Ebry was carrying a tray with a pitcher of wine and two cups when Edmon opened the door for Zandrue and let her into the salon. Ebry gave a low curtsy while not sloshing any of the wine. Zandrue was impressed. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to do that even if she were sober.

“He’s waiting for you in the study cabinet, my Lady. I was just taking this up to him.”

Zandrue walked over to the handmaid. “That’s okay, Ebry. I’ll take it up with me.” She took the tray from the girl, splashing wine about.

Ebry curtsied again.

“Oh, you don’t need to keep doing that. Not when we’re alone. Only do it when there are other people around.” Zandrue had to admit the curtsying was fun to receive instead of give, though.

“As you wish, my Lady.”

“And call me Zandrue!” she called back.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and looked up them.

Shit.

She really should have let Ebry take the tray up.

After the concert in the afternoon, she had gone with Annai, Tianna, and Laänne back to Annai’s apartments, where they had sung The Princess and the Squirrel together, as well as numerous other even more risqué songs—and they’d drunk quite a bit of wine. It had been a great opportunity to loosen up. Even Tianna had loosened up a little.

Unfortunately, that loosening up was not good for climbing narrow, winding stairs with trays full of wine. Every step she took caused the wine to slosh over the edge of the pitcher. The tray ended up with a significant puddle of wine on it. She hoped his Grace wasn’t offended—or maybe she hoped he was offended. That might even be funny.

Ardon was seated at the desk like last time. As she placed the tray in front of him, he reached for the pitcher, paying no attention to the spilt wine. “Ah, Zandrue. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to follow up on our last meeting. The last few days have been unusually busy, haven’t they? Wine?”

Zandrue shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“As you wish.” Ardon poured some wine into one of the goblets, then leaned back in the chair.

She had told herself that she was never going to drink in this man’s presence. Technically, she was keeping that vow now. Unfortunately, the point of the vow was to not be drunk in front of him. She was failing spectacularly in that regard.

Pheh, semantics.

Zandrue crossed to the window and stood by it again. It was dark out, so she couldn’t see much.

Ardon took a sip of wine, then cradled the cup in front of his chest. “I hope you’re doing well after yesterday’s harrowing experience.”

Zandrue shrugged. “Pretty well. I wasn’t hurt, and I’ve been through tougher situations than that.” She hoped she wasn’t slurring her words. He had to know she’d been drinking, but hopefully she could hide just how drunk she was.

Ardon smiled. “I know you have, but it seemed a good ice-breaker.”

“Any clues who was responsible?”

He took another sip of wine, then resumed cradling the cup. “Unfortunately, no. It was a strange attack, wouldn’t you agree?”

She agreed with him, but was having a hard time remembering why. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, there are more efficient ways to kill someone if you want them dead. I would have thought you’d realise that.”

“I do.” Well, she did now that she remembered. “But if you wanted it to seem like an accident…”

Ardon tilted his head and looked at her with slightly raised eyebrows.

Zandrue smirked. Her head was clearing a little as she forced thoughts through. “Of course, you’d want a situation where the dogs were going out anyway, and hopefully when your target doesn’t have assistance to survive it. I don’t suppose they could have been aware that Borisin isn’t an ordinary horse, and they’d expect Annai to have guards with her. Though she was more isolated there than she would be in the Palace proper, so it might be possible.”

“You don’t seem convinced.” Ardon took another sip of wine, then placed the cup on the table and leaned forward. “You suspect something no one else has even considered, don’t you?”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He was good. Though why did he suspect it? Shit, did he know she wasn’t human? Fuck, that would be bad. What could she do to put him off the scent? Oh, scent. She didn’t have his scent yet. Maybe she should get that. Damn, the wine was taking over again.

“Well?”

Zandrue took a deep breath and forced her thoughts in order again. “Everyone’s assuming Annai was the target.”

“And who else might it be?”

Was he patronising her? “Me.”

He smiled and leaned back in the chair again, taking his cup and sipping from it. “I think we can be reasonably certain you were the target, and we can be absolutely certain that it was an attack made out of opportunity and not planning.”

“Somebody just happened to see us go by, and decided on the spur of the moment to release the dogs with my—or Annai’s—scent.”

“As I said, an attack of opportunity. According to the handlers, the dogs were already quite agitated for several minutes before the attack, perhaps because of the storm. That might have been an additional opportunity the person responsible took advantage of.”

You do suspect, don’t you, you old dog? Well, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of being proved right. “Do you think it might have been Dyle or other Darkers he might have with him?”

Ardon was about to sip his wine, but he lowered the cup and frowned. “I don’t know. Any luck tracking him down?”

Zandrue shook her head. “You?”

He looked aside and sighed. “I’m afraid not.” He looked back at her. “I must apologise, Zandrue, for rushing off so suddenly at the man’s mention last time. He was…” He bought the cup to his lips again, but didn’t drink. “A variable I was unaware of.”

Zandrue watched him carefully as he drank the wine. He was either still perturbed at the news about Dyle—which meant he still had far less information than he wanted—or he was putting on a very good pretence. She had no idea how to tell which. “Even you can’t know everything.”

“That is true,” he said. “Now then, there is also the matter of Princess Sinitïa.”

Zandrue looked straight at him. “What about her? I’m sure you’ve heard what we told the King?”

He nodded. “Yes, I have, but I want to know from you anything you might have...forgotten.”

“You think we lied.”

“Did you? Did you perhaps provide the King with incorrect information about where Mister Drago might be? Perhaps you missed something?”

Zandrue crossed her arms. “If you think I lied, perhaps you should inform the King. Have him redirect his search elsewhere? Did you send the messages to Porthaven and Beldrum like he asked?”

“I did, and I’m not going to change them, no matter what you might tell me here.”

Zandrue watched him as he took a long drink of his wine. He clearly expected her to tell him something different than she’d told the King. What did he know or suspect?

He lowered his cup after a moment, and cradled it in front of his chest again, watched her through those deep-set eyes.

Zandrue shrugged without uncrossing her arms. “There’s nothing more to say. I told the King what little I knew. I still think we should focus more on the possibility she was abducted or killed. I certainly hope that’s not the case, but we shouldn’t eliminate the possibility until we know for sure.”

He placed the cup back on the desk and leaned back in his chair, head tilted, arms crossed on his lap. “Agreed. We mustn’t discount other possibilities.”

Did he believe her? And would that affect his opinion of her?

He half-smiled. “I see yesterday’s events have helped you get in Princess Annai’s good graces.”

Zandrue shrugged. “Well, it’s certainly made a better singer out of me. Did you know she’s actually a pretty good singer? I never would have expected it.”

He raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Everyone has talents, Zandrue. Even Annai. Rudiger, I see, is making headway with Princes Malef and Pastrin.”

“He is?” Shit, she shouldn’t have said that. Gods, Ardon was going to be a problem. He’d planned this meeting knowing full well she would have been drinking.

That was it. No more drinking—any time! For any of them! That included Quilla.

But Annai would expect it. Damn it!

She looked at Ardon and tried to recover her composure. “I’m glad to hear Rudiger’s doing well. I haven’t had a chance to speak to him since this morning.”

“What about Quilla? How’s she doing?”

Zandrue groaned and looked away. “We had a little argument.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Over a trivial thing. She’s stressed. I shouldn’t have pushed it. But I wouldn’t worry about it. She’ll get through this.”

Ardon nodded. “Yes, I’m sure she will.” He pushed the chair back, and stood up. “Thank you for this talk, Zandromeda. I won’t keep you any longer. I’m sure you’d like to get some rest.”

Zandrue bowed her head. “You’re welcome, your Grace.”

He bowed his head in acknowledgement, then descended the stairs.

Zandrue took a deep breath. Just what was that man up to?