Paradise Plagued

by Sarah E. Burr

  “Because I am not who you think I am.” Jax folded her arms in front of her and held back her shoulders, assuming the regal stance she had been taught to emulate her whole life. “I am Jacqueline Arienta Xavier, Duchess of Saphire and the Isla DeLacqua isles.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Nadir snorted back his astonishment, and Abra’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “How can we believe anything you say?” she hissed through gritted teeth.

  “Captain Solomon,” Jax said, holding her hand out to George.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, clear vial she had asked him to keep on his person during their stay. The antidote to the mixture Charles had concocted for her eyes. With a few simple drops, the murky dye washed away, and she fixed her amethyst gaze on the quaking Ogdams.

  “Good gods! Your Grace.” Nadir fell to his knees once more and pressed his head against the stone in a worshiping bow.

  Abra did not move and remained silent, her face ashen.

  “I apologize for the secrecy, but it was necessary for my security,” Jax continued. “Using the disguises of Lord and Lady Rapaste, my husband, the Prince Consort, and I thought we could enjoy a little time away from the palace. Sadly, it seems we were not as careful as we thought. I am consumed with guilt that Tarek Killiam paid the price, which is why I aim to bring his killer to justice.”

  From his keeled-over position on the floor, sobs shook from Nadir’s trembling body.

  “It seems we have been betrayed.” Jax stopped a moment to control the quivering in her throat. “I did not send a missive stating Lady Victoire preferred Soveignet chocolates. Someone, somehow, intercepted our messenger. Do you still have the documents?” she asked Abra. “May I see them?”

  Abra still did not move.

  “Mother,” Nadir croaked from the floor, “the Duchess asked you a question.”

  The elegant woman visibly straightened her shoulders, as if competing with Jax’s royal stance. “I do. They are in my husband’s study.”

  “Captain Solomon will accompany you.” Jax didn’t trust her to raise the alarm throughout the entire house that the Duchess of Saphire was present.

  George looked pained to leave her alone with Nadir, but she wordlessly reassured him she would be fine for a few moments. Even after they left, Nadir still sat crumpled on the floor. Considering his largely stoic nature from last night, she was surprised by his surging emotions.

  “I’m terribly sorry to have brought this fate upon Tarek.” Overwhelming guilt hit her, and she reached for a nearby chair to steady herself. “After I found the chocolates on my pillow, I brought them down to the pool to share with my friends.” She shuddered at what her act of generosity could have led to, as well as what actually did occur in its wake. “When no one wanted any, Tarek stopped by. He offered to take them back inside, and I completely forgot about them.”

  Nadir wiped a hand under his red eyes, and a small smile cracked across his lips. “He always had expensive taste. His father instilled that trait in him. He probably thought he was being so clever, nicking your candies right out from under you.”

  Pleased she had at least halted his tears for now, she straightened as George returned, followed by a tightlipped Abra and a befuddled Ferran.

  One look at Jax’s eyes had him blabbering and falling to his knees just like his son. “Virtues! Your Grace, it is true. I thought Abra was having heatstroke.” His hand flew to cover his heart. “A Duchess in our humble home. Oh, how poorly you must think of us.”

  She motioned Ferran off the ground, in the hopes that his son would follow, but Nadir remained seated there, tugging his knees to his chest. “It is you who must think poorly of me, Master Ferran, for having to spin such lies to escape my life in Saphire.”

  “These are dark times, ma’am, angst and rage all about. I don’t blame you for being careful.” He dug into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “This is the document Abra said you were looking for.”

  Jax took the parchment and unfolded it, stunned by what she saw. The seal of House Rapaste was inked into the header of the missive, just like it had been when she drafted the request a few weeks ago, under the guidance of her grandfather. He had provided enough details early on, establishing what house she and Perry would pretend to belong to so she could request the reservation. When it had left the palace, her note had said:

  Master Ferran of House Ogdam,

  The estate of Baron Rapaste writes to request two rooms starting the 20th day of this month. The estate knows this is short notice, but as this is the off season in Kwatalar, we hope accommodations can be made for a young lord of House Rapaste, his wife, and valet. Please send our messenger back with confirmation.

  The Barony of Rapaste

  Clutching the parchment tightly in her fingers, Jax read aloud the note’s contents before her.

  Master Ferran of House Ogdam,

  The estate of Baron Rapaste writes to request two rooms starting the 20th day of this month for Lord Arthur, Lady Victoire, and the lord’s valet. Please ensure House Rapaste is given the finest rooms available. Spare no expense. The estate will cover any fees necessary. Lady Victoire particularly enjoys Soveignet chocolates, and we would be most grateful if you ensure she receives them.

  The Barony of Rapaste

  Jax looked up from the document, her face slack. “This is a complete forgery.”

  The sound of footsteps outside the dining hall doors forced any replies into silence. Jax held her breath, and it wasn’t until Perry entered the room did she relax.

  “Everything all ri—” Perry stopped midsentence. He clearly received his answer from the somewhat dazed expressions on everyone’s faces. His gaze met her own and widened as he took in her natural eye color. “I guess the jig is up?” He walked to her side, obviously trying to put the room at ease with humor, but the attempt failed.

  She held the parchment out for him to read, and his face darkened as he combed the words. “This is what you received regarding our stay?” he asked Ferran, his tone brimming with authority.

  Nodding, Ferran replied, “Yes, Lord Ra—Prince Consort.”

  Perry waved away the title. “Please, if you must be formal, Lord Pettraud is just fine.” To Jax, he mumbled, “Darling, how in the Virtues does this document contain our identities? We didn’t even know them until a few days ago, ourselves.”

  Jax stewed on the very same concern. “It has to be my grandfather. He must have known what aliases he planned for us to use all along.” Her heart began to beat wildly at the crushing blow of betrayal. “I can’t believe he’d do this to me.”

  “I wish there was some other explanation.” He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, despite the prying eyes on them.

  She reread the document a few more times, not quite believing the looping words on the page. She hadn’t noticed it during her first read-through, but whoever the forger was had an interesting way of dotting their i’s. Instead of one dot above, there were two. At first, she chalked it up to a faulty quill, but it was the same over every single i. It stirred her memory. Where had she seen the same thing before?

  “George,” she said, looking up from the paper, “would you assemble the household, please?”

  As George nodded and turned to depart, leaving the Ogdams looking completely puzzled, Jax whispered in Perry’s ear. “I need to go up to our room for a quick moment and grab something. Can you keep an eye on things down here?”

  “What are you planning, Duchess?” Perry asked. A wary smirk flickered across his face.

  “I’m putting this mystery to bed.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Jax took the stairs two at a time, and before long, she was moving about the suite she and Perry shared, collecting her things. First, she changed from her swimming outfit into a more extravagant gown, illuminating her rank. Then, she grabbed the satchel that contained their original travel documents. Locking the door behind her, she flew back dow
n the steps, encountering Edrice and Ammon at the bottom of the landing.

  “We were just coming to find you when George summoned us from the archives.” Edrice examined the winded Duchess with a bewildered stare. “Is everything all right?”

  Jax ignored her question. “Why were you coming to find me?”

  “We believe we’ve found the poison used,” Ammon proudly stated. “We had already eliminated a few options by the time the Captain dropped off the chocolates. From there, our research was much more fruitful.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Excellent. What have you discovered?”

  ǂ

  Jax, Edrice, and Ammon were the last to enter the bustling banquet hall. The dining chairs had been arranged around the table to face one direction, so Jax placed her satchel down on the glistening top and ushered the Zaltorians to take their seats before standing in front of the gathered crowd.

  Ferran and Abra sat furthest down the table, gripping each other’s hands as if their lives depended on it. Nadir and Samira sat across the table from their parents, worry and confusion marring their attractive features. Perry, Uma, Hendrie, and Vita filled in the chairs between Louis, Alasdair, Ines, and Olavo, leaving Edrice and Ammon the two empty seats near the head of the table where Jax stood. George guarded the door, looking like he was prepared for all hell to break loose.

  “Good afternoon, all.” Jax smiled, intentionally keeping her gaze moving. Louis, Samira, Olavo, Alasdair, and Ines still did not know her true identity at this point. Well, perhaps one of them does.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your leisure activities,” she continued, glancing at Alasdair’s soaking wet frame. He’d obviously still been swimming when George summoned him to the meeting. “I’m sure you all are keen to know the resolution of poor Tarek Killiam’s murder.”

  Ines straightened in her chair. “You’ve caught the culprit already?”

  “All will be revealed, Lady Ines,” Jax said, her hands motioning for no more questions. “I wish it were as simple as one person to blame.” She reached—every eye in the room on her graceful figure—into the satchel and pulled an ornate scroll from its depths. Unfurling the parchment, she scanned it quickly, her keen eyes finding the evidence she had been looking for. “In fact, poor Tarek has been the unintended victim of a very elaborate scheme.” She turned her attention back to the group, holding the scroll in one hand behind her back. “You see, my companions and I determined Tarek died after ingesting poisoned Soveignet chocolates, delivered to the estate yesterday morning by your hand, Monsieur Louis.” She gave him a pointed look.

  The merchant’s skin lost all color. “What? Poisoned? Th-that’s impossible,” he stuttered, fear raging through his brown eyes. “I didn’t know, Lady Victoire. You have to believe me. I told you at lunch I could never tamper with my wares. I wouldn’t get paid if the cargo seal was broken. I swear I didn’t know they were poisoned!”

  Jax directed her next statement to the back of the room. “Madam Abra, you received the shipment from the tradesman. Were the goods untouched?” Everyone turned to see Abra’s response.

  “Yes, Your—my lady,” Abra answered confidently, at which Louis slumped in his seat with relief. “The Soveignet branded box was sealed.”

  Jax nodded her thanks. “Once they arrived at the estate, these poisoned chocolates then made their way to a pillow in my suite.” Ignoring the stunned looks bouncing around the room, and recalling her earlier conversation with Samira, Jax pressed on. “I can only assume the box was placed there by one of our hosts.” She walked the length of the table and stopped beside a profusely sweating Ferran and stoic Abra.

  “The reservation missive your estate sent requested it be done,” Ferran whimpered, terror building in his eyes. “I was simply following orders.”

  Jax tried to comfort the man as he completely dissolved into wailing howls. “I know, Master Ferran. You were simply following orders. Unfortunately, they were the wrong ones.”

  She turned on a heel and glided back up to the front of the room. “For those of you in the dark, the Ogdams received a request from my husband’s estate, detailing that Lord Arthur and Lady Victoire would soon be vacationing at the Oasis. The truth of the matter is, Lord Arthur and Lady Victoire do not exist outside these walls.”

  A puzzled murmur swept through the group.

  She gave the guests a calculated grin. “I would like to reintroduce myself to everyone. I am Jacqueline Arienta Xavier, Duchess of Saphire and the Isla DeLacqua isles.”

  The only audible response was that of Samira’s stifled gasp. Alasdair and Olavo had gone still as stone, while Ines and Louis quivered in their seats.

  “You have no idea how much my heart aches for poor Tarek, knowing he was poisoned in my place. Those chocolates were meant for me.” She let her amethyst eyes rove around the room, letting each person see the mark of her ducal heritage. “This was an open attack on a crowned sovereign. When I depart this estate, you can all tell your families and friends that you were there when the Duchess of Saphire declared the first war in the Realm of Virtues since the Rebirth.”

  Perry jumped to his feet. “War? Ja—Duchess, what do you mean?”

  “As I said before, dear husband, the crime of Tarek’s death cannot be pinned on just one person.” She picked up the forged missive the Ogdams had received regarding her upcoming stay. “Master Louis, please allow Captain Solomon of the Ducal Guard to escort you to your chambers to retrieve the requisition you received for the Soveignet chocolates.”

  The portly man trembled all the way out the door, quaking under George’s steely gaze. The banquet hall echoed with sounds of shifting bodies as everyone waited in the uncomfortable silence for the two to return.

  “Here you are, Your Grace,” the merchant squeaked upon reentering the room. He handed her a thick leather-bound ledger. “It’s the last entry.”

  Placing the tome down on the table, Jax flipped through the records until she came to the last one. Monsieur Louis had tucked the document in between the binding but had yet to tie it in, so she did not have to rip it out. She tenderly picked up the small piece of parchment, assessing those double-dotted i’s with grim satisfaction. The person who had written the forged request from House Rapaste was the same who solicited the merchant to move the poisoned goods.

  “I believe the saying goes, don’t shoot the messenger,” she said, giving Louis a grateful smile. “And in this case, we will spare you, Monsieur.”

  Her words of reassurance caused the man to sink to his knees, silent tears streaming down this face.

  “However, I cannot say the same goes for the one who writes the messages.” Jax’s eyes narrowed on her target.

  George placed a firm hand on Sir Olavo’s shoulder, rooting him in his seat.

  “Wh-what’s the meaning of this?” he barked, the only color on his face stemming from his flushed cheeks.

  Jax held the Soveignet order up to his face. “This script doesn’t look familiar to you?”

  Olavo didn’t even glance at the parchment. “No.”

  “What about this?” Jax picked up the discarded House Rapaste missive with the same hand and placed it on the table in front of him.

  “No.”

  Ines whimpered beside him.

  “Really? Well, perhaps you’ll remember this…” With the hand she’d been holding behind her back, she put the ornate scroll bearing the seal of Tandora in front of him. “You see, this is a strongly worded reprimand Duchess Tandora sent me about the ruckus I’ve caused in the realm with all my talk of equality and opportunity. Having heard from Delphinia’s lips herself at the Cetachi peace summit we both attended last year, I know for a fact the decrepit woman has not written a formal document herself since she became Duchess. And your boasting at lunch yesterday so eloquently revealed you are the one who puts her words to paper when she’s at home in her sandstone palace. Now, Sir Olavo, would you like me to pin the assassination attempt on my life solely on you, or perhaps, do
you have some light to shed on the situation?”

  The bravado bolstering the pompous man deflated, leaving him to sink into the depths of his chair.

  “Olavo,” Ines hissed, “tell me this isn’t true!”

  He stared hard at his sister, his features contorting. “What was I supposed to do, Ines? Say no to my sovereign? She demanded these documents, and I complied.” He turned and met Jax’s challenging gaze. “I swear on the four Virtues I didn’t know the deadly extent of her plan. I didn’t even know you were the Duchess of Saphire! Duchess Tandora simply asked that I draft a reservation request detailing for chocolates to be delivered to the room of a Lady Victoire from House Rapaste at Ogdam Oasis. She also had me arrange transportation for the chocolates, and with some research, I found Monsieur Louis was familiar with the area, so I figured I could count on him to make a successful delivery.”

  “What about the acquisition of poisoned Soveignets?” Jax kept her tone cool. She wanted Olavo to share as much as he knew, and there would be no use antagonizing him.

  “I didn’t know they were poisoned!” Olavo pulled nervously at his shirt collar. “My instructions were simply to have someone deliver the chocolates to Ogdam Oasis. The Duchess must have gone through other channels to have the chocolates commissioned. I swear, I did not know.”

  Jax tapped her chin as she processed his words.

  “Do you believe him?” George whispered in her ear, softly enough so Olavo couldn’t hear.

  She glanced at the ashen man. “My gut tells me he’s telling the truth about his involvement, but I think he’s keeping something from us.” She paced back and forth for a few moments, puzzling over the missing pieces. “Sir Olavo, your sister let it slip about Duke Beautraud’s repeat presence at Tandorian court. Tell me, did these document requests come before or after?”