He’d justified the practicality, telling himself that knowing when his assistant was in trouble was essential.
And he’d live in that denial if he could.
“No, it doesn’t negatively affect her, but it is permanently on her body.” Clare raised a brow, waiting for Trystan to understand her point.
But he already did, and he knew he was a bastard.
“That aside.” Tatianna leaned closer. “Are you any closer to determining who here is selling you out?”
“It’s nobody in the manor,” he said flatly, feeling more lost and frustrated than ever.
His guards, who had the best kind of loyalty—forced—hadn’t uncovered a single ounce of guilt among his one hundred and two employees. There wasn’t much else to do but turn to his other conclusion: that someone was getting in and out of the manor right under his nose. And it didn’t escape him that the person who’d been doing this always struck hard when he wasn’t there to sense them, to find them, to eviscerate them.
There were just too many variables, and they were no closer to answers.
“I’ll simply murder King Benedict, and then I won’t have to worry about it anymore.” Trystan seemed to be chronically accompanied by a headache lately, and the one person who helped to relieve that symptom had gone home for the day.
“Sounds good to me,” Tatianna said cynically, rolling her eyes when Clare glared at her.
“Killing someone is never the answer.” Clare frowned.
“I admire your moral heart, little sister,” he said. “But killing is often my favorite answer.”
Clare remained quiet for a moment, assessing him with such familiar eyes. “I was surprised to see how much you care for your…employees.” She used a plural word, but they both knew she was referring to a single person. “At first I thought Malcolm was exaggerating.”
“He wasn’t.” Trystan didn’t have it in him to lie. “In fact, I’m sure he understated it.”
Clare nodded. “Well, I hope that—” She halted.
“Sir!” Marvin—Trystan’s favorite, if he had favorites, which of course he didn’t; he was evil—his not favorite guard barreled through the doors, sweat from sprinting up the stairs running down his forehead. “A missive came! Keeley told me to give it to you urgently!” Marvin reached out to hand it off but doubled over his knees to suck in a breath.
“I know.” Blade walked over and slapped Marvin on the back. “Those stairs are their own form of torture.”
“Funny,” The Villain said dryly, reaching a hand out for the message, then quickly sliding the envelope open and scanning the page. The words etched there froze every muscle in his body.
“What?” Clare pressed. “What did they find?”
“Clare…” He trailed off, confusion numbing him. “The knight who bought the blue ink, who bought the timepiece from Malcolm…”
“Yes?” Clare said, sounding nervous. The rest of the room stood at attention, Marvin included.
“He’s dead.”
“What?” Clare staggered, pulling a hand through her short, dark locks, perhaps even pulling out a chunk. “So someone got to him first?”
“No, you don’t understand,” The Villain said. “The knight, Lark Moray, perished a day after purchasing your ink. He couldn’t have been the one to get the clock from Malcolm. He was already gone at that point.”
Trystan felt like he was outside his body, like he had separated from himself while his mind filed through what this meant. “We’ve been following the wrong trail this whole time.”
“It wasn’t him, then, who set the bomb,” Clare said incredulously. “But then—” Clare threw her hands over her mouth in shock. “East Marigold.”
“Who?” The Villain pressed.
“He always asked so many questions about me, about my family. He was so kind, though, I never thought.” Clare’s eyes watered.
“I don’t understand,” Blade cut in. “So it’s a different man? What’s the big deal?”
“There’s more, isn’t there?” The Villain pressed further, feeling like a disaster was looming right over them.
“Y-Yes.” Clare stiffened her lip, looking haunted. “The man who comes to see me, he uses a fake name. I mean, we all knew East Marigold had to be an alias. It’s ridiculous. But he came drunk just the other night and accidentally gave me the real one. After he left, I checked the town registry to be sure he wasn’t some sort of criminal, and it was there.”