherwise.

She shook her head, and Adon felt and saw the weariness in her posture.

I do not understand it, Rosslyn thought. He has been as good as any man could be in his position. Kind and generous. Perhaps too trusting—almost to a fault. But is this the sort of man that one would choose to betray and even attempt to murder? Even the person who hates him most in the world would have to admit that she is not justified in those feelings, if she is truly honest. Adon saw a mental image of a middle-aged woman whose image appeared extremely tough and who had a hateful look in her eyes.

He wanted to respond to what Rosslyn was saying, but he sensed that she was really talking to herself more than him—and he didn’t know what to say anyway.

What could make it better that someone had tried to murder her father?

Rosslyn’s hand was steady as she knocked on the first door.