Baron Helmore was very dead.
I knew this because I was currently staring at his corpse in the east gallery while trying not to vomit. He lay sprawled on the marble floor, wine glass shattered beside him, his face frozen in a rictus of agony and surprise.
Around us, chaos. Nobles screaming. Guards rushing in. The king's face pale with fury and fear.
"Everyone back!" the king commanded. "Guards, secure the gallery. No one leaves this wing until we determine what happened."
Duke Cassian stood beside me, his expression carved from ice. "This wasn't random."
"No," I agreed quietly. "It was a message."
"To whom?"
"To us." I gestured subtly at the wine glass. "Baron Helmore hosted the gathering where your secretary was poisoned. Now he's dead at the Royal Ball, poisoned the same way. Someone's tying up loose ends."
The king overheard. "Are you suggesting this is connected to the conspiracy you were just describing?"
"Your Majesty, I'm suggesting someone in this palace right now is systematically eliminating anyone who could expose them." I looked at the body, forcing myself to think past the horror. "Baron Helmore could have identified the servant who poisoned the wine at his gathering. Now he can't."
"Master Edwin," Cassian said suddenly. "He's supposed to be in the capital. If he's here—"
"He's finishing what he started," I completed.
The king's expression hardened. "Find him. Find Master Edwin immediately. And someone fetch Lady Meridian. I have questions for my cousin."
Two guards rushed off. The rest secured the gallery while a physician was summoned to examine the body.
I pulled Cassian aside, keeping my voice low. "Your Grace, this is wrong."
"Obviously. There's a dead baron—"
"No, I mean the pattern is wrong. In the—" I caught myself before saying 'game.' "In the conspiracy. Baron Helmore's death doesn't make sense. If Edwin wanted to eliminate witnesses, Helmore should have died weeks ago, not at the most public event in the kingdom where his death would trigger maximum investigation."
Cassian's eyes narrowed. "You think someone else killed him."
"I think we're not dealing with one conspiracy. We're dealing with multiple players, and they're all making moves tonight." I looked around the gallery. "Who benefits from Helmore's death? From chaos at the Royal Ball? From making the king look weak?"
"Someone who wants to destabilize the entire kingdom," Cassian said slowly. "Not just my duchy."
Before I could respond, a commotion erupted from the hallway. Lady Meridian swept into the gallery, flanked by guards, her purple dress swirling dramatically.
"Your Majesty," she said, her voice perfectly composed. "I came as soon as I heard. How terrible. Poor Baron Helmore."
She didn't look at the body. She looked at me.
And smiled.
The king stepped forward. "Cousin. We need to speak. Privately."
"Of course, Your Majesty. Though I wonder if this is really the time—"
"It is exactly the time." His voice was steel. "Duke Valorian has made some very serious accusations. Accusations involving you."
Her smile didn't waver. "Has he? How fascinating. And does the Duke have any evidence for these accusations, or is this merely the paranoid rambling of a man who sees conspiracies everywhere?"
"I have evidence," Cassian said coldly. "Documents. Confessions. A paper trail connecting you to systematic embezzlement and treason."
"Do you?" She tilted her head. "How convenient. Evidence that happens to appear right as Baron Helmore—a man who could corroborate or deny such claims—turns up dead." She looked at the king. "Your Majesty, I fear the Duke is trying to use this tragedy to settle political scores."
The king hesitated. I could see the calculation in his eyes—family versus evidence, political stability versus justice.
"Your Majesty," I said, stepping forward before I could stop myself. "May I examine the body?"
Everyone turned to stare at me.
"You're a butler," Lady Meridian said with amusement. "What could you possibly—"
"He's also the man who uncovered your conspiracy," Cassian interrupted. "If he wants to examine the body, let him."
The king nodded. "Proceed. But don't disturb anything."
I knelt beside Baron Helmore's corpse, very aware of everyone watching. I'd never examined a dead body before. I'd never even taken a biology class beyond high school. But I'd debugged enough systems to know how to look for anomalies.
The wine glass was shattered, but there was still liquid in the fragments. Same reddish color as the wine at the baron's gathering. Same smell—bitter almonds underneath the grape.
"Same poison as before," I said. "Probably administered the same way. Mixed into wine."
"That proves nothing," Lady Meridian said.
"It proves someone has access to the same poison. Someone who knows the method." I looked at the baron's hands. "But Your Grace? There's something else."
I pointed to his right hand. The fingers were stained with ink.
"Baron Helmore was writing something. Recently. Within the last hour." I looked around the gallery. "Where's his coat?"
A guard retrieved it from a nearby chair. I checked the pockets—carefully, aware I was probably contaminating a crime scene by modern standards, but this world didn't have CSI protocols.
In the inner pocket, a letter. Half-written. The ink still wet.
I unfolded it carefully.
*"Your Majesty, I must confess my involvement in a terrible—"*
That's where it ended. He'd been writing a confession when he was poisoned.
The king read over my shoulder. "He was confessing. To me."
"He was going to expose the conspiracy," I said. "Which means someone knew. Someone stopped him before he could finish."
"Master Edwin," Cassian said.
"Or someone working with him." I stood, facing Lady Meridian. "My lady, where were you in the past hour?"
Her smile turned dangerous. "Are you accusing me of murder, butler?"
"I'm asking where you were."
"I was in the ladies' parlor. With at least a dozen witnesses." She turned to the king. "Your Majesty, I won't stand here and be interrogated by servants based on the Duke's paranoid theories. If you have evidence, present it formally. Otherwise, I suggest we focus on finding the actual murderer instead of playing political games."
She was right. Damn it, she was right. We couldn't prove she'd done it herself. She had an alibi. And without being able to directly connect her to the poisoning—
Wait.
"Your Majesty," I said suddenly. "The wine. Where did it come from?"
"The palace cellars," the king said. "All the wine tonight came from our own stock. Selected personally by the royal steward."
"And who has access to the cellars?"
The king's expression shifted. "Palace staff. Certain nobles with special permissions. And family."
Lady Meridian's smile faltered. Just slightly.
"Your Majesty," I continued, "if the wine came from the royal cellars, and the poison was added before it reached Baron Helmore, then someone with palace access poisoned it. Someone who knew he would be here tonight. Someone who knew he was going to confess."
"That could be anyone," Lady Meridian said, but her voice had lost its confidence.
"Not anyone. Someone who knew about the conspiracy. Someone who had reason to silence the Baron." I looked directly at her. "Someone who's been coordinating with Master Edwin for six months."
"Proof," she hissed. "You have no proof."
"I have this." I pulled out the handkerchief we'd found in Wickham's room—I'd been carrying it as evidence. "Your family crest, Lady Meridian. Found in the room of the Duke's poisoned secretary. Stained with wine. The same wine that was served at Baron Helmore's gathering."
Her face went pale.
"And I have Master Edwin's meeting logs," I continued, bluffing now but committed. "Six months of meetings with you. Financial records showing payments coordinated with your visits. A confession from the Duke's secretary detailing bribes he received." I stepped closer. "The only thing I don't have is you admitting it. But I don't need that. The evidence speaks for itself."
Silence fell over the gallery.
Lady Meridian looked at the king. At the guards. At the evidence in my hands.
"Cousin," the king said quietly. "Is this true?"
For a long moment, I thought she might keep denying it. Might try to brazen her way through.
Then her mask cracked.
"You don't understand," she said, and her voice was different now—desperate, real. "I was trying to protect you. The Duke was going to defy you over the northern territories. He was gathering support among the other nobles. If you'd moved against him directly, it would have started a civil war. I was just... I was isolating him. Making him look unstable. So you could remove him quietly."
"By embezzling funds and bribing nobles to turn against him?" the king said, his voice cold.
"By being practical! By doing what you were too noble to do yourself!" She gestured wildly. "You're too soft, Leopold. You always have been. You want everyone to love you, but that's not how power works. Sometimes you have to make hard choices. Dirty choices."
"And Baron Helmore?"
"I didn't kill him! I swear I didn't!" She looked genuinely panicked now. "Yes, I was working with Edwin. Yes, I was coordinating the payments. But I never authorized murder. That wasn't—that was never part of the plan."
"Then who did?" Cassian demanded.
"I don't know! Edwin handles the operational details. I just provided the funding and the palace access." She turned back to the king. "Please, Leopold. I did this for you. For the kingdom. I was trying to help."
"By committing treason," the king said flatly. "By poisoning my nobles. By nearly starting the civil war you claimed to be preventing."
"Your Majesty—"
"Guards. Arrest Lady Meridian. Charge: conspiracy to commit treason." He looked at her with an expression that was somehow worse than anger—disappointment. "You're my cousin. I trusted you. And you betrayed everything we stand for."
As the guards moved forward, Lady Meridian's composure shattered completely. "Leopold, please! I'm family! You can't—"
"You stopped being family the moment you plotted against my dukes." He turned away. "Take her to the tower. And find Master Edwin. Now."
As Lady Meridian was led away, still protesting, the king turned to Cassian and me.
"It seems I owe you both an apology and a debt."
"Your Majesty, we still have a problem," I said. "Lady Meridian didn't kill Baron Helmore. She seemed genuinely surprised. Which means—"
"Which means Edwin went rogue," Cassian finished. "Or there's someone else. Another player we haven't identified."
A guard rushed in, looking panicked. "Your Majesty! Master Edwin—we found him. He's dead. In his quarters at the Duke's manor. Poisoned. Looks like he's been dead for at least a day."
The room spun.
Edwin was dead. Had been dead. Which meant he couldn't have poisoned Baron Helmore tonight.
Which meant everything we thought we knew was wrong.
"Your Grace," I said quietly. "We're not dealing with a conspiracy to destabilize your duchy."
"What are we dealing with?"
I looked at the king, at the guards, at the nobles beginning to gather in the hallway, drawn by the commotion.
"Someone's killing everyone involved in the conspiracy," I said. "Including the conspirators themselves. And they're doing it here, tonight, in front of everyone."
"Why?"
"To send a message." I met Cassian's eyes. "Or to trigger something bigger."
The king's face hardened. "I'm canceling the ball. Everyone goes home. Now."
"Your Majesty, wait—" I started.
But it was too late. The announcement was made. The ball was over.
Nobles began streaming out of the palace, panicked and confused. The careful social order dissolved into chaos.
And somewhere in that chaos, a murderer walked free.
I grabbed Cassian's arm. "Your Grace, we need to leave. Now."
"Why?"
"Because whoever's doing this, they're not done. Lady Meridian, Edwin, Baron Helmore—they're all pieces being cleared from the board. And I think we just painted a target on our backs by exposing the conspiracy."
"You think they'll come after us next?"
"I think we just proved we're smart enough to be dangerous." I pulled him toward the exit. "And in every version of this story I know, dangerous people don't survive Act Two."
We made it to the carriage, Cassian's guards forming a protective circle around us. As we pulled away from the palace, I looked back at the chaos.
Nobles shouting. Guards running. The king's banner flying at half-mast—the signal for royal tragedy.
The doom flags weren't just triggering anymore.
They were cascading.
And I had no idea how to stop them.
"Arjun," Cassian said quietly. "That thing you said. About knowing how this story ends. About everything burning."
"Yes?"
"Is this how it starts?"
I looked at the palace shrinking behind us, at the fires being lit in the towers, at the chaos spreading through the capital.
"Yes," I said. "This is exactly how it starts."
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