Poisoned.
“The wine?” Alex echoed, piecing things together more quickly than I. “When Verity came in this afternoon, she was…not herself. Spacey and giggling and just wrong. I thought she and Mother had only gotten tipsy, but if the wine had been drugged…how much did you drink?”
“I had a glass,” I murmured. “Maybe two. I didn’t like the way it tasted…the way it made me feel. I thought it was just very strong wine…”
The duke swallowed, his stare severe. “And Dauphine?”
“The rest of the bottle…and another,” I admitted, cringing. “Maybe more?”
He let out a sharp sigh, shaking his head.
“We never ordered it,” I remembered suddenly. “The serving girl just brought it to us. She said it was from your special stock.”
Gerard froze.
“This was at the Adler’s Crown?” Alex guessed. He shifted toward his father. “You keep a room there. Everyone in Bloem knows that. Anyone could have slipped something into your vintages. It would have been so easy. But who would want to hurt Mother? Or Verity?”
Gerard’s gaze landed upon me, swift and terrible. I could see a lie forming on his lips.
Alex, lost in thought, didn’t notice. “You don’t think…” He ducked his head close to mine, his voice hushed. “Could it have been them?”
“Them?” Gerard repeated, catching his son’s words, his ears as sharp as a bat.
I started to shake my head, denying it. Julien wouldn’t have, I was almost certain. He was so set on righting wrongs and going through proper channels. He was protocol and reason, meticulously rational and by the book.
But Viktor…His anger, once sparked, could blaze out of control. And he was so very angry. The unexpected speed with which he reacted made him terrifying, but also an unlikely choice for a poisoner.
Poisoning took time and skill. It was methodical. It required so many steps.
It was not a process I could see Viktor undertaking, he who flared hot and bright and fast.
“No,” I decided. “Not them.”
Alex looked unconvinced.
“Alexander,” Gerard said, poised at the edge of his chair. “Who are you talking about? If you know someone who might have hurt your mother…who might have hurt Verity,” he added after a slight hesitation, “you must tell me.”
“Must I?” A dangerous current rippled beneath the two short words, and when Alex glanced at his father, his eyes were dark. “Must I tell you things, Father?”
Gerard looked taken aback. In all my time at Chauntilalie, even at his angriest, I’d never seen Alex so hostile.
“There are all sorts of things you’ve never told me.”
He licked his lips. “What do you want to know?”
“Why don’t you start with my brothers?”
Gerard had the audacity to feign confusion. “You…you don’t have any brothers, Alexander. You know that.”
“Viktor and Julien’s presence suggests otherwise,” I said, ready for his game to be at an end.
As their names were said, Gerard paled, sinking back into his seat as if I’d physically struck him. “They’re here?”
I nodded.
“I should have known they’d make their way to Chauntilalie after that fire. Arina’s heart!” Gerard struck the table in self-reproach. “It’s not safe for you here, Alex. It’s not safe for any of us.” He shifted his attention to me. “You need to get Frederick to order the three of you a carriage and get away from here. I will deal with the pair of them as I should have years ago.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Alex said, bucking his father’s plans. “Mother is dead. We have to”—he swallowed—“send out an announcement, call in the Sisters of the Ardor. We need to prepare her body with seeds, return it to the earth. We have to—”
“I know the order of mourning,” Gerard snapped. He raked his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends with a growl of frustration. “None of that matters now.”
“Because of them?” Alex questioned, his voice sharp as a blade.
Gerard nodded.
“Because of who?” he persisted. “Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”
Gerard let out a pained sigh. “Your brothers.”
The two men stared at each other in heated silence but I could feel the words each wanted to say, to scream, piling up on either side of the desk.
“Brothers,” Alex finally spat out. “I have brothers. Brothers you kept from me.”
“Brothers I kept you from,” Gerard said, emphasizing the difference. “I can’t imagine how angry you are at me, Alexander—especially having only heard their version of the story—but I did the right thing. I will always swear I did the right thing.”
Alex barked out a burst of bitter laughter. “The right thing? You sent your sons away. You exiled them. Children.”
“Monsters,” he amended.
“They were boys!”
Gerard turned to me. “You’ve seen what they can do?”
Reluctantly, I nodded.
“Then you know what I did was right. I was right!”
“But you made them,” I began, trying to stop the rising tension from drowning us all. “If you think them monsters…why did the experiments continue?”
“Experiments?” he echoed innocently, sweat beading across his brow.
“I was in that nursery. I saw those babies. And Constance,” I added with grim finality.
Gerard’s eyes darted to Alex, registering his expression. When he finally spoke, he kept his voice carefully restrained. “I took care of that before she ever got to you.”
“I saw them.”
“You did?” A wondrous smile crept over his lips and my insides tightened, feeling sick. I’d just confirmed he’d been right about me. I was as every bit as different as he’d hoped. As he’d dreamed.
I wanted to wipe the look of reverenced awe from his face.
Before I knew it, I was on my feet and across the room.
“I’ve seen this too,” I snarled, pushing aside the false bookshelf and revealing the rows of jarred babies.
The room fell silent.
“What…” Alex cocked his head, trying to understand what he was looking at. “What is that, Father?”
He pushed himself toward the shelves.
“Alexander, don’t!” Gerard protested. He stood but made no further motion to approach his son.
Alex picked up one of the jars, gently turning it around until the baby inside faced him. I saw a flash of teeth and too many eyes before looking away.
A noise of disgust escaped from Alex. “How could you do that, Father? How could you do any of this?”
Gerard’s face fell, smoldering with disappointment. “If I’d not done that,” he replied, echoing Alex’s tone, “I wouldn’t have you.”
Alex tucked the jar back into the case, shaking his head. “I’m nothing like that. Nothing like any of these.”
“You’re right. You’re more. So much more.” He pushed back the waves of his hair. “You are my greatest achievement, Alexander. And you don’t even know it.”