“What?” Wren turned her head to Sybelle.
“I know it’s an antiquated tradition, and no one abides by it anymore, but I feel we need to revert back to it on your father’s behalf. He was king, after all.”
“Sybelle, we can’t wear nothing but black for a full year. Father wouldn’t even expect us to do that.”
“We should represent your father. It’s different. He was the king of our sovereign, constitutional monarchy. Our stance should announce to the world how much he will be missed. We must set the standard.”
“I still feel a full year is quite a bit of time. I don’t think I have enough black pieces for that, and I had Ellie order several black outfits the other day.” Wren gestured to her current black pants and black silk shirt.
She was already burning up in them with summer around the corner. The heat of the sun could still be felt through the tinted windows.
Her stepmother turned her head to match Wren’s gaze. The green was darker and hard.
Emeralds, Wren thought of as they stared at her.
“We are sticking to the plan I have laid out. Mr. Gabriel feels it’s agreeable. The public needs to recognize our sadness over the loss of your father, our king.”
Wren nodded and looked back out the window.
“I phoned Mr. Gabriel before we left. Since the murderer is still at large, he encouraged me to take extra security. Captain Ward agreed it was the right course of action. So, I don’t want you leaving the house without their accompaniment,” she said.
“Sybelle, I doubt anyone will be after us. They could have killed either of us that night. Remember? You told me you were glad you weren’t in the room since the killer could have taken you out too.”
“Wren! Please watch what you say. I didn’t mean it like that at all. I merely pointed out how the killer could have killed me as well had I been in the room.”
“But you weren’t,” Wren stated.
“No, I was in the library.”
“Do you think that’s why the library was ransacked?”
“What do you mean?” Sybelle’s brows descended as she gazed at Wren.
“Well, maybe the killer went to the library looking for something you left behind?”
“Wren, please. I’m in no mood to go over your ludicrous theories.”
“I’m just saying, it seems weird to have someone enter our library and destroy it for no reason.”
Folding her hands in her lap, Sybelle took a deep breath. “You were the last seen to enter the library, Wren. Is there a reason you raided it?”
“I went to the library for a book. I didn’t do anything else.”
“So, you believe someone went in there looking for… what? If it was the killer, what could they have been looking for?”
“I don’t know,” Wren said.
“There you have it. It can’t have any connection to me, and I don’t think it has any connection to the killer either.”
Looking over at her stepmother, Wren glared. “You think I did it.”
“I didn’t say that,” Sybelle refuted.
“But it’s what you suspect.”
“You were the last one seen in there. You’re unhappy about your father’s murder, as you have a right to be. You’ve accused me of killing him. I was in the library that night. I feel it connects.”
“I didn’t do it!” Wren growled. “It was clean when I left. I didn’t look for anything but a book. Why would I make a disaster for everyone and alert them to someone even being in the library? Even if I was looking for something other than reading material, what sense would that make?”
Sighing, Sybelle shook her head. “I don’t know, Wren. I’m not saying you did it. I just wanted to point out you had the opportunity to do so. Anything you want to pin on me, I can make a logical argument against you for it as well. Just remember that.”
Fuming, Wren crossed her arms and stared out the window. This is what it was like trying to argue with her stepmother. Everything Sybelle did was right, and nothing she did was correct. The older woman knew how to win, and Wren didn’t want her to get away with murder too.
The rest of the ride was made in silence, and when they arrived at Mr. Gabriel’s office building, both climbed out without a word to the other.
Two guards followed them inside and into the elevator. Wren caught the looks of awe and pity in the few employees and other lawyers on the first floor. Once in his offices, the receptionist greeted them with a smile.
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” Charlotte told them. She stood behind her desk and gave a curtsey.
Wren shook her head and walked around the desk to hug the woman. She’d known Charlotte since birth. Holding the woman close, she felt better. This was someone who knew her and her family, who had been a friend to her mother.
“Thank you, Charlotte,” she murmured.
“Wren.” The disapproving tone of her stepmother was ignored.
After their hug, Wren came back around the desk. She kept her eyes on the floor. She didn’t want to see Sybelle’s admonishing gaze. The woman disapproved of her close relationship with servants. Even if Charlotte wasn’t one, her position was not necessarily one her never-worked-a-day-in-her-life stepmother didn’t frowned upon.
“Thank you, Charlotte,” Sybelle added with a slight incline of her head. “We’re here to see Mr. Gabriel.”
“Of course. He’s in his office on a call, or he’d be out here awaiting your entrance. I will let him know you have arrived.” Charlotte paged him, and in the next second, he was coming out to greet them.
“I’m so sorry. I had an emergency call, and I couldn’t put them off. Please forgive me for not being ready to greet you immediately.”
“I understand,” Sybelle replied. “These things happen.”
“My apologies, Queen Sybelle, Princess. Come inside.” He led them into his office and the guards followed.
After making a sweep of the inner office, the guards retreated and stationed themselves outside the door. Mr. Gabriel closed it and motioned for them to take their seats.
“Charlotte will bring in the tea, if you’d like?”
“No, thank you,” Sybelle said. “We won’t be staying long this morning. Here is the list I promised.”
“Thank you for making this, Queen Sybelle. I know you have far better things to concern yourself over.”
“It was necessary, Mr. Gabriel, and no problem at all.”
“Princess, would you like some tea?” Mr. Gabriel asked her directly when she didn’t answer.
“No, thank you.”
He nodded and took a seat. “I will see Charlotte gets this list immediately. There were a few details I wanted to go over. The priest is all set to speak, and he’s delighted you are calling this afternoon. Are you sure I can’t handle it for you?”
“I want to meet with him directly. I think it will help ensure all goes well if I see him personally. Also, it helps to have something to do.”
“I completely understand. Please let me know when I can be of any more assistance. The floral shop has agreed to open later in order to serve you.”
“Excellent,” Sybelle nodded, while making a note on her list.
They continued exchanging notes for the next five minutes. Wren squirmed in her chair as she listened to them discuss the funeral. She began to feel the need to use the facilities and their calm, matter of fact chatter made her heart ache. It was as if they were discussing someone else’s funeral and not her father’s.
“Wren?” Sybelle’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Yes?” she asked.
“Are you all right? You’ve shifted for the tenth time in your chair.”
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to step out to use the facilities.”
“Please feel free,” Mr. Gabriel told her and stood as she rose to leave.
“Thank you. I’ll be right back.”
Being away from the office for a few minutes helped to balance her. Wren
washed and dried her hands in the restroom. She opened the door and reentered the office. Charlotte was out of her seat with a stack of files.
“I need to get these to Mr. Gabriel’s partner. Are you doing okay, Princess?”
“Wren, Charlotte. I’m doing about as good as can be expected,” she told her.
Reaching out a hand, Charlotte squeezed Wren’s right one. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Thank you,” Wren said.
Charlotte left, and Wren was faced with the two guards and returning Mr. Gabriel’s office. She approached the door and took a deep breath. Both guards ignored her, and she felt they might be trying to afford her what privacy they could.
Slowly, she twisted the knob and opened the door. It made a soundless push forward, but when she heard her name, Wren stopped.
“Wren’s been acting strange. After the incident yesterday, I’m unsure if she shouldn’t be kept busy,” Sybelle was saying.
“What incident?” Mr. Gabriel asked.
“The library was destroyed. She was the last seen to have entered it. Our butler, Davies, saw her. Books had been pulled from their shelves and were all over the floor. Statues and lamps were as well.”
“Are you sure it was Wren? I don’t see her doing something like that.”
“I would agree, but who else could it have been? The killer? Why would he return to the scene of the crime, so to speak? Plus, she was seen going inside it not thirty minutes before.”
“Queen Sybelle, Wren isn’t the type to destroy a library no matter what stress she is under. Perhaps a disgruntled employee did it?”
“Why? If that was the case, I’d want them fired immediately.”
“I would agree with that course of action. Did no one see anything else?”
“No, and I’m worried. Ever since the knife was found under her bed, she’s been determined to put the blame on me. I know she doesn’t like me, but I have to say this has been ridiculous.”
Wren didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t move. Her head began to ache, and her temples had a slight thrum inside. The guards stood so close, she could feel their body heat, and she knew they must be hearing her stepmother’s words.
Heat flushed her cheeks, and she started to feel sick. It seemed as if her stepmother didn’t mind putting her down to their lawyer. Mr. Gabriel had known her since birth. There’s no way he would side with her stepmother over what she was insinuating.
“I still don’t believe it, but do you have any other suspects?”
“None,” Sybelle stated. “Mr. Gabriel, we must consider the very real possibility that Wren murdered her father and ransacked the library. I don’t know what her motives might be, but I feel we must be prepared for the possibility.”
Wren didn’t hear Mr. Gabriel’s reply. Her head had started to pound, and she felt her stomach turn queasy. Torn on what to do, Wren threw the door open and entered the office.
Angry, she glared at Sybelle. The woman sat there with wide eyes. Mr. Gabriel stood and raised a hand as if to explain.
“I didn’t kill my father, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say such things!” Wren shouted. “You’re not completely innocent either. Remember that. I’m going to the car.”
Storming from the office, she swept past the guards and a shocked Charlotte. Ignoring them all, Wren ran to the elevator and pushed the button. She barely noticed one of the guards had followed her and entered before the doors had slid shut.
Hitting the first floor button, Wren stood straight and kept her gaze down. She focused on slowing her breath. She made it to the car before the tears came, ignoring the calls of the paparazzi. They filled her eyes, but she blinked and tried to keep them from falling.
When Sybelle came, the car pulled forward and neither spoke. Wren knew she’d have to get through this morning, but she also knew her stepmother wasn’t afraid to point the finger. It made her even more aware of what she was up against, and it scared her.
9
The tender scrape of her lids sent prickles through her eyeballs. Adjusting her sunglasses to block out the camera flashes as they drove out the iron gates of the palace, Wren blinked and wondered if she’d gotten any sleep the previous night.
The paparazzi are like a double-edged sword. They cut you one way or another.
Cameras snapped pictures, while bright bulbs of blinding light flashed through the windows. Wren was grateful to be hidden from view and ducked her head down.
However, that didn't stop the paparazzi from standing outside the gates of the Snow's home trying to capture a glimpse of the grieving queen and princess. They weren’t a wife and daughter at these moments. They were the money-makers; the stories every reporter wanted to sell.
Wren watched through the tinted windows as they came to a stop outside the gates. The guards attempted to clear a wide enough path for the limo to squeeze through.
There was nothing like inviting two hundred and forty-eight people to your father's funeral. Of course, the adoring public would also be present but on the outskirts of the event with the news broadcasting live. At least she’d escape from them at the palace afterward.
“Are you doing all right, Wren?” Queen Sybelle's voice sliced into her thoughts.
Stiffening, Wren took a deep breath. “As well as I can be since I’m stuck in the car with a murderer on the way to my father's funeral.”
Three beats of silence. “Really, Wren, you know that is a horrible and untrue accusation. I didn't kill your father. I have no reason to do so, and I didn't. Am I going to have to bring up the fact that the weapon was found under your bed?”
Wren had avoided her stepmother over the last few days as preparation for the funeral had been made. They hadn’t spoken about what Sybelle had spoken of at Mr. Gabriel’s. They hadn’t been disturbed by the police for the last three days either.
“Stepmother, you are aware - I am sure, that evidence can be planted. You had just enough time and opportunity to do the deed and hide the knife in my room. So, no, I don't really feel it is a horrible and untrue accusation. They always say the wife did it in every mystery I've ever read.” Wren kept picturing her stepmother loading her into the monarchy’s private plane while telling her father it was for her own good.
“Well,” was all the queen managed.
The rest of the ride was made in silence. Wren hugged her side of the limo and refused to look at her stepmother. She knew the truth. Her stepmother was the real murderer, and the sooner the chief constable found it out, the better for everyone.
They arrived at Serenity Funeral Home within forty-five minutes of leaving home. Their drive was impeded by the news vans and reporters swarming the area. Guests lined Community Avenue.
“It's heartbreaking to see so many people here to pay their respects to your father,” Sybelle sniffled.
Wren only looked at the claustrophobic amount of people. Everywhere she glanced, they were there, with their cameras and prying eyes. Their limo arrived at the front door. Captain Ward exited the front seat and opened the door for them.
Entering the foyer of the old brick building, Wren noted a particular old-people smell. Mothballs and Old Spice filled the air.
Carter Toombs rushed up to them as soon as they entered and pressed their hands with his dry fingers. The funeral director was lean and stiff and gushing.
“It is truly a tragic day,” Carter intoned as he escorted them into the chapel where the funeral would be taking place. The casket sat at the front of the room with a closed lid and a pile of flowers on top.
Wren followed Queen Sybelle to the front to deposit their jackets and purses. The room was cool, but any minute it would heat up from the press of bodies. They would sit at the front and greet those who came to help celebrate the passing of a great king.
Wren wasn't certain why they were “celebrating” anything. It sounded ridiculous to her. She wasn't happy or delighted over her father's death.
Standing there, Wren
watched as the room came alive around her. Guards appeared around the room in every nook and cranny. A video tribute, put together by her stepmother and the funeral planner-- they apparently had those, began to play. Watching her father's life as a slideshow on a huge screen above his casket with pomp and ceremony sent shivers through Wren.
The flowers around the casket and coating the front of the room were stuffed into every available space until there was barely a foot of carpet between where the flowers ended and the pews began. Carter was explaining what would happen, but Wren ignored the voices floating around her head.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Queen Sybelle, may I present…”
Captain Ward stood at the end of their front pew. She watched as he watched the Prime Minister come through the back doors and make his way to their pew. Soon men and women of the Royal Cabinet and Parliament entered. The area filled with voices and even more mothballs and Old Spice.
“Prime Minister,” Wren nodded at him and accepted his bow and the hold on her hand.
“My condolences, Princess. The kingdom has lost a great man as well as a great king. It is a tragic loss for our world,” he said after greeting her stepmother.
“Thank you, Prime Minister. It’s an honor for your to be here. As well as the Royal Cabinet and Parliament. It means so much to my family.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” he told her. Bowing once more, he took the pew to the right and across from them.
Wren accepted hugs, kisses on the cheek, and gripping handshakes as she and the queen greeted person after person. Losing count of the names and people she spotted, Wren worked on trying not to cry. Or sweat. Or run from the room screaming.
Heart pounding and head beginning to ache, Wren shifted from one heel to the next. Her black dress was calf-length and short-sleeved but did nothing to relieve the stifling heat which had her taking breath after breath.
Sybelle stood next to her hugging and clasping hands with friends, government officials, and relatives. Their relatives were a few cousins, aunts, and uncles who didn't often have anything to do with them unless there was a death, wedding, or state function.
The Four Tales Page 53
