When they got to the palace, it stood proud and tall like a sentinel intimidating and watching the city.
Lyra mounted the marble steps without haste, Kaelen a half-step behind, his plain livery making him look more dangerous rather than less. Captain Delan waited at the top as usual with his signatory fake smile plastered on his face.
The antechamber gleamed with the winter sun and malice. The ladies pretended not to stare and the courtiers pretended not to whisper.
Kaelen took his place behind Lyra's right shoulder, the position of a man trained to kill first and apologize later. He didn't look at the Queen when they were admitted in. He only had eyes for Lyra, and then, when the ritual demanded it, he looked at the throne.
The Queen was all indulgent in silk and tired mercy. "My little Vale," she purred. "Is the toy amusing?"
Lyra kneeled with precision. "Useful, Your Majesty."
The Queen's eye caught Lyra's, a private jest, in them.
"Useful things must be proved. You wished to prove your loyalty, now prove it." The Queen gestured to the dais below her and at kaelen. " Kneel!"
Kaelen went to one knee without hesitation, eyes on Lyra's profile. The court rustled like paper. The Queen's fan whispered. "Rise. Turn. Bow."
"Kaelen obeyed perfectly. Old court bow, the sort a prince would have learned before he had teeth.
A murmur ran through the nobles, more like a rumor, a little prophesy remembering itself.
Charming," the Queen said. "And the matter of Lord Harrow?"
"Nearly being resolved," Lyra lied. "I will deliver the truth, before the month is gone."
"Before the week is gone," the Queen corrected, smiling. "Else the wolf goes back to his chain."
Lyra lowered her head so no one could see her jaw harden. "As you command."
"Delan," the Queen said lazily, "Show our fixer the testimony collected since last night."
They were dismissed to a side gallery where sunlight cut squares on the floor. Delan handed over a neat bundle,witness lists, timings, a map of corridors, while never once taking his eyes off Kaelen.
"I hear you live under her roof now," he said conversationally. "How brave and foolish of her."
Kaelen's mouth did not move, but something in the air leaned closer to breaking. Lyra turned a page and did not look up. "
When you're done with your pointless and idle banter Captain, perhaps you can point me to anything useful?"
"There." He tapped the map where Lord Harrow had fallen. "Closed window. Unlocked exterior access. Two sets of prints. One light, one heavy."
"Like a servant guiding a guest," Lyra said.
"Like a guard escorting a prisoner," Delan returned. "Which you may dress in finer words, but it remains a chain."
She tucked the bundle under her arm. "Schedule an audience with the Master of Servants."
"You have one in... oh." Delan smiled. "Now."
The Master of Servants arrived with the smell of starch and fear. Lyra asked two questions and the third made him sweat through his collar.
" Who had keys to the old laundry chutes?"
"Outer office," he stammered. "For moving linens to the stillroom. The Queen's clerks."
Lyra thought of the star-cracked wax. Kaelen felt the shift, as if the truth had just leaned a degree to the left, but they kept their observations to themselves.
As they made to leave. Delan stepped into their path.
"One question," he said provocatively. "If I decide to leash your wolf for the Queen, will he kneel just as sweetly?"
Kaelen smiled without showing his teeth. "Try it."
Delan's eyes enjoyed the invitation a little bit too much. "I will."
Lyra broke it up before the inciting banter could go any further. She knew what was at stake and was not going to let their pride get in her way.
They returned to the marble and mirrors.
The Queen was receiving petitions but Lyra and Kaelen were motioned forward with a flick of a ringed hand.
"At week's end," the Queen reiterated lazily. "Bring me a murderer, Lyra. Or bring me his head."
"You'll have the first," she said, with a little shiver and meant it. The second would cost more than even a queen could afford.
Outside, the winter light stabbed as Kaelen matched her step. "Was that a threat?" he asked.
"Time is more important now," was the only response she dignified his questions with.
The carriage door opened.
Lyra climbed in, Kaelen after. The door shut as the silence settled.
"Say 'down' again," he teased, too low for anyone but her to hear.
Her body remembered faster than her pride.
She looked out the window instead. "We are not alone."
He settled back, a storm remembering manners, but was uncomfortable with the secrets he sensed between them, so he decided to ask again, hoping she would be responsive.
However, nothing prepared him for her response when he paraphrased his first question, sincerely curious. " What debt do you owe the queen?"
"Only my head, If I misstep." she responded pensively. Leaving Kaelan more confused than ever.