The Four Tales

by Rebecca Reddell

  Setting a few books on a corner table, Wren straightened and watched Ellie begin cleaning up. Sighing, she faced Sybelle and walked to the desk.

  “I didn’t do this,” Wren whispered. “I know you think I did, but I didn’t. I came in here for a few minutes, left, and went to my room. I would never demolish the library. It’s one of my favorite rooms, too.”

  “I believe you, Wren.”

  “You do?” Her eyebrows raised in shock, and she bit her lip. It wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting.

  “Yes, I do. We’ll discuss it more in a few minutes. Let’s clean this up for now.”

  “Okay,” Wren nodded, and they got started.

  Wren placed the books back on the shelf in alphabetical order. She kept thinking about Sybelle agreeing with her. It was a first, and she didn’t know what to think.

  Did Sybelle believe her because she did it herself?

  Davies came in with the other maids and three footmen. He came to the Queen’s side and whispered something to her. She nodded and set the stapler on the desk before walking out of the room.

  He wound his way over to Wren. “Princess, there is hot tea in the dining room. We will take care of this. Please go allow the cook to serve you.”

  “Davies, I know you saw me come in here, but I didn’t do this. I want to stay and help clean up,” she whispered back.

  Bowing his head, Davies added, “I know you didn’t do this, Princess. I would never accuse you. However, I would be most pleased if you would go have some tea. Supper will be ready within the hour, and I would prefer you to allow me to handle this mishap.”

  Wren looked around the room and sighed. “I will leave, but I feel bad leaving you all to clean this up. I promise I didn’t do it.”

  “No one would even think to accuse you, Princess. Least of all me.” He patted her arm before clearing his throat and bowing once more.

  Knowing what he meant, Wren nodded and left the room. She didn’t want to go to the dining room and have tea with Sybelle, but she didn’t have many other choices. Wren noted the guards in the hall. She saw and past by four before entering the dining room.

  “The guards are going to be more visible,” she mentioned, before taking a chair and pulling a teacup closer.

  “I think it’s necessary for them to be more visible. Also, I’ve considered getting a security system. Your father was remiss in thinking of those things.” Sybelle took a sip of tea.

  “Like cameras? Sybelle, that’s an invasion of our privacy. It’s bad enough they’re all over the outside perimeter. I don’t want cameras inside my own home,” Wren set the tea pot down with a thud.

  She put her hands in her lap and squeezed them. They were shaking. It reminded her of school. Pushing the thought aside, Wren swallowed.

  “I wouldn’t put them in our rooms, but the public areas need to be better monitored. I can’t keep having things happen like this. Your father was murdered in our home. That alone doesn’t make me feel safe any longer.”

  “Have you looked into the guards or asked the chief constable to do so?”

  “I’m sure he’s already thought of it,” Sybelle replied. She set her teacup in its saucer and sighed. “I don’t want to tell the chief about tonight. He might suspect you. Davies can’t lie.”

  “I’m not asking anyone to lie for me. I’m telling the truth whether you believe me or not.”

  Sybelle nodded. “I do believe you. If you did it, then it’s a family matter and outsiders shouldn’t be brought into it. If you didn’t, all the more reason to set up security cameras in the common areas.”

  “I’m not certain I followed all of what you just said. However, if you don’t believe I did it, there shouldn’t be any reason for us to hide it. I didn’t do it.”

  “I believe you. It’s why I’m not saying anything because it will only make things look worse for you.”

  “I don’t need your pity,” Wren stated, looking her stepmother in the eye. She wanted to rant at Sybelle, but it didn’t feel right, and she wanted to know if Sybelle was behind the library ransacking.

  “I’m not giving you pity. I’m trying to show you I’m on your side.”

  Wren turned to her tea and took another gulp. The heat coated her tongue and throat. It wasn’t hot enough to burn, but it was warm enough to make her feel comforted. It took off the chill she’d felt when walking into the library. They continued to sip for a few more minutes without speaking.

  Davies entered the room after Sybelle had poured herself another cup. “Queen Sybelle, Princess Wren, we have the cleanup underway. Would either of you like anything?”

  “No, thank you, Davies.” Wren shook her head.

  “Davies, is Captain Ward ensuring the guards are keeping to their posts?” Sybelle inquired.

  “Yes, he is. He already gave me a copy of their schedule rotation. He agreed they should be more within your line of vision. The police have sent their two officers, and Captain Ward has them patrolling the grounds.”

  “Excellent,” Sybelle told him. “Supper is going to be ready soon?”

  “Yes, my queen. The food will be prepared in another half hour. The cleanup should be finished within the hour as well.”

  “Thank you, Davies.”

  “Of course, Queen Sybelle.” Davies bowed before turning to enter the kitchen doors.

  They finished their tea, and Wren sat wondering if she should go to her room or just stay at the table. Sitting with Sybelle wasn’t high on her list of fun ways to pass the time, but it might be a good way to see what her stepmother might be hiding.

  “What did you do after I left the dining room earlier?”

  “Excuse me?” Sybelle asked. She set her tea cup down and lifted her eyes to Wren. “Are you insinuating I went into the library after you left and threw a hissy fit?”

  “No,” Wren said. “I just wondered where you went, if you might have seen who went into the library after me?”

  “Oh,” Sybelle said. “No, I was in here making a few more notes, and afterward, discussed the week’s menu with Mrs. Anwyn and Mrs. Elis. I didn’t leave this room until Davies came in and alerted me to the situation in the library.”

  Wren nodded. Swallowing, she couldn’t think of any other questions to ask without accusing Sybelle of something. If her stepmother had been in the dining room the whole time with the cook and the housekeeper, she’d have been seen by servants as they entered or exited the kitchen. It would have been a small window of opportunity for her to rush out and tear apart the library.

  Somehow, Wren didn’t see Sybelle doing that. However, she didn’t know who else to suspect. If her stepmother had an accomplice, she might have asked that person to do the dirty work for her. If Sybelle knew she’d been in the library earlier, it’d be a perfect time to set her up.

  Unless the queen really wasn’t involved, and someone else was the culprit. Wren didn’t know who to suspect besides her stepmother. The woman had so much to gain from the king’s death, and Wren being accused. It was hard to wrap her mind around how Sybelle was pulling it all off.

  “I’m going to look into the cameras tomorrow, Wren. I think something needs to be done, and I don’t want either of us to be harmed in our own home. The kingdom needs to know we’re going to carry on your father’s legacy.”

  Wren could only nod again.

  Davies came through with a new pot of hot tea. He took the old pot with him. A few minutes after that, Wren spotted him going through the hallway toward the library. She knew he must have exited through the servant’s door to avoid going through the dining hall again.

  Wondering if that’s how he saw her earlier, Wren turned further and kept looking through the doorway. After a few minutes, she saw the maids and footmen begin to disperse. They entered the hallway outside the dining room doors, and Wren watched them follow each other out of sight.

  “Did you have anything you’d like to discuss, Wren? Do you have any input on the security or ideas of who could
have done that to the library?”

  “No,” Wren said and shook her head. “I don’t want cameras in our home. It’s going to make me feel more uncomfortable than I do now.”

  “More uncomfortable than knowing there’s a murderer in our midst?” Sybelle countered.

  “I guess not,” Wren agreed. “I just hate being watched.”

  “I can completely understand,” Sybelle told her. “If it makes you feel any better, when we find the murderer, I will keep the security system and disable the inside cameras. Is that something you can agree to?”

  Taking a deep breath, Wren nodded.

  “Good, I’m glad we can coincide on this. I’ll talk to Mr. Gabriel about it tomorrow. Captain Ward already informed me of the current security measures and the company your father obtained for the outside cameras. I know the chief constable took the videos from the night of the murder.”

  “Will Captain Ward contact the security company then?”

  “No, I’ll ask Mr. Gabriel to take care of it. I feel we need someone outside of our home to be in charge of this. Do you have any suggestions?”

  Sybelle had never asked her for her opinion so many times in one setting. In fact, her stepmother never asked her for her outlook on any situation. Normally, Sybelle thought up the plans and made sure the king agreed with her. Wren wondered if it was a ploy to divert her suspicion.

  “I can’t think of anything else,” Wren told her.

  “All right then. If you think of something, let me know.”

  Wren nodded as Bryn entered the room. She threw a slight smile at Wren as she brought a tray to the table and began setting plates and glasses at their places. Bryn loaded the tray with the tea service as Sybelle pushed her cup away.

  After Bryn left, Davies came in with a pitcher and filled their water glasses. “Would you enjoy something else to drink this evening, Queen Sybelle?”

  “Mrs. Anwyn has made the roast beef this evening, correct?”

  “Yes, Queen Sybelle.”

  “I think the Merlot, Davies.”

  Davies bowed and nodded. “Princess Wren, would you like something other than water?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Bowing again, Davies moved back into the kitchen. Bryn returned with a salad for each of them and disappeared once more.

  “This looks delicious,” Sybelle commented and took a small bite.

  “It does,” Wren responded in her customary way.

  She pushed the tomato around in her Italian dressing. The fresh flavors made her realize she was really hungry. Devouring the cucumbers, every bite made her want to moan.

  “Wren, please stop acting as if you haven’t eaten in days.” Sybelle’s frown jerked Wren back to the table.

  Head down, she ate every bite while Sybelle continued to slowly pick through her own. Ten minutes later, Bryn returned to take their plates and came back with Davies behind her. While she refilled their glasses, Davies served pancetta crisps with goat cheese and pear.

  Feeling as if her mouth was watering, she couldn’t chew the appetizer fast enough. It was salty-sweet, and the goat cheese gave it such a perfect balance. She ate three of them before cutting herself off from having more.

  “These are delicious,” Sybelle told her before taking another bite. “I wonder where Mrs. Anwyn got the recipe. She told me how much she loves a site where there’s a variety of recipes she can try.”

  “Really? Well, she made a great choice with this. What did Davies call it?”

  “I think he said it was a Pancetta crisp. I loved the goat cheese with the pear. It’s nice she’s thinking outside the box.”

  “Agreed,” Wren nodded and took a sip of her water.

  “How are you coping, Wren?” Sybelle asked and set her fork down.

  Taken by surprise, she stared at her stepmother for a few seconds formulating a response. “I’m doing as well as can be expected, thank you.”

  Sybelle nodded. “You’re holding it together much better than I expected after the first day.”

  Uncertain what she meant by this, Wren bit her tongue and just nodded.

  “It’s nice to know we’ve come to an understanding about how this family should act at this time. I’m sure your father would be proud of you.”

  Swallowing, Wren sat back in her chair. She folded her hands and squeezed. For a few seconds, she pictured them around Sybelle’s neck.

  Bryn and Davies returned. Bryn picked up the plates and Davies set new ones before them. The main entrée of roast beef, baked potatoes, and Brussel sprouts smelled so good, Wren forgot to be angry at her stepmother.

  Picking up her spoon, she tackled the baked potato filled with butter, salt, pepper, and sour cream. “This is to die for,” she said.

  “Wren.”

  “What? They are,” she said.

  “Yes, I’m sure. Mrs. Anwyn’s baked potatoes are always delightful, but I’d prefer you make your statements without using death as a comparison.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  Sybelle nodded at her, and they continued to eat. When their main course was finished, Bryn came back to pick up the plates. She took Sybelle’s wine glass as well since she usually only drank one per meal.

  Davies returned as well, and asked, “Would either of you like dessert? We have fresh strawberries and peaches with homemade whipped cream.”

  “I think that sounds fine, Davies. Please bring the coffee as well.”

  “I’m not sure I can eat another bite,” Wren said. “I’m surprised I ate as much as I did.”

  “Well, Mrs. Anwyn outdid herself this evening. I think it was a nice note to go out on. Would you like to retire to the library this evening or head straight to your room?”

  Wren took a few seconds to consider it. This was another unexpected question. Sybelle didn’t ever give options.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go to my room.”

  “Of course,” Sybelle gave a nod.

  Bryn entered with the dessert tray and placed the cups of fruit in front of them. She added a dish of fresh whipped cream as well. Davies followed her and brought a fresh pot of coffee and fresh cups. He poured for them and set a sugar bowl and a creamer full of milk in front of each.

  “Thank you, Davies,” Sybelle told him.

  “Thank you,” Wren added.

  After they finished their fruit, Sybelle began to drink her coffee. “Wren, I will be prepared to leave at nine in the morning. Will you be able to join me?”

  “Yes, I’ll be up.”

  “Excellent. Well, since you’re going to your room, I will say goodnight and wish you a good evening.”

  “Thanks, you too,” Wren told her. “I’m going to head to my room then.”

  Sybelle nodded at her and continued with her coffee. Outside the dining room, Wren spotted Mrs. Griffith coming around the corner from the library’s direction.

  “Hello, Mrs. Griffith,” she greeted the older woman.

  “Princess.” She curtsied to Wren before folding her hands in front of her. “I’ve made sure the library has been prepared for you and the Queen. Is the queen ready to head to the library?”

  “I think she’s finishing her coffee,” Wren answered.

  “May I do anything for you, Princess?”

  “No, thank you, Mrs. Griffith. I’m sure Ellie’s waiting for me.”

  The older woman sniffed and gave a nod. “I’m sure she is.”

  “Have a good evening, Mrs. Griffith.”

  “You as well, Princess Wren.”

  Nodding, she turned from the older maid and walked across the open foyer and to the stairs. Feeling the woman’s gaze made her uncomfortable. Mrs. Griffith was one of those women who scared you with one look. She’d always had a disapproving eye on Wren and didn’t like Ellie any better. Wren was certain if she wasn’t the princess, Mrs. Griffith would have helped Sybelle find another home for her.

  At the top of the stairs, Wren knew Mrs. Griffith’s eyes were stil
l on her. She turned and started up the second flight but waited for a few minutes on the third step before peeking over the railing. Mrs. Griffith had disappeared once again.

  “That woman is so creepy,” Wren muttered and headed back down the staircase.

  She came to the bottom and looked into every nook and cranny. The foyer led in several directions, and she didn’t want anyone to spot her. The open foyer was visible to anyone from any direction.

  Coming down the short hall from the dining room, the hallway to the left, the hallway to the right, the hallway along the side of the stairs, and any room in between could mean instant eyes.

  Checking from left to right, Wren hurried across the foyer and to the hallway leading to the library. There were no guards in view. Wren wondered where they were hiding. Sybelle and Davies had mentioned they’d be more visible and present in the house. So far, she hadn’t seen one.

  “Great,” Wren whispered, as she slid around the corner. “They’re probably watching me now, and I’ll have no idea until one pops out and terrifies me.”

  Slipping into the library, Wren stood and looked at the cleaned area. It appeared exactly as it had before the destruction. If someone had come into this room looking for something, just after she’d left, it meant that person felt there was something worth hiding in this room.

  “Where do I even begin? I have to be quick in case Sybelle comes back.”

  Trying to picture the room as it had been when everything was a disaster, Wren closed her eyes. “What wasn’t touched?” she wondered.

  Books had been strewn across the floor. The ones she’d picked up were fiction. Picturing the nonfiction columns along the wall, Wren tried to remember which ones had been skipped over.

  The third bookshelf from the right of the desk had hardly been touched from her recollection. This bookshelf housed her father’s medical section. There were a variety of textbooks and informational reads from Barry to Johnson to Roach.

  Her father had a fascination for how the body worked, health, and epidemics throughout history. She started to pull book after book off the shelf. She breezed through them and continued on to the next one. There was nothing in any of them from A to O. Still, she kept looking and an ear cocked toward the doorway.