The Ducal Detective (Ducal Detective Mysteries Book 1)

by Sarah E. Burr

  The Ducal Detective

  Sarah E. Burr

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Sarah Burr

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Printing, 2017

  www.sarahburr.com

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Dedications

  Chapter One

  A forlorn gaze from Arnie told her what she needed to know. Her request to delay the reception had not been granted, meaning her people were waiting for her to appear. She so desperately wanted to return to her rooms and toss the heavy crown off her head, but she knew that would only fuel the rumors of her petulant immaturity. She would stand before the gathered crowd and appease them with a night of dancing and frivolity, when all she wished to do was let herself mourn for her mother and father. She thought it crass she had only been given a week to steel herself from her emotions, but she knew time was not on her side. She had to show the realm that the duchy was in capable hands, hands that did not tremble at the mere thought of her unwanted responsibilities.

  Jacqueline Arienta Xavier, Duchess of Saphire, reached for the hand of her faithful lady-in-waiting. “Do you think they even considered postponing? For virtue’s sake, Arnie, they only died seven days ago!” Her words caught in her throat, still unable to fully comprehend that her beloved parents were gone.

  Arnie, her amber eyes full of sorrow in the candlelight, sighed, looking up at the brilliantly molded ceilings, gold and silver twinkling above them. “Courtier Jaquobie nearly laughed at the suggestion, I’m afraid to say.”

  The duchess snorted at the mention of the High Courtier, a man who had been a constant thorn in her side since she learned how to walk. His barrage of manners and etiquette training always spoiled her fondest childhood adventures, and now, he was using the leverage of royal protocol to sweep her mourning under the rug. She often wondered if the man had any heart at all. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least. Very well, then, let’s get this horrific evening over and done with. I want all these people on their way home by dawn.” She gathered up her beautiful ballgown, the design planned upon her birth. The royal coronation gown. She never believed she’d be wearing it so soon. She had foolishly thought her father would retire of old age, handing her the throne after she’d had years to explore her duchy and have adventures of her own. She’d only graduated from the Academy five years ago, and five years was not nearly enough time for her to have her fill of fun before her ducal duties tied her down for life. Momentarily lost in thought, she stroked the silky cream and gold fabric with her fingers, tracing a pattern through the diamond accents. She and her mother had refined the design of the dress over the years, always making some minor change as her tastes developed and matured. Years ago, the dress had been pink as candied sugar, for virtue’s sake.

  Arnie leaned in, placing a reassuring gloved hand on her shoulder. “Jax, I can tell Jaquobie you are not feeling well. You are the duchess, now, after all. You can do what you want.”

  Jax looked up at her oldest friend, smiling at the familiar nickname. “Thank you, Arn, but you just said yourself, I am the duchess now. It’s not as simple as being able to do what I want anymore. I am a prisoner to the title.”

  Arnie rolled her eyes, not bothering to mask her fiery temper that often got both of them in trouble when they were younger. “A prisoner? Please, let’s go look at the ducal dungeons and see what being a prisoner really looks like.”

  Jax glared at her lady-in-waiting, causing her friend to remember her place and silence her queued-up political rant. “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful for my lot in life. I know I am far better off than most people.” She brushed a strand of shimmering caramel hair out of her face, tucking it back up under her crown. “It’s just that I miss them so much. They were supposed to help me through all this when the time came.” She felt her eyes mist over as visions of her parents danced before her.

  Arnie, too, couldn’t stop her eyes from watering, biting her lip for chastising her dear friend. “I know you miss them, poppy. We all do. They were truly great people.”

  Jax wrapped her trembling arms around Arnie’s slender figure, pulling the woman close. “Please don’t leave my side, peach. I can’t do this alone. Not today.”

  Arnie smiled fondly at their pet names for one another, which had originally been bequeathed by their nannies growing up. Jax, for her favorite flower, and Aranelda, for her favorite snack. “You’ve lost your mind if you even think I’d leave your side. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

  Giving her one last squeeze, Jax pushed back from Arnie and nodded in confidence. “I’m ready.”

  Arnie approached the royal guards posted at the ornate door to arrange for the grand entrance. Jax could clearly hear the murmurs and speculations of her impatient guests from the other side of the door, the ballroom no doubt filled to the brim with noblemen and commoners alike, all anxious to see their new duchess in the flesh. It had been a few years since she’d last attended a palace event, wondering if any of her subjects would recognize the scrawny, awkward teen she’d once been underneath the regal woman she presented herself as now. After she graduated from the Academy, she convinced her father to let her study in neighboring kingdoms every summer, allowing her to advance her political savviness and prowess all while giving her time away from the scrutiny of her own duchy. She’d flourished into womanhood during this time, the unwanted spotlight no longer shining in her eyes everywhere she went. She’d spent her days in the world’s most beautiful libraries, museums, and galleries, her mind open to all things new and exciting. She’d been on tour in Hestes, a stunning southern province, learning about their rapidly expanding wine trade, when she’d received word about her parents.

  “Your Excellence,” Arnie’s familiar voice trumpeted an unfamiliar title, “we are all set.”

  Jax straightened her shoulders, her dazzling amethyst eyes locked on the doorway. This would be the first time in her entire life where she would be the only one in the room with purple eyes, the mark of the ducal line. In recent years, she’d always managed to find her father’s gaze in the crowd, his tender expression a reassurance. Her mother, the eldest daughter of the Duke of Mensina, also bore the trademark purple eyes, although hers were tinged with the slightest bit of amber, evidence that her own mother, Duke Mensina’s deceased wife, had been a high-born lady not of a ducal line. “I am ready.”

  With a curt bow, the two royal officers pulled open the grand door, revealing the elaborately decorated ballroom. Gold and silver streamers cascaded from the domed ceiling, twinkling in the bright candlelight from gaudy candelabras placed strategically around the room by the palace staff. Purple irises, the royal flower of the ducal table, stood at attention on every open surface not occupied by food and wine. The evening stars sparkled through the high arching windows, painting a fantastic scene before her. If Jax had
not been completely heartbroken, the sight would have taken her breath away. But as her anger at being forced to attend such a lavish event was at an unprecedented high, she could not bring herself to marvel at the splendor. She simply floated in as she had been trained to do by Jaquobie and his cronies since childhood, waving demurely from the ducal balcony to the vast array of citizens below. Their cries of jubilation and devotion fell on deaf ears, Jax overwhelmed by her crushing loneliness. If Arnie hadn’t been beside her like a shadow, she might have very well turned around and run. But her friend’s calming presence eased Jax’s breathing and the duchess maintained her composure as she descended the elegantly swooping staircase and onto the dance floor.

  Unsure of what force restrained her people from swarming around her, Jax made her way through throngs of whispering figures, each bowing low, not daring to meet her eye. Her path to her high-backed chair seated on top of the gilded platform was unobstructed and within moments, she was perched overlooking the sophisticated chaos. “Greetings, my beloved citizens,” she purred whimsically, her mouth going stale at the lie, “I am honored to host this coronation celebration, just as I am honored to serve as your duchess. I can only hope to fill half of the shoes my father and mother left, and I hope you will join me by raising a glass to honor them this night.” Like a puppet, she raised a sparkling glass of sweet wine to the stars, her royal eyes fighting back a torrent of emotion. She glared rather harshly at the crowd, prompting them to cut their whispers and giggles and join her in a moment of reflection.

  “To her most illustrious highness, the Duchess of Saphire!” Courtier Jaquobie’s weasel-like squeal broke the silence, inviting the people to repeat the devotion. Jax found the man’s dark amber eyes staring her down, filled with so much contempt, they were almost black. She never understood how her loving and gentle father could tolerate such a man in his presence, let alone trust him with the education of his only child. Looking at him now sent a chill down her spine, tortuous memories of his lessons assaulting her thoughts. She dared not give him the satisfaction that he’d rattled her, so she merely looked away and nodded her head in thanks to the crowd for their affirmation.

  “Please, enjoy the evening’s festivities,” with a wave of her hand, the music resumed from the quintet in the back of the room. She sat down on her glowing golden throne and watched as the hundreds of party goers began dancing and milling about once more. Arnie approached from her right shoulder, her face a mask of reverence.

  “Shall I fetch you any refreshments, Your Grace?”

  Jax rolled her eyes privately before turning to smile at her lady-in-waiting. “I’m fine for now, Lady Aranelda. Why don’t you see if you can ascertain any new gossip from our friend the Earl of Crepsta?”

  To Jax’s delight, Arnie’s eyes brightened and she bowed her head gratefully at the young sovereign. It was no secret that Arnie and Earl Crepsta had mutual feelings for one another, ever since Jax and Arnie spent the summer at the Crepsta estate. Jax did her best to facilitate diplomacy meetings after that, so that the earl and Arnie could continue their affair.

  Watching her friend slink off to meet her beloved, the duchess released a sigh. She was hoping that the Duke of Crepsta, one of her father’s oldest friends, would request Arnie’s hand in marriage on the earl’s behalf, who happened to be his nephew. Now that Arnie had been elevated to the Duchess of Saphire’s lady-in-waiting, her eligibility had skyrocketed across all the duchies. If someone requested her hand in marriage before either Duke or Earl Crepsta made a claim, Jax would have a troublesome time as a sovereign saying no without inciting ill will between the duchy nations. As a friend, she of course wanted her dearest companion to marry for love, but both knew that their titles took precedent over their own feelings.

  Jax watched Arnie sneak up behind Earl Crepsta, informally known as Hadrian, and tickle his side discreetly. His shock turned to obvious delight when he realized she was beside him. They made such a striking couple. Arnie, with her long chestnut hair, coppery skin, and near-gold amber eyes, was one of the most beautiful women in the room. Hadrian was imposingly tall, with sunflower blond hair, fair skin, and impressive muscles covering his athletic frame. His eyes, too, were a striking golden amber, for he was Duke Crepsta’s nephew by marriage, not ducal blood. Observing them tenderly embrace one another in all their beauty, Jax felt a stab of annoyance at the Duke not moving faster to secure the marriage and his nephew’s happiness.

  When the match was finally made, it would mean she’d lose her closest friend and companion, for the earl would no doubt take his new bride back to his estate in Crepsta. The thought of Arnie not being there beside her quickened Jax’s heart in panic, but she could never ask her surrogate sister to give up love for the sake of her duties as lady-in-waiting. It was an unspoken vow between them, that once Arnie was married and living abroad, they’d continue to find ways back to each other, no matter what.

  “Your Excellence, shall I find you a dance partner for the next number?” Courtier Jaquobie’s steely voice infiltrated her daydreams. His long, pointy grey beard looked like a dagger, ready to slice through anyone who got in his way.

  “No, thank you, Jaquobie,” Jax left out his title, just to see him fume at her indignant tone. “I’m not really in a dancing mood at the moment, with the death of my parents and all.” She took a long drink of wine, savoring the taste.

  Her flippant remarks sparked fire behind his dark eyes. As a child, she was terrified of his nearly black gaze, but now, as a duchess, it just fueled her ego. “We are all very sorry about what happened to the Duke and Duchess, Your Grace. Please don’t mistake our adherence to age-old traditions as indifference.”

  Jax stared the man down, surprised at the lack of malice in his voice, and more so, in his eyes. In all her anger and pain, she forgot that her father had been like a brother to Jaquobie, and that the High Courtier would no doubt miss his dear friend. She was about to beg forgiveness for her rudeness, when Jaquobie gave her a curt bow and turned on a heel, leaving her alone once more.

  The night wore on in similar fashion. Most of her guests were too entranced by their own frivolity to speak with her directly, and when they did, the conversation was stilted and strained. Jax didn’t know many of her own people enough to speak with them conversationally. She and her father had bargained that once she turned thirty years old, she would return from her worldly studies and settle down in the duchy, becoming more familiar with her own people for when she assumed the throne at forty. That had been their plan, set down what felt like so long ago. She remembered her father’s advisers in an uproar that their princess was to be sent away to explore the world, and now she knew why. She and her parents had been so foolish to think that they had all the time in the world, and now, she was a stranger in her own home.

  “Your Grace, perhaps it is time that you retire?” Arnie’s honeyed voice trickled into her ear, pulling her attention away from the empty wine bottle by her side.

  Relieved that at long last, her friend had returned to her side, Jax nodded hopefully, pushing herself off the throne with a restrained haste. “Yes, but let the ball continue on. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. It’s hardly fair for me to ask them to end it just because I’m miserable.” Jax tried to make her tone light and breezy, but her final words were biting.

  Arnie tucked her arm under Jax’s, tipping her head close to the duchess’s ear. “I think you’ll find that most are drowning their sorrows in the wine, poppy. The mood out on the dance floor was very subdued. Your parents have not been forgotten. They were loved by all.” Arnie reassured her, stroking her gloved arm.

  The wine Jax drank to pass the time clouded her vision, her stomach growling, dangerously empty. “They’re probably sad that they’re stuck with a sovereign they hardly know, who made it well-known that she enjoyed being away from this wretched place.”

  Arnie tutted beside her, leading her out the gilded door. “You were a child, Jax. Just give the people a chan
ce to know the woman, the duchess, you’ve become, and I’m sure they’ll love you just as much as I do.”

  Looking at her lady-in-waiting, she couldn’t help but let a few tears fall down her cheeks. “What did I do to ever deserve such a wonderful friend, hmm?” Jax leaned in and gave Arnie a sloppy hug, quite unbefitting of a royal. “Now, tell me, has Hadrian convinced his uncle to ask for your hand in marriage, yet?”

  Arnie halted abruptly in the long, airy corridor, her face beet red. “Oh goodness, I was hoping to have this conversation tomorrow.”

  Jax yelped in giddy glee, clapping her hands like a toddler. “Oh my, you simply must tell me what’s going on! I demand it!” She pompously requested, trying to summon her regal posture as the wine quickly wreaked havoc on her senses.

  Arnie gave Jax a reproachful glare. “Absolutely not. How much did you have to drink tonight, anyways? You’re knackered!”

  An evening of drinking her sorrows away to pass the time caught up with the duchess, who sank to the carpet, giggling, her gown fanning out all around her. “I…am…not!” She huffed in mock indignation, dissolving into a fit of laughter.

  Sighing at her like a weary adult coaxing a devious child, Arnie motioned for two of the royal guards to help Jax to her feet and carry her to the ducal chambers. The walk through the castle, which normally would have taken ten minutes with all the stairs and hallways to cover, dragged on and Jax was nearly asleep in a drunken stupor by the time the guards arrived at the east wing doors.

  “I’ll take it from here, boys,” Arnie sagged under the weight of Jax’s slender body as she half-dragged her into the depths of the room. Not bothering to undress the duchess in her current state, Arnie tenderly laid her out on her lavish four-poster bed, big enough for a family of five. “I’ll leave some water by your bedside, Your Grace.”

  Even on the cusp of sleep, Jax could detect a bitterness in Arnie’s words. “I’m sorry I’m such a bother, peach. I just miss them so much.” Clasping her hands sluggishly to her face, Jax dissolved into heart wrenching sobs, the wine unleashing all her pent-up despair.