Prim watched Dante being taken away and once the bathing chamber door was shut, she turned to Kallia. She wanted to rage on the princess, but her friend wouldn’t respond to that. She would shut down, ignoring logic. So instead, Prim spoke calmly. “I know you trust him.”

Kallia took a deep breath and looked at Prim with sad eyes. “Prim, sweetheart, I need you to stop thinking with your heart and vagina and start thinking with your head.”

Prim ignored the insult. “You’re smart, Kallia. Sending him to the dungeons does nothing. He could use his gift to kill those three guards you want posted at his cell and shift into something tiny to escape if he wanted to. You trust him. Otherwise, you would have just had him killed. Why go through the charade?” Saying it outloud, Prim understood. “This is a test?”

Kallia booped Prim’s nose. “I’ll have the guards report what he and Blukke talk about, and I’ll see if he makes any attempt to escape. I’m sure he won’t, given he didn’t flee when he realized Roan was dead and he had no obligation to uphold their bargain.” Her voice softened. “He took care of you instead.”

The room was silent again at the mention of Roan. It didn’t seem real. Prim felt as though he would be walking through that door any minute to say it was some kind of misunderstanding.

“So you don’t really think it was him?” Tears were again welling in Prim’s eyes. She had a feeling her eyes would never be fully dry again.

The princess wrapped her arms around her. “Of course not. He wouldn’t have gone back to the dungeons if it was him.” Kallia pulled back to hold Prim’s face in her hands. “And I believe he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

Prim’s face contorted as she shook again with tears. How did Kallia manage to look so regal, even when she was crying?

Bristol approached. “So all that was real? You’re really in love with him? And he really kidnapped you?”

Prim wiped away her tears. “It sounds pretty bad when you say it like that.”

“It is pretty bad,” Bristol asserted.

But Kallia stroked Prim’s cheek. “I get it. The pressure of duty and responsibility can be crushing. It can make people do questionable things.” If anyone knew, it would be a royal. “Why did you say no?”

Prim twisted the beautiful sapphire ring around her finger--her right hand finger. Gods, why had she ever put it on that damn marriage finger? If she hadn’t, Roan would have remained her escort all day. Dante would never have gone to the dungeons to begin with. And maybe Roan wouldn’t have been in his room when his murderer came. Her chest shook again.

Kallia ran a comforting hand down her arm. “You can get married, you know. There’s no law saying a handmaiden must be a literal maiden.”

Prim shook her head. “He hates Hogard. I would never ask him to stay here.”

Bristol took a seat on a nearby chair. “You didn’t ask him. He offered.”

Prim turned her gaze to the other handmaiden. “But when he explained why he wanted to help Kallia--he said it was to get back to Pregg. Not for me. He loves Pregg. His family is there.”

Bristol shook her head. “Maybe that was the reason that day in the dungeons. You thought he didn’t want anything to do with you then, remember?”

Kallia gripped Prim’s arm. “He loves you, Prim. I think you’re his family, too.”

Blukke had said the same thing. But she couldn’t let Dante give up his life in Pregg for her.

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“This is a really stupid fucking thing to be talking about right now.” Prim shrugged away Kallia’s grip as her two friends exchanged a look. She tightened the robe Dante had put over her and thrust open the door, leaving them behind.

Prim was nearly to the outer door of Kallia’s chambers when the princess caught up, grabbing her elbow. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to my room to change and then I’m going back to Roan’s room to look for clues.” Prim didn’t look at her friend as she answered.

Bristol walked up behind Kallia, shaking her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. What if it’s not cleaned up yet?”

The image of Roan’s corpse and the puddle of blood flashed in Prim’s mind. “I’ve already seen it!” she barked. “I’ve already been covered in his blood.”

A hesitant throat cleared as Sarasha took a step from the wall. “Apologies for the interruption, but the room was being cleaned. That’s why Dante removed you. So the other guards could take care of the kern.” She took that step back and continued, her voice trailing off into nothing as she added, “Just thought you should know.”

Prim tightened her mouth in determination, nodding, and continued for the door, her two escorts making to follow her.

Kallia motioned to Bristol and they both followed after Prim, their four escorts following, Kallia’s having passed Dante off to some other guards to deliver him to the dungeons. “We’re coming, too.”

#

Roan’s door was still gone from Prim dispelling it, now his body and puddle of blood with it. But a dark stain on the stone floor remained.

The six escorts stood outside the open doorway, monitoring as the three women searched the room.

“You were here last. Before this morning, I mean,” Bristol said to Prim apologetically. “Is anything different?”

No. It was the same bed, neatly made. The same wardrobe. The same collection of weapons. Prim squinted, noticing an empty holder. “The dagger that killed him was his own.”

Sarasha stuck her head in the room, her chestnut hair swishing in the movement. “Yes, the guards who were here with us this morning had already determined that.”

Prim nodded. That must have been some of the talking she hadn’t listened to.

Kallia addressed the guard. “Was there anything else they were able to determine?”

Sarasha shook her head, but Prim answered. “The door was locked. That’s why I had to…” She nodded toward the doorway.

Kallia nodded, taking hesitant steps around the small room. “So we’re looking for someone with a gift that would allow them out of a locked room?” Like Prim’s. Like Dante’s--though his ability wasn’t a gift. “We keep records of all the gifts of those in our employ. It’ll take ages, but we can go through them to start a list of suspects.”

Prim didn’t think it was another guard or servant. It had to be related to the plot against Kallia. The timing was too coincidental not to be. She didn’t object, though. They had nowhere else to start.

Prim sighed, wishing Dante were here. He’d know what to do. She grasped Kallia’s arm. “How long are you going to keep him locked up? He could be helping us. Blukke, too. They know a lot more about crime scenes than we do.”

Kallia frowned. “Tomorrow. It needs to be at least twenty-four hours. It’s not like he’d try to escape after only a few minutes.”

Sarasha gave Prim a questioning look, which the handmaiden ignored. She wasn’t sure if the fae wanted to know why Dante would be familiar with crime scenes, or why he was locked up, or why he’d try to escape. In any case, she wasn’t going to explain.

Prim looked over the weapons and their holders, making sure there was nothing hidden inside any of the leather holsters or metal scabbards. She looked through the wardrobe, checking the pockets of all Roan’s clothes and running her hand along the sides and bottoms to make sure she wasn’t missing anything. She boosted Bristol up to check the top of the wardrobe, to make sure he hadn't stashed anything there. She peeled off all his bedding, looked under his mattress, dropped to her knees to look under all the furniture--careful to avoid the blood stain.

There was nothing, absolutely nothing in here to indicate any kind of intruder.

There was no vial.

There wasn’t even anything to indicate the resident had any kind of personality or life. Nothing to indicate the way Roan’s eyes twinkled when he overheard some juicy gossip or the way the corner of his mouth twitched up when the women were teasing each other--or him. Nothing to indicate he loved strawberry jam or hated lemon tarts. Nothing to indicate he would act outraged whenever Prim stuck her finger in his mouth when he yawned, but return the annoying, joking gesture whenever she yawned. Nothing to indicate he was a gentle and thorough lover or a fiercely loyal and protective friend.

Nothing to indicate he would lay down his life for Kallia and Wassalia--just as Prim would.

She stared at the blood stain.

No. There was an indication for that, at least.

Tears wracked Prim again.

Kallia put her arm around Prim’s shoulders. “There’s nothing here. We’ll go back to the castle and get to work on those records.”