Page 130 of Thorn Season
I’d suspected it when I’d realized the passage in Carmen’s closet led to these chambers, but there had been too many gaps I’d needed to fill before confronting Sabira. And now I knew: While I’d been right about Wray’s affair, I’d been wrong about his lover. He hadn’t journeyed into Henthorn that night for Nelle.
All along, it had been Sabira.
“Tell me,” I goaded, “was it difficult to kill your own lover?”
“How dare you,” she said, breathing fast.“Get out.”
“This will be much easier if you answer my questions.”
“I don’t answer to children.”
“Very well.” I continued for the lounge. “Maybe you’ll answer to Briar.”
Her voice lashed out like a cane.“Wait.”
I turned slowly, head tilted.
“You know what Wray was,” she said, her voice guttural. “How could one noblewoman have killed a Hunter?”
“During the throes of passion, I expect.”
“For what possible reason?”
“Wray was a stern, diligent man. He must have been infatuated with you to have shirked his duties. I imagine he told you everything, from the number of Wielders he’d killed to the object he carried.”
Sabira shook her head in disbelief. “Thecompass? You think I cared about that thing? Iloved him.”
“The worst things we do are often to those we love.”
She opened her mouth but seemed to choke on her words. Her expression hollowed. Then she sank to the bed, her leather creaking. “Parrey is so far from Vereen that we could rarely sneak moments together. But we always met when I was in Henthorn. We arranged to see each other the night of Erik’s coronation, when the festivities would make it easier to go unnoticed. But Junius ambushed me in the Games Hall. He was young and arrogant, and I relished the challenge. I came up half an hour late, pockets full of his gold. Wray was on the bed. The blood—” Her voice broke. She gulped. “The blood was everywhere. I tried to stanch it, but it was too late.”
“You moved the body. Why?”
“For the same reason Wray and I hid the affair: Capewells don’t allow love matches. Love makes Hunters weak. Briar would have blamed me for his death, and she would’ve slaughtered me.” Sabira shuddered. “But Wray was too heavy. Rupert was the only one who knew of our affair. I trusted him, and I called on him to help move the body.”
“Through the palace passages?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound too eager.
“Yes,” she said, and I silently exhaled. “I knew the passages well by then. We smuggled him to a Henthornian alley, in an area wellknown for its sympathizers...”
“And you left his body atop a drainage gutter,” I finished. Not to stop the blood from running into the street, as Garret had said. But to hide thelackof blood. To make it seem as though Wray had been killed in that alley.
And to erase any evidence linking him to Sabira’s palace chambers that night.
Sabira nodded. “When news arrived of his death, I went on as if I’d hardly known him. As if”—she gave a ragged laugh—“I hadn’t given my heart to a dead man.” She fondled her emerald ring, the only real jewel she’d kept. Then her gaze hardened. “Weeks later, Rupert made his first request for payment. He knew about the Capewells—the Creakish supply their dullroot—and he knew I feared them. He threatened to expose where he’d found Wray’s body.”
“And reveal that he’d helped cover up the murder?”
“You know better than anyone where the king’s favor can get you. Even then, Rupert was Erik’s pet. He knew Erik would pardon his crimes before Briar discovered his involvement.”
I nodded, unsurprised. When I’d first entered these chambers, I’d startled at the sheer abundance of fake jewelry along with the absence of personal luxuries. I’d fleetingly compared Sabira’s style of living to Rupert’s lavishness, and realized the imbalance was too large—toostrange. Then I’d remembered Tari telling me about Sabira’s dislike of Rupert, and I’d gone digging for more information with the Creakish bookkeepers.
Again, my theories were confirmed. Sabira had trusted Rupert. And the bumbling, liquor-pickled man I’d once seen trying to carve a turkey with a butter knife had been cunning enough to leverage that trust against her.
“I started accumulating mercenaries for protection,” Sabira continued. “But between their fees and Rupert’s blackmail, my gold was depleting. I couldn’t dip into the family coffers without rousing suspicion, so I continued with the gold I won at Aces.” She nodded to her jewelry box. “Then I sold the jewels.”
“And that must have kept you afloat,” I said, “until Rupert demanded more gold this season.”
Sabira looked up, stunned.
