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1457 Words
Did Evette die over spilled wine?
No. My father trusted William enough to appoint him as Advisor of the whole kingdom before he died. I can’t accuse him of being a murderer just because I don’t like him.
What about the kitchen staff? Sophie said that Evette was always getting into trouble. The spilled wine would not have only made Evette look bad, but the entire kitchen staff. Did someone allow their anger to go too far?
Sophie takes the last bite of her pastry. She stares longingly at the other pastries on the plate, but wouldn’t dare ask for another.
Violette pushes the plate even closer to her, “Eat as many as you want. We just ate supper and are too full. You can take the extras back with you if you want.”
Some light returns to Sophie’s eyes, “Really? The whole plate?”
“We could get you another plate if you want. I’m terribly sorry about Evette.”
Sophie sighs, “I just hope they find who the murderer was. None of us servants feels safe.”
Emilienne hesitates and then asks, “Do you have any idea at all who would want to harm Evette?”
“I’ve been asked that so many times by some many different people, the investigator, other kitchen staff, Evette’s friends. I don’t know, believe me I don’t.”
She finishes her second pastry. “She hated arguing too. I can’t imagine that she’d have said anything to anyone that would make them angry enough to kill her.”
All of our eyes fall on the door as it swings open. The investigator steps inside, his cold grey eyes surveying the scene.
He smiles tightly, “I was told I could find you here, Sophie. I wanted to talk to you again, but it appears as though these princesses have already done the job for me.”
Sophie scrambles up from her seat and curtsies, “They’ve been very kind to me, sir. They just wanted to talk about Evette.”
“I figured that much. You are excused. I’ll find you later.”
“Certainly.” Sophie flees the room, abandoning her promised plates of pastries.
He frowns, “We didn’t have time for proper introductions the last time. As you aren’t supposed to be in the areas of investigation, I didn’t think I would see you again. However, introductions do seem appropriate, as we keep meeting up.”
Emilienne raises her chin, “We live here. Wouldn’t you expect to see us?”
He frowns, “I didn’t realize that examining blood stains and dining with kitchen servants was part of your daily schedule, your highnesses.”
Emilienne stays silent, but she continues to glare at him.
“However,” he is not bothered by Emilienne’s coldness, “I’m Victor. It was I who William hired to find the murderer, not you. I would appreciate if you kept this in mind.”
“What are you doing to investigate?” Violette asks.
Victor says, “Of course I have leads, but I’m not foolish enough to share them with you. It’s clear that you are intent to turn yourselves into brilliant investigators. However, I’m more than qualified for this job. I’m known among many nobles as the best of the best. I’ve worked for Sir Benedict of Clairmonte and Sir Claude of Veranette. William certainly has hired the best of the best.”
I smile sweetly back at him, “We’ll do our best to remember that.”
Victor stands, “Yes, that’d probably be for the best. You wouldn’t want any of your behavior to affect your cylinders. Although…I’m afraid they might have already changed your scores.”
How did he know about the competition?
Victor marches out of the room. When he reaches the door, he pauses to say, “Have a good night, my ladies. Hopefully there won’t be as much excitement as last night, but you can never know.”
He closes the door swiftly behind him, his loud footsteps receding down the hall.
“How did he know we were in here talking to Sophie?” I ask.
“Maybe he really did want to talk to her,” Violette suggests.
“Or he’s watching us instead of investigating,” Emilienne says.
“But if he’s trying to investigate a murder he wouldn’t have time to watch us,” Violette says.
I take a deep breath, “I have something to share, but I can’t say it here.”
“The gardens?” Violette stands.
We agree and stride out of the dining room, leaving Sophie’s abandoned pastries behind. We escape from the castle walls, stepping into the cool spring air. The sun ducks behind the trimmed trees, casting everything into shadows.
The wind blows back our hair as we walk to the center of the gardens. We keep out a watchful eye for any gardeners or guards that might eavesdrop. We see no one the whole way.
We duck behind a hedge and I force the accusation from between my lips, “I think it might have been William.”
“What?” Emilienne cries out.
I state all the facts I’ve gathered behind Grace’s theory. It could be part of the contest as we don’t know any of the rules behind it. He He’s not reacting fast enough. Victor was hired by William and could be covering up for him. Sophie told us that Evette had spilled wine on William. She also told us that the servant staff are afraid of him. The more reasons I point out, the more I begin to believe it myself.
“But our father trusted him. He wouldn’t appoint William as Advisor if he was…” Doubt tints Violette’s words.
“People change.” I say simply.
Emilienne says, “Say we found more facts about this and have no doubt that William is the killer. What would we do? Who would we tell? We can’t have a murderer as the Advisor, but how do we accuse him without getting ourselves killed? Who would believe us?”
“First of all, we definitely can’t trust anyone else with this theory unless we’re certain it’s he. I never have liked William, so maybe it’s just my paranoia.” I say.
“I’m not convinced that it’s he, but your facts do make sense.
“But where do we search next? We can’t go to the courtyard and Victor just made it pretty clear he didn’t’ want us talking to the kitchen servants. Where else can we go?” Violette wraps her arms around her as a gust of wind flies over us.
“Just because Victor doesn’t want us to, doesn’t mean we can’t,” Emilienne says.
“Maybe we should talk to some guards. Someone close to the courtyard must have heard or seen something. There is staff everywhere,” I say.
We agree to find a guard on duty last night and question him. We hurry from the garden, carefully watching for anyone who might have overheard. None of us see anything.
When we reach the castle doors, a guard greets us, “There you are, my ladies. We’ve been frantically searching the castle.”
“Not to worry. We are perfectly safe,” I say.
He motions for us to follow him, “William has requested that you go back to your rooms for the night for your safety.
Emilienne frowns, “Aren’t we always safe within the castle walls? Hasn’t the security been doubled?”
More guards meet us at the doors that lead out to the courtyard where Evette was murdered. Why are they all gathered there? Something must have happened.
I have to get out into that courtyard.
I charge forward, twisting by the guards and force the doors open. My shoes allow me only a wobble sprint, but I still see.
A sob crawls up my throat.
A thin trail of blood traces Sophie’s still neck.
- Writer
