I nodded. “We’ve stirred the pot, haven’t we?”

“You can say that again,” Kalon muttered. He couldn’t see me smiling beneath my sun mask. I found his broodiness a bit endearing, because I felt it was genuine. Nethissis’s death had taken him by surprise, and he was more than willing to help me figure out what had happened to her. My opinion of Kalon Visentis had shifted significantly from that first impression.

We stopped in front of the Rimian gardener, who bowed politely, nervously eyeing me. “Milady,” he mumbled.

“You were on the night shift here, weren’t you?” I asked, keeping my voice calm and soft. I’d learned to soothe my interviewees, especially when they were on edge like this guy. Maybe he was hiding something.

“I was, milady,” he said, avoiding eye contact.

Kalon was quick to notice. “What’s wrong? You look nervous.”

“Oh, no, milord. I’m… I’m just shocked by what happened,” the gardener managed, but I wasn’t buying it.

“What is your name?” I asked, keeping my hands behind my back.

“Beval, milady,” the gardener said. “At your service.”

“What did you see last night, Beval?” I replied, knowing he, like his colleagues, had already been questioned by the golden guards.

Corbin was still in the palace, interviewing servants. I had no idea what Petra and Zoltan were up to, but a murder investigation was definitely not their cup of tea, especially since they were keen to label this an accident. I could see why they didn’t want Nethissis’s death to be anything more than an unfortunate accident, but I cared very little for their national pride.

“Not much, milady. I was just tending to the nocturnal plants on the other side of the garden. I could not see all the way here,” Beval said, staring at the torn bush. His breathing was erratic. His heart was pounding.

“You know, there’s one thing I appreciate about good people,” I replied. “Genuinely good people. They’re terrible liars. Did you know that?”

Beval stared at me, his eyes wide and burning with guilt. “No, milady.”

“You seem like a very good man,” I said. “And a piss-poor liar.”

“Maybe you should tell us what you didn’t share with the golden guards,” Kalon interjected, his blue eyes reduced to cold, inquisitive slits. There was a threatening tone in his voice, one which beckoned Beval toward the truth—for more lies might get him in trouble, especially since he was so transparent.

I was being honest, though. Beval came across as a good soul. A kindhearted Rimian with thick black hair and a clean-shaven face. He couldn’t be older than twenty—still young and malleable, in terms of character. He could still be steered in the right direction with the right prompting. I’d met people like him before. Beval wanted to tell the truth, but he was frightened. I just had to figure out why.

“Milord, I don’t want to upset anyone.”

“You’re upsetting me right now,” Kalon retorted. He towered over the Rimian in a muted but menacing fashion. I gripped his arm and squeezed gently, quietly asking him to stand back and let me take care of this.

To my surprise, he didn’t question my intervention. On the contrary, he nodded once, allowing me to take over the conversation. Kalon understood what this investigation meant to me, so he’d let the more assertive side of him go dormant while we tried to find the truth.

“Beval, please,” I said. “If there is something you know about what happened here, please tell us. I just want to find out what happened to my friend.”

The Rimian looked at me, his eyes wide, his face red with… shame. “I am sorry, milady, but these are dangerous questions you ask.”

“I know you can’t really tell by my dress and all, but I’m perfectly equipped to deal with danger, regardless of its scale,” I replied.

Feeling Kalon’s eyes on me, I gave him a brief glance. Indeed, he was measuring me from head to toe, and it wasn’t the first time. Granted, I’d opted for a black leather dress with a full and rich tulle underskirt, and it did make me stand out, though not in a flashy way. It matched my mood.

My insides felt warm as he looked away and focused on Beval again, who was still having trouble opening up to us. I had to get him to talk, sooner rather than later.

“I won’t tell anyone whatever it is you’re keeping from us,” I said, trying to reassure him. “I only want to know what you saw, Beval. I’ll make sure none of the golden guards hear about this.”

Beval seemed tempted to trust me, but he looked at Kalon and was wary again.

“My lips are sealed,” Kalon said. “Esme and I are on the same team here.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, milord, if I find that hard to believe,” Beval replied. “Especially considering who your mother is.”

“Oh, snap.” I gasped, trying not to chuckle.

Kalon’s expression darkened, but he kept his composure incredibly well. I was impressed. “Believe it or not, I am not my mother’s appendix. I am my own person. Also, what does the high priestess have to do with any of this?”

“Lady Esme here wants to know what happened to her snake friend. The high priestess, much like the Lord and Lady Supreme, wants this whole business to be wrapped up quickly and without any additional fuss,” the gardener said. “I serve the empire, of course, and therefore I wouldn’t want my allegiance tested or doubted here.”

“Beval, look at me,” I replied, resting one hand on his bony shoulder. “I promise you that neither Lord Visentis nor I will breathe a word of what you tell us. But you cannot live with secrets. Not while I’m around, trying to find out what happened to my friend. If you don’t tell me what you know, if I have to get my truth from someone else, Beval… you won’t like it. Because I’ll be coming back for you, and no one will be able to protect you.”

Instilling fear in people was not my usual approach, but my patience was running thin. The more time that passed after Nethissis’s demise, the higher the odds we wouldn’t catch her killer. Beval was literally obstructing my investigation.

He breathed out, a faint whimper leaving his lips. He’d gotten my message, for sure.

“Milady… I will tell you. I hope you will keep your word.”

“We will both be quiet about your involvement,” Kalon replied. “I have no reason to screw you over, Beval. You’re a bloody gardener. I won’t even remember your name by tomorrow.”

Was that pure elitism or just a ruse to get the guy to talk? I hoped I’d get my answer later, though I was already hoping for the latter. Out of all the people I’d met here on Visio, Kalon was the one I prayed would not end up disappointing me—or worse, betraying me or my people.

“It’s not just the foxes we’ve been having trouble with, lately,” Beval finally spoke. “More than once, I’ve found foreign footprints and broken locks on the garden gates. I’ve seen shadows moving through the hedge maze. I’ve heard whispers… The attempt on Lady Crimson’s life was not the first time I’ve caught glimpses of Darklings in the palace.”

I frowned. “You mean to tell us the Darklings are frequent covert visitors?”

“Most of the time, I think they’re just scouting. Looking for the right entry angles. They know the golden guards’ movements. I warned them several times about Darklings, but they didn’t do much,” Beval explained. “I do know the fiends hang around the gardens a lot. Those of us on the night shift have learned to steer clear of the sections where we spot them. If we leave them be, they leave us be, too.”

Kalon’s jaw was practically dislodged as he listened to Beval.

“What about last night?” I asked the Rimian.

Beval motioned around us. “I saw them here and there, about twenty yards away. ”

My heart stopped for a moment. “Did you see Nethissis with them? My friend?”

“It was too dark, milady,” Beval replied. “But they moved slowly until they got to this bush. Then they ran off and jumped over the fence.”

“Did you see where they came from?” I asked. Tension gathered in my throat like a great ball of fire, threatening to explode and consume me. I needed to keep my wits about me.

Beval nodded slowly. “From the palace. One of the service doors, most likely. They probably had keys or broke the locks. It doesn’t really matter. If they want to get in, they get in.”

“Why didn’t you tell the golden guards about this?” Kalon demanded, a muscle ticking angrily in his jaw. A five o’clock shadow was growing, accentuating the sharp line of his high cheeks.

“I don’t know, milord. I worry some of them might be friends with the Darklings,” Beval whispered. “It’s why I fear for my life. Why I stay quiet.”