Crown of Chaos

by Sarah E. Burr

  Ziri bristled. “There’s a fire in one of the guardhouses. Unfortunately, it is the one the escorts were assigned to. The Knights of Grace are working to contain the blaze.”

  The lump in Jax’s throat strangled her next question. “Is everyone all right? Is anyone hurt? Or missing?”

  The acolyte’s dark eyes were rippling pools. “All ducal escorts have been accounted for. The Lysandeirian and Zaltorian sustained minor burns, but Prelate Brath is an experienced healer and has already seen to their wounds. The rest are helping the Knights snuff out the fire.” She paused with a knowing look. “Including the gallant Captain Solomon.”

  A weight lifted off Jax’s chest as she sagged into her husband for support. Virtues, thank you. She swallowed back tears of relief.

  “And Captain Pettraud?” Perry’s voice quivered.

  Ziri dipped her chin. “Also fine. Now, I must insist you return to your rooms at once. With the Knights of Grace removed from their posts, it is not safe for you to be wandering the fortress.”

  A hard finality to her words made Jax realize it would be fruitless to try and convince the young woman to let them pass further and investigate the fire for themselves. “What caused the blaze, do you know?”

  Ziri shook her head. “We won’t be able to determine that until the fire is eradicated.” Her eyes narrowed. “Now, Duquessa, please do not make me repeat myself.”

  Grasping that she and Perry might be distracting the Knight from her given task, Jax nodded acquiescence. Tugging Perry by the arm, she backed away from the fort’s entrance, still feeling Ziri’s gaze on her as they slinked back inside. They didn’t bother spending their energy to close the massive gates. Ziri was enough of a deterrent to prevent anyone else from leaving the tower.

  “Why is she so determined to have us back in our rooms?” Perry murmured in Jax’s ear.

  She needed only a moment to puzzle it out. “She said all the Knights of Grace have been summoned to assist with putting out the blaze.” Jax scanned the empty foyer, the towering doors of the grand hall looming up ahead. “Which means none of the sovereigns are under guard.”

  Perry stopped mid-step. “Jax,” he said as he stumbled, “do you think…?”

  “The fire was set deliberately to distract the Knights?” Jax finished her husband’s thought. “Yes, Perry, I do.” Her gaze darkened as the unsettling reality hit her. “But distract them from what, I do not know.”

  Perry pulled her close to him, forming a human shield around her. “I wouldn’t put it past Savant to strike out and attack you, after the beating you delivered earlier.” His lavender gaze darted around the hall. “I don’t think it’s safe for us to return to our rooms just yet. Not unarmed, at least. Come on.” He drew her toward the doors of the grand hall. “I spotted several ornamental swords on display while we were in session. They won’t be sharp, but they’re better than nothing.”

  Jax stuck close to her husband, her eyes and ears on alert. Every flicker of shadow had her heart leaping into her throat. Was Perry right? Had Savant orchestrated the fire to draw her out, away from her guard? If so, she’d fallen right into his trap. Cursing under her breath, she admonished herself for her foolishness. She’d been so concerned about George, she’d given no thought to her own safety, the safety of Saphire. George would have her head if he found out she’d prioritized his well-being over her own. But really, how could she sit around when her friend was possibly in danger?

  Perry pressed a hand against the chamber door’s bronze molding and pushed. The massive structure shuddered noiselessly as it swung open, faint torchlight spilling into the circular chamber from the outer hall. “There was a coat of arms hanging over here.” He disappeared into the swirling shadows of darkness at the very back of the room.

  Jax followed him into the cavernous chamber, where she’d confronted her enemies mere hours ago. The burn of Henrik Crepsta’s betrayal ignited as a mirage of the scene appeared before her. Staring at his vacant chair, she conjured a ghostly image of the man she’d once thought to be a friend. His abandonment of their alliance wounded her deeply, more so than the insults thrown at her by Qylvard Savant.

  A clattering of metal drew her attention to the back of the room, where Perry had disappeared. “Everything all right, dearest?”

  A prolonged silence answered her.

  “Perry?” she called, moving deeper into the chasm of darkness.

  “I-I’m fine.” He did not sound fine. “Jax, tell me I’m seeing things.”

  She hurried to the outline of his tall form, wreathed in shadow, the torchlight from the entrance hall barely reaching this side of the room. “What is it?”

  With a decorative sword in hand, Perry pointed to the floor, drawing her curious gaze in the same direction. “That’s not what I think it is, is it?”

  Her hand flew to her mouth as she muffled a gasp. Even in the muddied darkness, she knew the distinct form well enough, as she’d come across one more times than she cared to count.

  “I’m sorry, dearest. But it looks like you’ve found a dead body.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Fetch me a lantern or a torch, will you?” Jax nudged a stunned Perry in his side.

  Snapping out of his stupor, he cocked an eyebrow in reply. “Shouldn’t we go fetch the Knights of Grace first?”

  Jax frowned at him. “The fire outside is still breathing. This man isn’t.” She could tell from the size and shape of the shadowy figure that the deceased was indeed a man. Who it was, however, remained shrouded in mystery. “Light, Perry. I need more light.”

  With a gentle push, she sent her husband on his way before turning back to the dead man. Not wanting to disturb the scene, she dared not pull him toward the light filtering in from the hall.

  Perry returned a heartbeat later with Ziri Axesinger close behind him. Before Jax could utter a word, he held up his right hand in surrender, his left bearing a flaming torch. “Ziri decided to come inside and make sure we went back to our rooms. She practically ripped my head off when she saw me still out and about, without you in tow. I had to tell her what we found.” He swallowed, the sound audible. “Or rather, who we found.”

  The acolyte slid wordlessly past Jax, bathing the scene with her own torch. “Virtues, Duquessa. Do you enjoy seeking out trouble?”

  Jax wanted to correct the young woman and inform her that it had actually been her husband who stumbled across the body, but the identity of the deceased stopped her short.

  The flickering flames revealed the lifeless, sallow frame of Duke Florian Hestes, his regal eyes frozen wide by death.

  Jax knelt beside Ziri, taking in the gruesome scene. “His throat has been slit.”

  Crimson blood pooled around the man’s head. Ziri touched a finger to Florian’s neck. “He’s still quite warm.” She shifted on her heels and dipped the same finger into the sea of red that spread from the gaping wound. “His blood is warm, too. He hasn’t been dead long at all. I’d say less than ten minutes.” The hardened experience in her voice told Jax she could trust the woman’s assessment.

  “Who in the name of the Virtues would have reason to kill Florian Hestes?” Perry asked, squatting on the other side of the Duke’s body.

  Jax pressed her lips together in thought. “Out of all the sovereigns gathered here, I’d never think Florian had a target on his back.”

  A lilting chuckle floated out of Ziri. “Agreed. The man was not known for ruffling feathers.” Her bronze eyes rested on Jax. “Except for yours, Duquessa. Rumor has it that Hestes abandoned Saphire in exchange for Savant’s Coalition of Right.”

  Jax’s gaze narrowed on the young woman. “Are you suggesting I killed Florian?”

  “No.” Ziri’s expression grew cold. “But I’d bet my blades your enemies will think so.”

  Jax bit her lower lip, inwardly acknowledging Ziri’s point. If Savant believed her to be behind Florian’s murder or simply promoted the idea among his inner circle, there would be no hope of r
eaching an agreement at the War Council that didn’t end in bloodshed. “Well, then, I’m left with little choice.” She met her husband’s gaze. “We have to track down the real killer.”

  “From the tales I’ve heard about your investigative escapades, Duquessa, I’d expect nothing less.” Ziri rose with fluid grace. “But I must report this to Prelate Brath and Duke Fangard. The security of the War Council has been compromised. I cannot keep this a secret from my superiors, for your own safety.”

  Jax nodded her understanding. “We’ll wait here and make sure the body is not disturbed.”

  Giving her torch to Jax, Ziri darted from the chamber in search of her commander.

  Still crouched low to the floor, Perry scooted closer to the wall, examining the area. “I think I found the murder weapon.”

  Jax hurried to his side, her amethyst eyes locked on the long, gleaming sword, caked with dry blood. “Rather careless of the culprit to simply leave it lying around.”

  As he ran the firelight up and down the long blade, Perry’s brow furrowed, the lines on his forehead more prominent than Jax remembered them being in recent months. “I agree with you, dearest. This seems very odd.”

  Jax leaned against his side, his presence steadfast and reassuring. She may have faced enough dead bodies to last her a lifetime, but it still didn’t mean she’d grown used to the grisly sight. “Look at the crest molded into the hilt.”

  Her husband’s eyes widened at her find. “He was killed with his own sword? But how?”

  Perry was right to be puzzled. Duke Florian Hestes had been a renowned knight in his youth, a revered warrior upon his ascension to the Hestian throne. A man whose blade was an extension of his own arm would not easily forfeit his weapon to be used against him…even if he suffered from rapidly declining health.

  Jax held her own torch out over the scene, banishing the shadows wrapped around Florian’s body. “The most sensible answer is that Florian wasn’t forcibly disarmed.”

  “You think he willingly gave his weapon away?” Perry cocked an eyebrow.

  “Remember what Ziri said? That my enemies would surely think I’d be behind this attack? What if Florian’s death was meant to plunge the War Council into utter chaos?”

  “More than it already has been?” A wry smile curled at the corners of Perry’s lips.

  She shushed him with a swat. “Florian would only hand over his blade to someone he trusted, someone he deemed an ally. Someone from the Coalition of Right. No knight would let their weapon out of their hands in the presence of an enemy.”

  Perry sighed his concession. “You do have a point. But we should check for any signs of a struggle just in—”

  “My, my, my, Jacqueline, the rumors concerning your reputation are true.” Qylvard Savant stormed into the chamber, his expression a sinister sneer. “Everywhere you go, death follows.”

  Perry stepped in front of Jax, the decorative sword he had procured from the grand hall extended in front of him. “What are you doing skulking around the fortress this late at night, Qylvard?”

  The Duke sniffed in displeasure. “That is none of your concern.”

  “I believe it is,” Prelate Brath bellowed as he and Darian Fangard entered the room. Fury unfurled in the prelate’s eyes as he took in Florian’s lifeless body. “I must ask you all to back away from the deceased. Any further contamination of the scene will only hinder our investigation.”

  “Investigation?” Qylvard scoffed. “No investigation is required, Knight. The culprit is standing right there.” He pointed an accusing finger at Jax.

  She bristled, but before she could speak out in protest, Ziri Axesinger emerged from the shadows behind her commander. “Duchess Xavier is innocent of this crime. She and Duke Pettraud have been under my watch for the past fifteen minutes, inquiring about the fires outside. The Hestian Duke had to be killed by another.”

  Qylvard growled. “How convenient the mudpuddle assigned to guard Jacqueline is her alibi.”

  Jax detected the slightest flinch from Brath and Darian at the use of the crass term for one who was common-born. Yet Ziri stood resolute, her chin held high.

  “The color of my eyes has nothing to do with the truth,” she purred in cool rebuke. “For I can see the same as you, Duke.”

  Qylvard’s cheeks flushed with deep, seething anger. “One of my allies lies dead at my feet. This summit was supposed to be a place of peace.” He spat out each word as if they left a bad taste in his mouth. With a swoop of his robe, he turned to Darian. “The sanctity of the War Council has been breached. You’ve read the by-laws. You know what this means, Fangard.”

  Darian held the man’s fiery gaze, his expression grim.

  Qylvard rounded on Jax and Perry. “It means civility has failed. Prepare yourself for war, Jacqueline. You will finally answer for what you have done.”

  Jax kept her face neutral, her mask firmly in place. “And you have finally gotten what you’ve wanted most: bloodshed. I see only one warmonger who benefits from this tragic turn of events, Qylvard.” She motioned a hand at Florian’s crumpled figure. “One who was conveniently wandering around the fortress alone and unwilling to provide answers to his whereabouts. Virtues, what will your allies think when they learn you have killed one of their own, simply to launch this war you so desperately crave?”

  Qylvard drew up to his full height, moving within an inch of Jax’s face before anyone could stop him. “There is only one person in this realm whom I want dead, but unfortunately, she still walks this earth.” His hot breath raked across her skin. “This is one murder you can’t pin on me.”

  “Then you won’t mind explaining why you’re out of your room at nearly three in the morning.” Darian glared pointedly at Qylvard.

  The steel in his voice made Savant flinch. “I-I—”

  Jax noted with curiosity that a crimson flush wormed its way up Qylvard’s neck and into his cheeks.

  “Speak, Qylvard!” Darian barked with chilling authority.

  By now, the Duke’s face was inflamed. “I-I had just concluded paying Delphinia a visit in her chambers and was heading back to my room,” Savant finally admitted, not seeming at all too proud of his alibi. He tugged at the collar of his nightshirt, drawing Jax’s attention to a rather large welt at the base of his neck.

  Not a welt…a love bite!

  Jax nearly snorted with laughter at the thought of the handsome, suave Qylvard letting Delphinia have her way with him. Perry’s face slackened with a cringing grimace, no doubt conjuring the same image.

  Ziri folded her arms, a smirk dancing on her lips. “You took rather a roundabout way back to your own chambers, Duke.”

  Having no idea where the other sovereigns’ rooms were in relation to hers and Perry’s, Jax waited with bated breath for Qylvard to explain.

  The Duke simply shrugged. “Delphinia will corroborate my story. After departing her room, I needed some time to unwind, so I took a leisurely stroll, only to come across this craven woman and her schemes.” His egotistical fervor returned, spitting in Jax’s direction.

  Prelate Brath’s jaw tightened. “We will certainly question Duchess Tandora and confirm you two were otherwise engaged during the time Duke Hestes was attacked.”

  Qylvard’s nostrils flared at the veiled mockery in Brath’s statement. With a glance over his shoulder at Florian’s lifeless body, he backed away from Jax and rounded on Darian. “Since your War Council has proven a diplomatic disaster, the Coalition of Right will take its leave from Fort Vyndheim immediately.”

  The prelate cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, Duke Savant, I cannot allow that. A fire outside has spread from the guardhouse to several areas of the fortress. Until the Knights of Grace have contained the blaze, it is not safe for any of the sovereigns to leave.”

  Qylvard stiffened. “A fire, you say? So, I am to remain trapped in this tower of stone with a killer on the loose?”

  The tremble of fear in his voice made Jax pause. Either the man
was a superb actor, or he was genuinely afraid he might be attacked by whomever ended Florian’s life. If that were so…then Qylvard had spoken the truth when he claimed he had not murdered the Hestian Duke.

  Perry’s fingers stroked her palm, drawing her attention to his wide eyes. She could see the same troubling realization in her husband’s gaze that she felt herself. If Savant hadn’t orchestrated the death of Florian Hestes to benefit his own gain, who in the Virtues did?

  Chapter Nine

  Prelate Brath waved Ziri to his side and conferred with her quietly before speaking to the others. “For your own safety, you all will be escorted back to your chambers, where you will remain for the time being. I can spare Acolyte Axesinger to patrol the corridors to ensure the remaining sovereigns are kept safe. Once the fire is contained, I will see to apprehending Duke Hestes’s killer.” The Knight of Grace looked weary with defeat. “We do not have enough resources, even with the help of the escorts who accompanied you, to juggle both at once.”

  Qylvard shook his head in disbelief. “A travesty. An absolute travesty. Bloody hell, Fangard, I never should have let Waylon and Delphinia convince me that a mudpuddle could handle the pressures of hosting a War Council.”

  “Duke Fangard,” Jax said, giving Darian the respect he deserved, “is the reason you’re still alive, Qylvard. If he hadn’t had the foresight to hire the Knights of Grace, then we’d all be at the fire’s mercy.”

  “There wouldn’t be a fire to begin with under my watch,” Savant snapped.

  Perry snorted. “Why? Because you instructed it to be set as a distraction? Maybe that’s why you were really wandering the halls so late at night. Checking your handiwork, eh?”

  Qylvard leered at him in response. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Pettraud. Just like you have no idea how to navigate this arena without clutching your wife’s skirts.”

  Raw anger radiated from Perry’s eyes. “Why, you bloody f—"

  “Please.” Prelate Brath held up a pleading hand. “I must ask you all to return to your chambers. I am needed outside. Acolyte Axesinger, see to it that the sovereigns make it back to their rooms and are locked inside.” He handed her a large, ornate key. Without another word, he hurried away.