With a groan, she started pacing again. How could she bear to lose her father? She’d known him for only a few weeks.
After she’d stopped her father from finishing his bowl of soup, he’d stood up to make an announcement to all the people in the Great Hall. An important matter of state had suddenly come up, and he needed to confer with the Lord Protector and general. Everyone else was to remain and enjoy the feast. Then he’d ordered Jensen to take her to the tower while he and the other men rushed off to his private rooms.
“Men,” she grumbled once again.
“Does that include me?” a young voice asked.
She whirled to find Christopher standing by the window. Smiling, she rushed toward him. “How could I be angry with you? You’re my hero!”
Christopher grinned. “Well, you did make me a knight.”
“That’s right, Sir Christopher.” She curtsied, which made him grin even wider. “I am deeply indebted to you. Thank you so much.”
He ducked his head, blushing.
“Do you have any news? Is my father all right?”
Christopher nodded. “He has a stomachache, but the physician says that he’ll live.”
“Oh, thank the goddesses.” Luciana made the sign of the moons.
Christopher gave her a curious look. “Tatiana told me you’re from the Isle of Moon?”
“Yes.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I was sent there as a baby. I didn’t even know I had a twin sister till a few weeks ago.”
Christopher stuck out his bottom lip. “I was a little mad at first that you had tricked me. But Tatiana said you and the duke would be killed if anyone found out.”
Luciana nodded. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. But I’m glad you know the truth now and that you’re friends again with my sister.”
Christopher smiled shyly. “I have two new friends now.”
“That is true. Is the general all right, too?”
“Yes. His son took him back to his tent. I don’t think they liked our physician.” Christopher wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like him, either. His stuff is nasty. It made the duke throw up.”
Luciana grimaced. It did sound bad, but perhaps it had been the best way to get the poison out of her father’s stomach. “Do you know where the Lord Protector is? Is he hunting down the assassin?”
Christopher shook his head. “He was busy talking with your father. But he doesn’t need to do any hunting. I know who poisoned the soup. I saw her. That’s how I knew—”
“Her? The assassin is a female?”
“It was Rowena. One of the scullery maids. I think she did it because she was angry. Dax was her boyfriend.”
“Oh, I see.” So the assassin who had killed himself was Rowena’s lover. Luciana bit her lip. The poisoning could have been an act of revenge. Rowena might not be the last assassin after all.
“I’ll let Leo know.” Luciana smiled to herself. “It’ll irritate him no end that my spies are better than his.”
Christopher grinned. “Yes, we are!”
“Another excellent spy reporting in,” Tatiana announced, and they turned to find her standing by the bed.
“Hi, Tatiana!” Christopher bounced over to her.
She patted the boy ghost on the back. “You saved my papa’s life, you know.”
Christopher blushed once again.
“How is Father doing?” Luciana asked.
“He’s expected to make a full recovery,” Tatiana said. “Mama wanted me to tell you so you wouldn’t worry.”
“Thank you.”
Tatiana gave her a sympathetic look. “And I’m supposed to warn you that the physician is on his way here.”
“Why?” Luciana asked. “I didn’t eat any of the soup.”
“Papa doesn’t know that. He’s afraid you could be sick, too.”
Luciana groaned. “If they would just let me see him—”
A knock sounded on the door, and Jensen called out, “My lady, the physician is here to see you.”
Christopher shuddered. “He’s nasty. I don’t want to see him again,” he whispered, then vanished.
Tatiana grimaced. “Prepare yourself.”
“How bad can it be?” Luciana’s only experience with a healer was the sister at the convent who was renowned for her expertise and pleasant manner. But the gagging face her sister was making seemed to indicate a different story here at Vindemar. She swallowed hard and unlocked the door.
Jensen regarded her with a look of sympathy. “The physician is here. Master Wormwood.”
“I have no need of a physi—”
“Stand aside, man,” a gravelly voice ordered Jensen. “This is a matter of life and death.”
“I’m not dying,” Luciana began as Jensen stepped aside to reveal a portly man in a filthy tan robe that ended in tatters above dirty feet encased in leather sandals.
His eyes were black beads, embedded in a puffy red face. Beneath his red button nose, his greasy mustache descended into a long, scraggly beard. Long hanks of hair were plastered across the top of his balding head. His looks were bad enough, but the stench emanating off him nearly bowled her over.
She coughed, her eyes watering.
“Aha! A sure sign the poison is at work,” Master Wormwood announced. He strode toward her, his smell wafting ahead of him like a sulfuric cloud.