The servant died before sunset. It was a fast-acting poison, obviously done willingly, because the guards were unable to find out how the servant hid it, in the first place. To spark this sort of devotion, I had my guesses.
Whoever orchestrated the invasion clearly prepared for failure. I stood inside the underground holding chamber while healers examined the body.
General Varric cursed softly. "No ordinary servant carries poison like this."
No, this was organized and planned. The servant's wrist had faint burn marks shaped like crescent symbols. The attackers in black cloaks had similar markings, though theirs were more extensive and complex. Making me wonder if it was the forgotten markings.
The realization deepened the dread in my chest that the enemy had infiltrated palace staff l
