Chapter Twelve- That of Poison and Roses

Twelve

Poison.

Poison.

Poison.

It's the only thing on my mind as I slip away from breakfast in search of my first clue. Even invisible clues are still clues, and I refuse to rest until I find them.

The royal scribes and the royal guard had taken away the chalice last night, brought it somewhere for what I can only assume was in-depth testing. If I can find the chalice, I can find the poison that killed my father. If I find the poison, I can find the murderer.

After breakfast, I travel down the maroon-carpeted hallways back to my room. From here, I should be able to retrace my steps back to the room where my father was killed. 

Yes, King Soren Aldridge was killed too, but I can hardly find it in myself to care about him, after all of the disgusting things I've been told he's done. 

I count six crystal chandeliers before I reach the entryway to the treaty room. My breath stops along with my footsteps as the scene of my father's death replays before me in the empty space. I shake my head to clear it, wiping away a misbehaving tear before standing with my back to the wall, in the same place where I stood last night. Mentally replaying the scene again, my vision focuses on the blurriness that followed the catastrophic event. 

The scribes and the guard took the chalice and the pen... there. Down the hallway to the left... no, right, it must be. Mind racing, my feet carry me down the much narrower servant's corridor until I reach a set of four doors. They're all the same, painted white with slightly tarnished golden handles. The entire corridor holds a more gray color scheme, and I can't help but wonder if anyone but servants have been back here.

The first two doors are locked, and I assume the same will be the case for the third door. As I twist the knob, it jams, but throwing my body against the door seems to do the trick.

I tumble through the door, into a set of strong arms, and I realize I was quite wrong about being the only royal back here. 

"Prince Casimir, I-" I choke down the bile in my throat, replacing it for manners, "I'm so very sorry, I-"

He clears his throat, watching me pull myself from him and smooth my dress. I will my eyes to stay glued to the concrete floor, but they disobey at the sound of his coarse voice. "Princess Aily. I'm... I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to-"

"Oh, of course, I understand," I finish for him, glancing briefly up at his cerulean eyes. We stand in silence for a moment, as I refuse to tell him why I'm here, and he doesn't seem to care enough about me to ask.

"I assume you're here for the same reason I am," he says after a moment, his voice softening. "I'm sorry for your loss, Aily."

"Like hexes you are," I snap, forgetting to bite my tongue. For as much as I was taught to hate him, to hate his family, I'm supposed to be diplomatic when we're face to face.

"Oh, so that's how it is," he folds his arms, quickly changing tone to match mine.

"Yes, Aldridge. That's how it is."

"Aldridge, huh. Goodness, someone's not feeling great."

"Not feeling great? No shit, detective Casimir. My father just died."

The corner of his lips tugs up just barely, and I wonder if I'm imagining it. He places a hand over his heart in what feels like mock offense, saying, "Ah yes, as did mine. So could you tone it down a notch?"

It feels too early for him to be so nonchalant about his father's death, and I wonder if Casimir Aldridge truly is as emotionless as people say. More a soldier than a prince, I had no doubt that Casimir's "mission" that Kai mentioned earlier involved murder of some innocent.

Bloodthirsty, these Aldridges were.

"Look, I don't want your snotty remarks," I look him dead in the eye. My words have teeth, yet these teeth are not strong enough to draw Aldridge blood, it seems. "Talk all you want, it won't remove what you've done."

"Excuse me?" His eyebrow lifts upward.

"I know your family killed my father. Now all I need is a way to prove it."

AbbyG

WI

15 years old

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