Chapter 112: 6-13 Murder at Midnight

Duke Lawrence got up, or more accurately, he jumped out of the bed. After a quick look around the room, he saw me. There was a brief expression of bewildered confusion and he blinked several times before shaking his head, “Ha. So, he actually sent you to do his dirty work, the damn coward.”

After saying his piece, he did nothing more. He made no move to defend himself. He did not attempt to call the guards outside his tent nor any of the knights. As the seconds dragged on, it became increasingly obvious that he had no intention of doing more.

But why can’t I move?

There wasn’t any pressure or anything. Duke Lawrence’s stare wasn’t even particularly uncomfortable. Rather than feeling appraising or disparaging as it had before, it simply felt… pitying. As soon as that emotion registered I felt my gut twist in anger.

“No. I chose to be here.” There was little use in maintaining any pretense about my identity; he had clearly figured it out and it wasn’t like he was going to live much longer in any case.

“Did you really? Well, it would appear that I have misjudged you.”

He did not sound particularly upset or surprised, but he was a duke. It was very likely that whatever emotion he may actually be feeling at this moment was well buried.

I should just kill him and get out of here. This is definitely some kind of act to buy time or something along those lines.

While I had said that, I could not bring myself to move. This whole situation was just weird and, combined with my slight misgivings and hesitations, paralyzing.

“Well? I assume you are here to kill me and foist the blame to those in the city. Or have I misjudged his highness as well?” The way Duke Lawrence’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Rupert’s title, something about it was curious.

He wasn’t angry, more… resigned?

“…I’ll bite. How have you come to those conclusions, and what do you mean about misjudging me?” This really was not a good idea. I was going to kill him. Now that I’d come this far, there was no variation of this meeting where Duke Lawrence did not die tonight. Talking to him now would only cause the action to weigh heavier on me later. It was not without some degree of hesitation that I relaxed my stance.

Hesitation that my would-be victim did not miss, “I see. So you are not yet committed? Then, why did you come here tonight?”

Ah. This is just like with Lady Lester. I’ve gone and let him start running verbal circles around me.

This was simply confirmation that he had no way to beat me. If he tried to call for help, I would obviously be more than able to finish him off before they arrived. If he tried to fight me then he would lose. In absence of any other option, he had turned to words.

And like an idiot, I fell right in.

A mistake that was easily rectifiable. Almost preternaturally, I fell back into my ready stance. This man’s death was something that would help with Rupert’s goals and by extension my own. He was no fool though, and managed to pick up on the shift in my demeanor instantly.

“I see. Well, sadly, I am happily married, so I would not have you enter my bed.” Half grinning at his own joke, Duke Lawrence made for the edge and then adjusted himself into a seated position with his hands folded peacefully.

That was the first time anyone had made a joke like that at my expense and, considering the circumstance, it was something I was wholly unprepared for.

“E-excuse you!?”

“Ah, that was inappropriate of me, you are an engaged woman after all. My apologies, Princess Ris.”

Right, of course, he figured out that me and Rupert already married. 

The way he’d emphasized certain words left little doubt in my mind at least. At this point, it wasn’t all that surprising. Pretty much everyone who had seen me without the illusion active had figured out that Rupert and I were already married. Not that going out of my way to confirm or deny his assumptions would do me any good in this instance.

He continued in a manner that indicated he didn’t actually care if I confirmed it or not.

“It would seem that my imminent death has loosed my lips a bit more than would normally be acceptable… I would have liked to see my children grow up and start their own families…” His voice trailed off wistfully before picking up with a shrug, “But, in the end, it is simply not in the cards. Do use my death well.”

“…For what it is worth, your family will be spared. In fact, they will be rather well compensated for your loss.” He was still playing word games with me. I knew that. But bringing up his own family just wasn’t fair. Given my own motivations, how could I not answer him after he brought up something like that?

For the briefest of moments, his mask flickered and a small glint of genuine relief showed through, “I see. It feels odd to profess my thanks to the person who is going to kill me, but you have my gratitude.”

He stood then, and moved towards a small cabinet. The thought that he might be making some desperate gamble for his life did not occur to me. Nor did the notion that I should simply stab him and be done with all this. For better or worse, and likely worse, he had managed to get me curious.

“Alright. Lord Lawrence, why are you willing to die?”

Everything about this just didn’t make sense to me. Despite the risk in getting to know him, at this point I couldn’t do anything else.

“I am not.” His answer was immediate, straightforward, and completely at odds with his actions thus far. After a short pause, in which he removed a bottle of wine from the cabinet, he continued, “I am sure, that any criminal sentenced to death is unwilling to die. I have simply accepted that I am going to. I have accepted that fact since His Highness assigned me to this post. The only question, then, was in whose hand would be the blade. I had not expected yours.”

“That was why there was an alarm set to trigger on the [Silence] spell, then.” It made sense now that he said outright that he had known, or at least suspected, that an assassin was coming. Nobles used the [Silence] spell far too frequently and so specifically excluded it from the alarms their quarters invariably had. Besides the fact that once it was cast the alarm would not easily be able to alert their guards or knights.

“Yes. I was curious; would Lord Ferdinand be the one? Or had a new crop of assassins been raised already? I wanted to know who His Highness would send if only to satisfy my own curiosity. But his wife? That was, truly, unexpected.”

I see we’re dropping the pretense then. Or maybe he’s being more direct since I didn’t react the last time he referenced my marriage.

There was also the little matter of him basically saying he knew about the old Order of Shadows, but that could easily be attributed to his station as a duke. Not that either matter was something I had any inclination to respond to. Duke Lawrence uncorked the bottle and poured a single glass.

“Please do not take me for a rude host, but I doubt you would trust anything I offered. Besides, this is a rather sentimental bottle for me.” After swirling the glass for a few moments, he took a sip, “May I ask you a question this time?”

At this point, I had become fully invested and so indicated that he may, “Go ahead.”

“It is clear to me that I angered you with my proposal. Why?”

That’s what he wants to know? Why I was angry that he was trying to make my brother into a political pawn? Or is this a test? Trying to figure out where I stand on the matter of killing him.

“Why was I upset by that? Are you serious? Why would I not have been upset? My brother is not even six years old yet; he does not need a betrothal, especially one where he would be little more than a hostage or tool.” One might expect that getting something like that off my chest would cause me to start shouting, but I was instead strangely calm. In fact, saying it out loud like that almost made me question why I had become so angry in the first place. Almost.

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My somewhat cold response did not seem to upset Duke Lawrence, who merely nodded, “I see. Yes, I might have guessed at that given how you were not raised a noble but became one later. I gambled that you might have a more high-minded opinion seeing your relation to my predecessor but was clearly mistaken. In the end, it was but one last gambit that fell through.”

He’s baiting me by dragging out my family’s past status, but I might as well bite. If this was a gambit, he might have other plans in store.

That was my excuse at least but, in reality, it was mostly curiosity that drove me, “What do you mean ‘one last gambit’?”

He took a sip of his wine and rolled it around his tongue before responding, “Well, seeing as I am already going to die, I may as well tell you. Perhaps the knowledge will prove useful… From the moment my liege, His Highness, Percival von Drakas was killed, I knew that my days were likely numbered. His Highness the third prince would not suffer a potential political threat like myself.”

…That explains the marriage proposal, I think. If he tied his family to mine, then Rupert might have hesitated…?

 “As you might have guessed, the politics of this country are a sort of game played amongst the royal children. It simply happens that my own bet lost.”

“Then why move to Ru, Prince Rupert’s side? You could have sided with Prince Antonio and Duke Febligi.”

He grimaced and shook his head, “No, His Highness the first prince is not an option and I suspect even Lord Febligi knows this. That man’s duty to his liege has eclipsed his duty to his kingdom. His high… Oh to hell with it. Rupert’s nature is that of a snake, nearly a demon himself. He will do whatever it takes to get what he wants. A drawn-out civil war is the last thing this country needs. Not now.”

Silence reigned. There had been a lot of bitterness wrapped up in that, but also conviction. Duke Lawrence really did believe that what he was saying was the truth.

But he doesn’t know everything. Rupert is, we’re doing all of this because it’s what we need to do. Because we have more information than you, we’ve arrived at a different conclusion…

“Lord Lawrence, there is one thing you’ve mistaken still.”

He had finished his wine while the silence still filled the room, and moved to sit at the edge of the bed. Now, he turned to look me in the eye, “And what is that?”

“You mean to plant a seed of doubt, to try and bring me to question my own allegiance. You are mistaken in the assumption that I am not already aware of Rupert’s nature, and my own. Make no mistake; I chose to be the one to come tonight. I was not ordered.”

“Then, this as well is my loss. May the gods protect my kingdom.”

There wasn’t really anything I could say in response to that. He had seemingly come to his own conclusions and no matter what might be said by me, those were not likely to change. It would not matter either, since I was supposed to kill him. My hand palmed the knife. It lacked the coating of Grave Oil the previous assassins of the kingdoms had used.

Ferdinand had offered to provide me some, but if I really had wanted it then I was more than capable of making it for myself. That stuff was… After what had happened to Jacqueline, the thought of using it again made my stomach churn. A knife could kill well enough on its own, without such a terrible poison. Not that the advantages of such a potent toxin could be denied. It was nothing if not effective.

There isn’t much point in me waiting any longer… I need to get this over with, before I really begin to question myself… I don’t regret hearing him out, but I can’t let his words get to me. I can’t afford that.

I drew the dagger and took a step towards where he was sitting, “Well, for whatever it is worth; I am sorry. If things had gone a bit differently then we might have been allies.”

Gods, I sound so cliche, but I do mean it. We might have gotten off on the wrong foot, but assuming I can take his words at face value…

That was a really big if though. Still, it bore mentioning how similar he was to both Rupert and myself. At the end of the day, both he and Rupert only wanted what each thought was best for the kingdom. The only difference was the information they had, and the methods. Then upon his loss, Duke Lawrence’s first thought had been how he had lead his family to destruction.

There had been genuine relief when I’d informed him that his family was going to be spared. That much had not been an act. Like me, he genuinely cared for them. The only difference was the degree to which that was the case. He was right too; if I had been raised a noble, then my opinions might have been different.

I had taken several steps towards him while thinking, but as of yet he had not moved nor had he responded, “Duke Lawrence, do you have any last words?”

Such a courtesy was the least I could afford him now. But there was no response.

“Duke Lawrence?”

His head rolled to the side, and his body slumped forward. With a start, I realized he was not breathing. A quick look around the room quickly revealed the most likely culprit; the bottle of wine from earlier sitting on the small end table.

He… poisoned himself? Why? To save me the trouble? Fat chance.

A moment later, it hit me, “Ah…”

Rupert had killed the Second Prince using poisoned wine. If I had to guess, this bottle was probably the same label. During the whole conversation as well, Duke Lawrence had not bothered to hide the fact that he knew Rupert was responsible. Sure, he hadn’t gone out of his way to directly say it, but the way he had been talking it was pretty clear that he knew.

Then, why not go public with the information..? He could have ruined us.

I shut my eyes and shook my head. That wasn’t important now. I would bring it up with Rupert and Ferdinand later. For now, my mission was still incomplete. His being dead was all well and good, but it couldn’t be from poison. Getting to work, a quick stab from my dagger pierced through his chest and punctured his heart. Even if he was already dead, the sensation of rending flesh was still present.

Not that it was foreign to me, but this was the first time I had felt it from someone who was both a human and not actively trying to harm me. Something about that somehow made it feel… different. But once again, I was distracting myself; there were more important things to deal with. Anyone with any rudimentary knowledge would be able to tell the wound was post-mortem, but there were ways of obfuscating that.

Enhancing myself, I moved him quickly back into a sleeping position near the side of the bed. It would look a  bit awkward, but moving him back to the middle would take too much time. Already I had been here far longer than was wise.

Stepping back, I took a moment to verify my various stealth effects, then stretched out my hands, “[Immolate]”

The spell I talent cast was one afforded to me by my now repaired level three fire magic talent. It was also the first spell in that talent that was actually useful. Gouts of white-hot flame jumped from my hands in a sort of flame thrower, catching and igniting whatever they hit. Not that they hit much; the range of this spell was absolutely horrible, and it burned through mana like nothing else.

But it was enough. The body, the tent, and the wine would not survive intact and any evidence of poisoning would be hidden. Of course some blood tests might reveal the truth, but I, through Ferdinand would be the one in charge of the investigation. It would now be trivial to hide the truth. Silence did not block light, so the fact that something had gone wrong was now abundantly obvious to the patrolling knights and soldiers. Before any of them had a chance to barge in, I stole away.

The city would get one more day while our side sorted out this mess. Then it would fall.

 

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