Elias rolled his head to the left, to the right, trying to release the tension gripping his muscles. His shirt was halfway unbuttoned, the belt on his slacks undone. What he wanted was sleep.

With Erick preparing all the evidence to be sent to Somero, and all their friends accounted for, it was time to rest and replenish his flagging energy.

A quick knock at his bedroom door halted his fingers on the final button of his shirt. At the end of the third tap, the door opened.

People entering unannounced was becoming commonplace, he thought, as his father stepped into the room. There wasn’t time to be surprised.

“I just got a call from Aleksi,” Sander said.

Elias knew by his father’s sober tone and serious expression that something else had happened. He wasn’t expecting his stomach to tighten into sudden knots or for his shoulders to tense up as if in preparation for bad news.

“There’s been a botched attempt in Somero. Inside the palace,” Sander said. “The younger sister, Lisbet, has been poisoned. Thane is sending Inari to Imatra for protection, and I want you and Erick to stand in my place as delegates and extra support. Fly to Imatra as soon as possible. I’m leaving later this afternoon and won’t be here to help. If I could cancel the trip, I would. Thane mentioned that he would have sent Inari here first, because he feels the island is more defensible, but only if I was in residence.”

Elias began buttoning the shirt back up as he listened. He knew before his father got to the part about traveling to Imatra that that’s what the plan would be. Regardless, he would have gone anyway. He and Erick could take the photographs with them and deliver the evidence in person.

That wasn’t the only reason he wanted to go.

“Will Lisbet live?” Elias asked as he stalked to the en suite and his closet. He needed new clothes to take on the plane, even though there were always extras on board for emergencies. He planned to wear what he had on, shower once the jet was in the air, and don a new suit.

“They don’t know yet.”

Elias clenched his jaw as he snatched two garment bags off the rack and exited the closet to the main bedroom again. “Did Erick tell you he possibly found evidence? He might have a lead to the perpetrator.”

Sander’s brows arched. “What? No.”

“He probably didn’t want to wake you. He found it in the middle of the night. We were going to send the photos over to Somero anyway, so we’ll just take them with us to Imatra. Perhaps the images will trigger a memory in Inari or her guards.” Elias tossed the garment bags on the bed then approached the dresser.

“Have duplicates made and sent to Thane as well. He can have his men work on it while you’re querying Inari. Keep me updated,” Sander said, and then exited the room.

Elias wasted no time gathering a few essentials and packing them into a suitcase. The garment bags contained clean, pressed suits, ready to go when he needed them.

As he packed, he thought of Inari. Of what she must have been feeling since her sister had been attacked, to know someone was targeting King Thane’s heirs.

Elias wondered if their younger brother, Carsten, was next.

If all three heirs were killed, would Thane be targeted last? Who stood the most to gain if the entire line was wiped out? He knew Thane had siblings. One of them, the next oldest, would inherit the throne.

Perhaps that was the direction everyone needed to look for possible suspects, as difficult as he knew it would be.

All Elias knew was that none of the recent events boded well for the kingdom of Somero.

---

Four hours later, Elias led Erick up the front steps and in through the open doors of Rehn Castle. Security had been doubled along the route leading in to the medieval fortress, at the outer gate, and at the entrance to the castle itself. There were more guards in the expansive foyer, flanking a stone staircase, and at the archway to the great ballroom.

Imatra’s sovereign, Aleksi, was taking no chances with Inari’s life.

“I’d heard you’d arrived,” Caspian said as he quickly descended the stairs. He looked smart and sharp in a suit of black on black. “Inari is upstairs, finally sleeping.”

Elias shook hands with Caspian once they were within range. “Good, she probably needed the rest.”

Caspian next shook hands with Erick. “Good to see you.”

“Same, Caspian. Wish it was under better circumstances,” Erick said. “I’m going up to do some work. I’ve got more pictures to look through. Fill me in later?”

“I will. Your room is the same as it always is,” Caspian said.

Erick diverted toward the stairs and disappeared up them a moment later.

Elias clapped Caspian on the shoulder as the entourage disappeared onto the second floor. He and Erick—all his siblings—were as comfortable in Caspian’s home as Caspian was in theirs. Years of bonding, travel, training, and hanging out had produced a strong bond between the younger generations.

“So tell me what happened,” Elias said as he accompanied Caspian into a hallway. He knew by the direction they took that they were headed to Caspian’s office rather than the private parlor. The office doubled as a personal library and was attached to a solarium that let in giant streams of light. Elias knew it was one of Caspian’s favorite places in the entire castle. Once they entered the office, Caspian closed the door and led Elias past ornate bookcases, several desks and chairs, and a baroque-inspired fireplace to the solarium. Glass panes soared overhead, allowing several trees and other greenery to grow even in wintertime. Caspian gestured to an array of seating situated before a series of statues carved by a master’s hand.

“Let me just cut right to the chase,” Caspian said as he sank into a leather chair. “Lisbet happened to sip from a cup meant for Inari.”

Elias chose a wingback opposite, his brows arching at the news Caspian delivered. “What? How can anyone be sure?”

“Apparently, Inari enjoys a hot cup of cider every evening before bed. Everyone at the castle with intimate knowledge of the family knows her habit. It just so happened that Lisbet wanted a mug as well, and she fell sick first,” Caspian said. He shook his head in a way that suggested disgust.

“That does seem pretty targeted. Or maybe the person wanted to hit as many people as they could with the cider. Surely someone else drinks it?”

“That’s the thing. The chef makes Inari’s batch special. It doesn’t get distributed to the whole staff. So I’m thinking someone in the castle itself is out for her blood, or someone has been compromised and is acting on someone else’s behalf. Everyone is being questioned, so the answers won’t roll in for some time. I do know the contents of the mug have been sent off to be studied.”

“I’d started to consider who would benefit best from the death of the whole line,” Elias confessed. He steepled his fingers together, elbows resting on the arms of the chair. “But if it’s Inari being targeted specifically, that might not be the case.”

“You could be onto something there. I’d thought the same thing.” Caspian sat forward in the seat a few inches. “Thane’s brother, Thomas, passed years ago. Freak accident, as we all know. But he’s got seven children, and the oldest of those is Gustav, who stands to inherit the whole damned thing if Thane dies, too.”

Elias was not surprised that Caspian had already done his homework and had thought along the same lines as himself. They were often on the same wavelength. “I have never met Gustav. But now I’m curious.”

“I made a few discreet phone calls,” Caspian admitted with a sudden grin. He raked his forelock back with a hand, though the silky black strands fell right back across his brow. “Gustav has a sterling reputation. I couldn’t find anyone with a bad thing to say about him.”

“It would have been too predictable, I suppose, for it to be the opposite,” Elias said with a wry twist of his lips. He considered others in the extended line then grunted. It could have been any of the seven children—or none.

Probably none.

“I had asked Inari about a possible beau, at one point. She blew that off pretty quickly. Have you heard of anyone taking their like of her too far? Someone in our inner circle, perhaps?” Elias asked.

“I haven’t. The women in our families might know more. They’re always whispering about this, whispering about that.” Caspian sounded wry.

“Emily is off on a photography trip, and my younger sister, Eliana, would rather be chatting about weaponry and combat techniques than standing around, simpering with the women.” He almost laughed at the image he conjured of his youngest sibling mingling with gowned, perfumed ladies.

Caspian did laugh. “Don’t we all know it? She’s hellfire, pure and simple.”

“Good thing she wasn’t born first,” Elias said, unable to quell a brief rumble of amusement. Eliana as queen of Latvala would shake the world to its core.

Or at least Latvala and its neighboring countries.

Caspian joined in another round of laughter. “God help us all. Ivanna may know something. She’s in Paris right now, though. I can message her, see what she says.”

“Any lead is a good one,” Elias said.

“Speaking of a lead”—Caspian snapped his fingers, as if something had just jumped to mind—“I was telling my father about your dagger and its unusual crest. He told me that, sometimes, secrets like that were kept close to the vest and not written about like everything else. Then he mentioned the bad blood between his father and Aksel, and that apparently the rivalry or bad blood dated back decades, if not centuries. I inquired over the reason, of course, and he said rumor had it that there was a botched alliance attempt or something and the two kings never got over it. So both kings dissuaded their offspring from making alliances in the future. I got the idea that my grandfather and yours perhaps attempted some sort of ally status, but there was a blowup or disagreement early on and they stopped speaking altogether. Anyway, I wondered if any of our old history books referenced it, or there may be papers that dictate the details. All I know is that it’s not spoken about, or common knowledge, all these years later.”

By the time Caspian was done speaking, Elias was sitting forward in his chair, listening with rapt attention. In his lifetime, he had not heard of these dustups, hadn’t known not to befriend the Rehn heirs. His father, Sander, had always encouraged a bond and a friendship and, as far as he knew, had a great relationship with King Aleksi.

“That’s fascinating. I had no idea,” Elias said. “While I’m in residence, would you mind if I peruse your libraries?”

“Of course not. You’re welcome to them. I’ll even ask my father if you can access what we jokingly call the Crypt.”

“The Crypt? What is that?”

“It’s a large cavern down near the dungeons that holds all the most precious artifacts and scholarly works from as far back as they were kept. I’ve only been in there twice myself.”

“Why so few times? I would live in a place like that,” Elias said with a laugh. “We have our most valuable tomes and things under glass at Kallaster. The rest of it is sitting on bookshelves.”

“I was always more interested in the present, to be honest. Still am. All those dusty books and papers have little meaning for me. If I want to see my ancestors, I can walk down any hallway here in the castle.”

Elias understood that feeling. Family portraits in most monarchies were commonplace. “Do you mind if I get started now? Since we’re in a holding pattern.”

Caspian smiled and pushed to his feet. “Come on. I’ll show you the best place to begin.”