The Four Tales

by Rebecca Reddell

  There was a lamp turned on at the edge of the desk and another two on end tables around the room. It provided enough light for her to see by as the sun sunk below the horizon. When she got to the S authors, the book Mirror Touch by Joel Salinas felt bumpy.

  “What’s in here?” she asked.

  Opening the pages, she found a folded paper. Setting the book on the floor, looking back at the door, she unfolded the paper. On it was written Awareness, behavior exploration, compulsory or intent?

  “This isn’t helpful,” Wren whispered. She picked it up and looked at the cover. Nothing about the book suggested it had the answers she was looking for. However, the book was about the developments of neurology, psychology, and psychiatry. Perhaps it meant something she wasn’t understanding?

  Tucking the note back into the book, she decided to take the book with her. Maybe if she read it, she might get more information. She perused the next bookshelf. It continued with medical related books, but she noted there were less textbooks on the shelves.

  Flipping through them, she found two with bookmarks halfway through them. All the others had nothing. Reading over Just Checking and Girl, Interrupted, Wren flipped through them again. She looked over the bookmarks. Nothing.

  “Well, that’s not surprising. Dad read more than one book in a setting all the time. No notes, he might not have been invested in them.”

  Turning to face the room, Wren listened for any footsteps. There weren’t any. She didn’t have time to look through every single book. Her father had often read so many, it didn’t mean there were any clues within them.

  “I wouldn’t even know where else to look.”

  Closing her eyes, she tried to picture where else she could look. The desk had already been searched. She couldn’t recall any other area that hadn’t been touched. Perhaps she should look at the area the person had hit the most.

  Without much direction, Wren began looking under the furniture. She picked up statues, lamps, and knick-knacks around the room. Going back over the desk, she crawled under it once more to see if it held any hidden compartments she missed the first time.

  Twenty minutes later, she still didn’t have any idea what the person had been looking for or might have found. Knowing the fiction books were her stepmother’s favorites, she walked over to look at them. Thinking about the book Sybelle had been last reading, Wren walked to that bookshelf.

  Magpie Murders was still missing from the H’s. Wren looked for the last book her stepmother had read. The Night Bird by Brian Freeman was her stepmother’s last book. She found it and took it off the shelf. There weren’t any bookmarks or papers inside the book.

  Slipping it into her arms, she decided to search through it in her room. It might be a good idea to take a few books. Just in case someone wondered why she was in the library. Finding another book to take with her, Wren looked back around the room without knowing where else to investigate.

  Sighing, she took the books and hurried to the doorway. Cracking it open, she peeked into the hallway. There was a guard at the end. He was standing against the wall and facing out the entrance to the hall. Reclosing the door as quietly as she could, Wren rested her head against the frame.

  “Great,” she murmured. “I guess they’re back.”

  Thinking about what she might say, Wren straightened from the doorway and shook her head. “No. This is ridiculous. I’m the princess. I don’t need to have an excuse for being in my own library.”

  Shoulders back and head up, Wren reopened the door. She exited and closed the door behind her. When she walked down the hallway, she pretended she didn’t see the guard. He stood straight and kept his gaze focused before him.

  No one was in the foyer, and she didn’t meet anyone on the stairs or in the hallway. Inside her room, she found Ellie waiting for her.

  “Where were you?” Ellie asked, when she entered.

  “In the library. I thought I’d see if the culprit left anything behind. I couldn’t find anything, so I picked out a few books.” She set them on her end table and plopped onto a chair.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that question in such a way. I’ve been worried about you.”

  “Ellie, you’re my friend first. It’s okay that you asked. I’m trying to figure out what happened. I know no one believes I didn’t do it.”

  “That’s not true. I believe you.”

  “You might be the only one. Although, Sybelle did claim to believe me.”

  “Then she must. What kind of clues were you looking for?”

  “I don’t know. Anything I thought was out of the ordinary.”

  Ellie sat on the sofa and nodded to the books. “Was there anything in those?”

  Pausing, Wren shook her head. “No. I thought I might look through them since they were the last books my dad and Sybelle read. I’m unsure if they’ll reveal anything to me.”

  “I see. Do you still think Sybelle is behind your father’s murder?”

  Wren shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s been acting strange since he died. She’s been asking me for my input and acting as if I’m an equal. I’m not used to it.”

  “She might feel bad about her past behavior. The king is dead. It’s not a time to have division, and I’m sure she realizes that.”

  “You’re probably right. Do you think she could have done it, Ellie? Be honest.”

  Folding her hands in her lap, Ellie tilted her head to the left and stared into space. Wren knew she was thinking and gave her time to come up with an answer.

  “I don’t know what to say. The queen has always had exceptional conduct in public and in front of others. She’s known for her generosity, and the servants like her. However, I’ve seen the side of her you’ve seen. It’s a subtle manipulation, and she’s good at getting her way.”

  “So, you can understand why I’m not convinced she isn’t the killer?” Wren asked.

  Sighing, Ellie nodded. “I can. However, it would be a huge move for the queen to kill the king in such a way. I’m not sure she’s capable of the style of murder. It also seems like she’s going to a lot of work to frame you, if she planted the knife.”

  “It doesn’t surprise me she’s trying to frame me. Even if she throws suspicion my way, it’s less eyes directed at her. Sybelle has a lot to gain. If she isn’t the murderer or involved, I don’t know who else to blame.”

  “Well, we know it wasn’t you, and that’s a start. I do have to say, Mrs. Griffith shouldn’t be discounted as a suspect.”

  “You’re right. She was in the hallway earlier. She’d just come from the library before I went in, and I wonder what purpose she had in there. There wasn’t a book in her hand.”

  Nodding, Ellie came to a stand. “I’ll keep an eye on her when I’m here. If she could be involved, we need to know it. For right now, how’s your head?”

  “It’s fine. I’m tired, but I haven’t had a headache the rest of the day.”

  “Would you like a snack before bed?”

  “No, thanks. I’m still stuffed from supper. I think I’ll get ready for bed. I might read for a little while. You should probably head out since you have class in the morning.”

  “Of course,” Ellie said. “I laid out some bed clothes for you. Your outfit for tomorrow is hanging on the inside of your closet door. There are some snack bars and bananas on the table if you change your mind.”

  “Thank you, Ellie.” Wren stood and gave her friend a hug.

  “Anytime, Wren. Can I do anything else for you?”

  “You’ve done everything. I appreciate you being here for me.”

  “It’s been a pleasure.”

  “Knowing I have a true and faithful friend means a lot to me. Being a princess isn’t easy, even if we aren’t ruling.”

  “You’re doing a great job, Wren. I’m sure it isn’t easy, but you will get through this. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you, Ellie.” Wren leaned her head on her friend’s shoulder. “It’s n
ice having you in my corner.”

  “It’s where I’ll always be,” Ellie added.

  “You should go. I’ll be fine,” Wren told her.

  Giving a nod, Ellie left the room. Feeling alone, Wren took to the sofa again and picked up the books she’d brought up.

  “Well, might as well read through all of you and see if there’s a clue I’m missing.” She opened Mirror Touch first and began reading.

  8

  Her neck was stiff and sore. Her right shoulder had some kind of kink in it. She was sure there was drool on her chin. Wren sat up and rolled her shoulders back.

  “Did I fall asleep on that book?” She pulled Mirror Touch from under her arm.

  It was a brilliant read, but at some point, she’d lost the battle for keeping her eyes open. Her stomach growled. Across the room, her alarm began to screech on the nightstand.

  “This is pleasant.”

  Standing, Wren stumbled to the clock and turned off the alarm. The silence felt so good. She saw it was set for seven o’clock. Groaning, she knew this was Sybelle’s doing.

  “Wren?” her stepmother’s voice came through the doorway. “I’ll be at breakfast in a half-hour. I hope you’ll be ready by then. See you down there.”

  “Okay,” Wren’s voice cracked at the end. “Shower and toothbrush. Now.”

  The outfit Ellie had mentioned was on the back of the closet door as promised. She grabbed her clothes and headed for the bathroom. A shower, teeth brushed, and hair fixed, Wren felt more awake and ready to start the day.

  Thirty minutes were almost up, and she applied a little mascara and lip gloss before heading downstairs. Books stacked on her end table, she paused at the door and considered taking one of them with her. However, she didn’t want Sybelle to question her new reading material.

  Leaving them, she headed to the dining hall. The first thing she noticed were the two guards standing at the top of the stairs. They stood facing downstairs. She passed them and spotted two more standing beside the front doors. One stood in the doorway of each hallway. Entering the dining hall, there were two more tucked on either side of the entrance.

  “I see the guards are prepared,” Wren commented to Sybelle as she took her seat.

  Pouring her a cup of coffee, her stepmother nodded and handed it to her. “Captain Ward told me this morning the schedule for their rotation has been changed. The officers provided from the chief are also protecting the front and back. He has it all under control.”

  “Good to hear. When do we need to leave?”

  “We’re going to go at eight-thirty. The first stop is Mr. Gilbert. Afterward, we’re going to the floral shop to order the flowers. We’ll meet with the church and the funeral director afterward. We’ll take a break for lunch, and our fitting will be next.”

  “Okay,” Wren agreed. She didn’t feel like arguing over anything. It would be easier to keep an eye on Sybelle if she was with her anyway.

  She picked up her plate and carried it to the sidebar where eggs, bacon, and pancakes were warmed on heating plates. Scooping a little of everything up, she returned to the table and began eating.

  Davies entered the room and asked, “Princess, is there anything you would like to drink this morning?”

  “Coffee is great, Davies. I already have a cup.”

  “Excellent,” Davies said. “Is there anything else you’d like to eat beyond what’s here?”

  “No, I have everything I need. Thank you.”

  Bowing, he turned to her stepmother. “Queen Sybelle, is everything to your satisfaction?”

  “It is. Thank you, Davies. Please remind Mrs. Anwyn we won’t be home for luncheon, and I will expect the evening meal served at six instead of seven.”

  “Of course,” Davies said and bowed again.

  After he left the room, Wren turned to Sybelle and asked, “Why six?”

  “I’ve asked Mr. Gabriel to join us this evening to discuss a few things. He eats earlier than we do, so I thought we’d accommodate his schedule.”

  “All right,” Wren said.

  The path of least resistance appeared to be the best course of action. Today, she would keep an eye on Sybelle. She’d try to gauge her stepmother’s attitude and see if any secrets would come out.

  After they finished eating, Sybelle told her, “I’ll see you on the front porch at eight-thirty. I need to do a few things before we leave.”

  Wren nodded and drank the rest of her coffee. Her stepmother left, but her floral signature scent stayed behind. She closed her eyes for a second and released a breath.

  It was difficult at times to get along with her stepmother. Although the woman often appeared to be kind, Wren knew what she was really like. The trick was finding out how to get other people to see her true nature.

  Standing, she decided to head to her room to grab her purse and take the time to make another phone call. The guards bowed their heads to her as she passed by them but stood straight and aware. Since she was used to them and knew most by name, Wren was able to beat down the fear of being watched. It was something her school had activated in her.

  Entering her room on the third floor, Wren felt as if something looked different. She couldn’t place what was unusual as she looked around. Making sure no other maids were inside, she went to the phone and dialed the memorized number. Again, it rang repeatedly with no answer.

  “That figures,” she muttered and returned the phone to its cradle.

  She picked up her cell from its charger and grabbed her purse. Looking around the room, Wren tried to discern what was nagging at her. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t pinpoint what it could be.

  “I’m probably just losing it,” she whispered and exited the room.

  Heading downstairs, she saw Sybelle wasn’t present in the foyer. Glancing at her phone for the time, she saw it was 8:12. Wren wondered if her stepmother was on the porch already.

  Opening the front door, she stepped onto the porch and looked around. Sybelle wasn’t anywhere in sight. Instead of going back inside, Wren decided to wait on the swing. She sat on it and enjoyed the rocking motion.

  Thinking back to her childhood, she remembered her mother taking her to this swing. They would stay on it for hours playing games and rocking back and forth. Her eyes slid shut, and Wren thought she could still hear her mother’s voice in her ear.

  Queen Eleri had a soft voice and smelled of vanilla, not flowers. Wren remembered very little about her except she’d loved to sing and had black hair too. She’d died when Wren was six. A short time later, her father had married Sybelle, and nothing had ever been the same again.

  Clearing her throat and opening her eyes, Wren found Sybelle standing over her. Jerking backward, she gasped.

  “I thought you were asleep,” Sybelle told her, dropping her hand back to her side.

  “No, just thinking.” Wren stood up.

  “There is so much to think about, isn’t there? We’ll need to discuss your education after the funeral.”

  “I’m going to take a semester off,” Wren informed her.

  Sybelle stopped at the top of the stairs and looked over the front drive and lawn. “Wren, you won’t be making any decisions on your educational future right now. You’ve sustained a terrible shock.”

  “I’m not going the first semester,” Wren reiterated, standing in front of the swing.

  Her stepmother slowly shook her head. “Making decisions when you’ve had a tragedy isn’t a good way to go. The kingdom needs to look to you as their example. Taking off a semester will only show to them how weak and vulnerable you are.”

  Wren didn’t like her tone. It sounded condescending and hard. Glancing around, she saw no servants or guards were present. For a second, she wondered where the police officers were, but the thought left as she refocused on Sybelle’s words.

  “I’m not weak. Some may think I’m vulnerable, but I just left my father. Taking a semester off isn’t shocking. I’d say the opposite would be t
rue.”

  “We’ll discuss it later. Here’s the car.” Sybelle started down the stairs as the Cadillac pulled up to the front steps.

  The driver exited his side after putting it in park and opened the door for Sybelle. Wren hadn’t moved. She didn’t want to discuss it further. She’d already made up her mind, and her stepmother wasn’t about to change it.

  She counted to three before leaving the porch. Almost to the car, she spotted the missing officer. An older gentleman in uniform with a mustache and curious expression on his face stood at attention toward the side of the mansion.

  Nodding to him, Wren allowed the driver to help her into the car. She watched the officer as they prepared to leave. He didn’t move until they had started down the driveway.

  “What are you staring at, Wren?” Sybelle turned her head to see.

  “Nothing. Just the police officer. He seemed familiar somehow.”

  “You may have seen him the morning of your father’s death. There were so many of them here then.”

  “You’re probably right,” Wren said and settled into the seat.

  Sliding on her sunglasses, Wren ignored the reporters camped outside their front gate as they exited it. So many wanted a personal interview from the queen or princess, the inside scoop about what it meant to have the king murdered in his own home.

  Wren hated the press. Most of the time, they twisted everything to fit whatever story they were trying to sell. She was waiting for them to fixate on her as a possible suspect, if they hadn’t already. She didn’t read the news and figured right now it was in her best interest not to.

  “Mr. Gabriel will know how to deal with the press. He’s already released a statement for us and will make another soon. I’ve already discussed it with him. He helped prepare the obituary notice as well.”

  “Really? I didn’t realize he’d helped.” Wren wondered what else she had missed.

  “Yes, he’s very thorough. Your father set him to be in charge of these things. Now, I think we should wear black the first full month and then some form of black for the rest of the year.”