by Dan Wingreen
Connolly's eyes bore into Elias's, but to the scholar's surprise they were filled with pity instead of rage.
"I did it for you too, Elias. The marchioness, I mean. So both you and my beloved Elladora would see him for the murderer and betrayer he truly is."
Elias blinked, unsure how to feel about being factored into a justification for murder.
"Why?" Elias asked.
The baron gave him a shaky smile. "Because you listened to me, that day in the library, and you told me which books would help me win my lady's heart. Because I saw the way you looked at the Dark Prince when he interrupted our conversation, how much you hated him, and I knew he was twisting you the same way he twisted my Elladora. You were both blinded by his magics, and I knew if you were reminded of who and what he is, you would come to your senses and be saved."
Elias held back a laugh. He had firsthand experience with being affected by the Prince's magics, and they were anything but subtle. Still, while insane, the baron's reasoning was almost…sweet, in a way. But sweetness wasn't always a quality to be praised, especially when one refused to temper that sweetness with logic and reasoning.
"And you used your alchemy so the death would be mistaken for magic," the Dark Prince said.
The baron warily nodded as much as he was able. "Yes."
"The one thing I haven't figured out," Elias said, "is how you found the letter. Did Dunbar show it to you for some reason?"
"Letter?" Connolly asked with a bemused frown. "What letter?"
"The letter where the Prince mentioned his magical abilities."
"I…never saw a letter."
Judging by the confusion writ across his too expressive face, Elias had little reason to doubt him. Yet that raised a new question. "Then how did you know the Dark Prince possessed magic?"
"Everyone knows the Dark Prince can call on foul magics," Connolly said, frowning at Elias. "It's common knowledge."
Elias barely held back a disgusted snort. "So it was prejudice, and not planning." He was somewhat disappointed. The baron's plan wasn't altogether unintelligent, and he had hoped for more meticulous reasoning behind Connolly's actions.
"His prejudice was correct, Elias," the Dark Prince pointed out. "What I want to know is how the baron got your guard commander to help cover up his murder."
"He didn't."
The Prince frowned. "Then why was he only investigating me? Was it because of his own prejudice?
"Not at all," Elias said with a slight smile. "In fact, you were the one to figure that part of the mystery out yourself."
"I did?"
Elias nodded. "Of course. It was your first theory, the one you refused to let go despite my insistence on it being wrong."
Understanding dawned on the Dark Prince's face. "You mean—"
"Yes," Elias said. "Of course, you were the one to refute the actual specifics, so partial credit still goes to me, since it appears coincidence played a much larger role in our conspiracy than you originally thought."
The Dark Prince snorted. "It appears so. Is that it, then? The whole mystery solved?"
Elias nodded again. "I believe so. The baron wanted you framed for murder so Elladora would 'come back' to him, which is why he killed the marchioness right after your public confrontation instead of just killing you…" He turned back to the baron. "How did you kill her, exactly? I know you used alchemy, but how did you touch her with an alchemical object without being seen? Was it one of the buttons?"
Despite the situation and his earlier terror of being discovered, the baron looked impressed with Elias's deduction and seemed amenable to further incriminating himself.
"Yes. Yes it was. I replaced one button on every dress she had, and when I heard about her argument with the Dark Prince, I activated them all with a code word spoken into a master button."
Elias raised both his eyebrows. That was incredibly impressive alchemical work, and judging by the look on the Prince's face, he agreed as well. It was truly a shame the baron never bothered to write a book or take on an apprentice instead of turning to murder. He was an exceptionally accomplished alchemist.
"Impressive," the Dark Prince said with a disdainful sniff.
The baron smiled suddenly, and Elias felt a small stirring of unease. Connolly was mentally unhinged; more than that, he was a coward. One who had literally wet himself at the very idea of retribution.
So, why was he smiling when his crime was discovered and confirmed from his own lips? And why was there almost no hint of madness in his expression?
"Do you know what would be even more impressive?" Connolly asked.
The Dark Prince narrowed his eyes, obviously recognizing the same shift in personality Elias had, but left the question otherwise unanswered.
The baron didn't seem to mind.
"Getting any of this to stick to me during a trial without any evidence."
Elias's stomach fell as his unease solidified into a helpless dread.
Because the baron was quite correct. They had no real evidence beyond a missing button, one coroner's opinion on a cause of death, and a story based on supposition and deductive insight. While all of that might have been enough to at least draw the official investigation towards Connolly in a normal situation, the guard already had their suspect, along with orders not to consider any others. And now that Elias knew where those orders came from, he knew they needed evidence that was much more solid than what they actually had. Elias wanted to hit himself for assuming they would find such evidence just lying around once they discovered the murderer.
The scholar now knew exactly how the Dark Prince must have felt when he poisoned all those vampires. While this wasn't Elias's first failure, it was just as spectacular, if not more so, than the Prince's.
And it was Ellington that would suffer for it.
Like he had been waiting for Elias to fully realize the extent of his failing, the baron broke out into tittering peals of laughter.
"I was right! You can't send me to jail!" he cried, giddy with relief and triumph. "And you can't kill me either. You said so yourselves. I'm…I'm going to get away with it." He laughed again. "I'm going to get away with it! I'm going to bring down the Dark Prince. Me! Evil falls at the hands of House Connolly. Oh, my beloved will have to come back to me now."
The baron laughed and laughed until his face was bright red and tears streamed down his round cheeks. He laughed like a man who had just discovered laughter for the very first time. He laughed like a man who had been lifted from the hangman's noose by the hands of the gods themselves. He laughed like a man who had just had his fondest desire handed to him by his greatest enemy.
Until he opened his eyes and his laughter trailed off into an uncertain cough.
Because while Elias was sure his face was showing the proper dismay and frustration this particular situation demanded, it took him but a moment to follow Connolly's gaze to see the face of the other occupant of the baron's quarters was not.
The Dark Prince was, against all reason, smiling.
"You…you…why aren't you crying?" Connolly asked with almost childlike confusion.
The Prince's smile widened. "I just find it amusing, is all."
"What's amusing?" the baron asked, his brow twisting into a frown.
The smile stretched into a grin, exposing perfect, white teeth that gleamed even in the dim light of the baron's sitting room. "That you think you're going to make it to a trial."
It was remarkable how quickly a face so red could pale.
"Highness—" Elias started.
"You can't kill me!" The baron shrieked. "You, you said so! You need me alive!"
"Actually," the Prince said, brushing an invisible piece of dust off his sleeve, "and I do find this amusing as well, the only reason we couldn't kill you is because we needed a live body to replace me in the dungeons. If there isn't enough evidence to put you there, there is little need to keep you alive."
Connolly started to shake as tears of a very dif
ferent sort welled up in his eyes.
"Ah, there we are," the Prince said. "Terror suits you so much better than victory."
"Highness—"
"Oh, relax, Elias, I'm not going to actually kill him," the Prince said, waving his hand dismissively.
Elias tilted his head.
"You're not?" both scholar and baron asked at the same time.
The Dark Prince chuckled before looking fondly at Elias. "Of course not. Like you said, my dear, we need to prove my innocence so my father doesn't crush your kingdom like a particularly crunchy beetle."
He turned his attention back to Connolly and the expression on his face became anything but fond.
"But like I said, there are varying degrees of 'living'."
The Prince's eyes blazed once again, and the baron yelped and shut his eyes, bracing himself for whatever was to come. The Dark Prince's lips twitched with amusement when all that happened was an inkwell, quill, and a piece of parchment dislodged themselves from various places around the messy room and came to rest in the Prince's hands.
"You can open your eyes, now," the Prince said dryly.
The baron shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter.
After a disgusted huff and another flash of purple, the baron's eyes shot open, his eyelids pulled apart so far the curve of his eyes were visible.
"Now," the Prince said. "The first thing that's going to happen is—"
"I can't blink." Connolly whined. "My eyes are burning!"
"Oh for—" The Prince glared at the baron before the fire in his eyes flared up again.
The baron fell to the ground as the Prince released the magic holding him in the air, but instead of trying to run or hide behind his chair like Elias had been expecting, Connolly got to his feet with odd jerky movements before standing completely still. Only his eyes could still move, and they blinked rapidly as they darted around in a panic.
"As I was saying," the Prince continued. "The first thing that's going to happen is you're going to write a confession."
The writing implements in his hands floated across the room before coming to rest on one of the small writing desks. With a small gesture from the Prince, the baron stiffly walked over, picked up the quill, and began to write.
"You will include everything," the Prince said, though Elias thought it was more for his benefit than the baron's. "Your motivations, how you committed the crime, and, most importantly, your intent to frame me. You will speak of your guilt at the taking of an"—the Prince's lip curled in distaste—"innocent life, and of your realization that you could no longer live with yourself. You will write that you intend to take your own life, in penance for the life you snuffed out."
"Highness." Elias interrupted. "A dead body and a confession might not be enough."
"Of course it will," the Prince said, turning the full weight of his burning eyes on Elias for the first time since they'd entered the baron's rooms.
Elias barely held back a gasp. Other than the night the Prince attempted to seduce Elias, he'd only ever seen brief flashes as the Prince used minor magic. Now that he wasn't furious or fighting a foreign lust, it was impossible not to notice the quiet beauty of the purple flames. They seemed to reflect the very essence of the Dark Prince himself; stunning perfection of form, with a deep reservoir of power and will behind the attractive exterior. Here, in a murderer's sitting room with the murderer himself less than ten feet away being magically coerced into writing his own confession/suicide note, Elias found himself more aroused than he had ever been in his entire life.
"I'm not going to make him kill himself, however."
Elias blinked rapidly as he forced himself to concentrate on the Prince's words, instead of the heat which pooled in his lower abdomen. "You—" Elias flushed slightly as his voice cracked. He swallowed. "You aren't?"
The Prince cocked his head curiously, but thankfully didn't question Elias's behavior. "No. A quiet suicide is more than he deserves."
Before Elias could ask him to clarify, the Dark Prince turned his attention back to the baron, who had finished writing. Elias keenly felt the loss of his gaze, and had to squash down a sudden, irrational spike of jealousy towards the baron.
"Stand in front of me," the Prince commanded.
Connolly walked over to the Prince and came to a stop. They were almost the same height, Elias noticed, though that was all the resemblance they held toward one another.
"I'm not going to kill you," the Prince said. Elias could see the relief in the Baron's eyes, even through the tears the Prince's magic refused to let fall. "I might have, if you had killed the marchioness solely as an attack against me, or if you had touched Elladora in any way."
The Dark Prince leaned in close to Connolly, the sudden, cold fury on his face made all the more terrible by the purple fire in his eyes.
"But you tried to kill Elias," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it was the kind of whisper that could quiet banquet halls filled with drunken revelers. "He is my intended, and I have borne insult towards him and hands raised against him without demanding the retribution which is my right as a royal Prince of the Dark Kingdom of Mournhelm. I have denied my nature and my upbringing because of a promise to my father, and because I refuse to insult Elias by implying he needs me to protect him from things that he's been handling with dignity and efficacy for more than half his life. But this is something which will not go unpunished."
The Prince paused, and only then did Elias realize he had been holding his breath, unwilling to disrupt the Prince's words with so much as an exhalation. He forced himself to breathe.
"But while death would be a release and not a punishment in itself, I am not without a measure of mercy." The Prince continued, his tone never changing. "I will not use my magic to rend your flesh or leave you to scream silently, trapped in your body in never-ending pain. Nor will I trap you within your greatest nightmare for the rest of your life, or any one of the dozen other horrors I could inflict upon you. No, instead of torture, I'm going to make your greatest fantasy come true.
"You will spend the remainder of your life locked within your own subconscious, your body functioning, but unresponsive to all external stimulation except what it needs to survive. Yet, inside your mind you will live out a full life, the very life you wish was yours, from birth to death over and over for as long as your body lasts. You will be attractive and respected, and Ella will love you above all others. You will have perfect children and you will raise them well, and they will love you unconditionally. All of your ambitions and desires will be fulfilled. You will lead what is to you a lifetime of bliss inside your mind, a lifetime that will pass in seconds to the outside world. And when your happiness has reached its peak, when you are old and beloved and looking back on a life that could not have been more perfect—you will remember that it is all a dream, that none of it was real; that you are a fat, unlovable murderer with no children and no wife. Everything that gave you meaning and joy will be torn away, and you will be left alone in darkness with the memories of what might have been. But don't worry, because the loop will start again…" The Dark Prince smiled, then, and somehow his expression was more terrible than anything he had just said.
"It will only take a few seconds. More or less."
Chapter 29
In the end, Elias and the Dark Prince didn't even try to speak with the King.
After magically repairing the Baron's door, the Prince pinned the confession to Connolly's robes and placed a broken piece of rope around his neck to simulate a botched hanging. Presumably, once the baron was discovered, it would be assumed his permanently unconscious state was the result of damage caused by his suicide attempt. To ensure said discovery actually happened, the Dark Prince set a spell which would make a loud crashing noise sound from inside Connolly's rooms whenever someone wearing plate mail passed by the baron's door. Since the guards were the only ones in the castle so adorned—and since the hallways outside the quarters of the minor no
bility were always patrolled by novice guards—the Prince was confident that when the baron was discovered he, and the note, would be entered into an official report before anyone higher up could think to attempt a cover-up.
Elias was less than convinced.
Yet, he had no other ideas, and so the Prince's plan was carried out under the carefully blank, watchful eyes of Chappy before all three retired to the Prince's quarters for the rest of the day. It took less than two hours for guardsmen to come pounding on the door, and after a short discussion where the Prince actually managed to restrain most of his personality, he left to be officially interviewed with a reassuring wink to Elias.
Elias was less than reassured.
He spent the rest of the day pacing throughout their bedroom, alternately worried about the Prince and infuriated with the royal for not just leaving for Mournhelm when Elias wanted to, regardless of how impossible an option it had been. Once dinner time had come and gone—and Elias had eaten a full dinner despite his utter lack of appetite, because the Prince would be upset with him if he skipped, of all the ridiculous reasons—and the Prince still hadn't returned, the worry had taken over, turning the normally reserved scholar into a coiled spring of nervous energy. Elias hated the feeling, in a way he hadn't hated anything since the first time the Dark Prince made him feel like he was losing control of himself.
And yet, somehow, he still managed to fall asleep before the Prince returned.
In the morning, Elias woke to the entirely disagreeable sight of a showered and immaculately dressed Dark Prince standing over him with a small, amused smirk and holding a tray piled high with the most delicious looking breakfast Elias had ever seen. Somehow in the ensuing argument—their first real one since before the beginning of their courtship—about certain people being inconsiderate, self-centered imbeciles and making other people sick with worry and not waking them up immediately upon returning instead of showering first, Elias managed not to upend the entire thing on the Prince's head.
Which would have been a shame, since once he calmed down and forced out an extremely embarrassed apology for his inexcusably childish overreaction, Elias rather enjoyed the breakfast.
