Page 9 of The Study of Poisons
“Drink up so we can start today’s lesson.”
She squeezed the liquid into her mouth and cringed. White Fright’s bitterness made it hard to conceal.
He took the pipette and handed her a blue jar. “Take a sniff.”
She held the jar under her nose and inhaled, closing her eyes briefly as if committing the scent to memory. When she glanced at him, he gestured to the food and asked her to find the omelet laced with the poison.
He kept a tight hold on his neutral expression as she sniffed each plate. Finally, she pointed to the correct one.
“Good. Should you pick up that aroma from any of the Commander’s food, reject it. The poison is called Tigtus and a single grain of the powder will kill within the hour.” Or in Oscove’s case, ten grains of the powder had killed him in five minutes. Valek removed the tainted food. “Eat your breakfast.” Pointing to the remaining plate, he said, “You’ll need your strength.”
After she devoured the food, Valek waited to ensure her stomach wouldn’t rebel before he had her sniff a number of poisons whose scents were hard to mask. When she put her head in her hands and asked for some paper and writing implements, he realized he’d overwhelmed her with too many. He should have known better.
While angry at himself, her request reminded Valek about how she repaid the kindness Brazell had shown her. He shouldn’t forget she was a murderer.
“I don’t know why you continue to surprise me. I should have remembered that General Brazell educates his orphans.” He found a book, quill, and ink and tossed them in front of her. “Take them back to your room. We’ve done enough for today.”
And he might have to repeat everything because of his mistake. He noticed she was lingering at the threshold. “Now what?”
“I’m not sure where my room is.”
He certainly didn’t have time to escort her. “Ask the first housekeeper or kitchen maid you find; they’re always scurrying about this time of day. Tell them you’re in the west servant wing, ground floor. They’ll show you.”
* * *
Later that day,Valek was interrupted when Margg arrived to clean his office. She scowled at the mess, but before she could wield her dust mop like a weapon and force Valek to retreat to another room, he called her over to his desk.
Margg wore a housekeeper’s uniform which consisted of a long black skirt and black shirt. Her white apron sported two vertical lines of red diamonds and covered her from neck to floor. It was pristine as always and cinched at her wide waist. Everything about Margg was wide and she was a force to be reckoned with. She was also trustworthy and had been loyal to the Commander well before the takeover.
She scowled at him but stood in front of his desk as requested.
“I’ve a new job for you,” he said.
“More babysitting the new rat?”
“Be nice. Yelena might save the Commander’s life someday.”
Margg harrumphed. “She’s more likely to endanger it.”
“You say that about all the food tasters.”
“Because they’re all murderers,” she spat. “I’ve told the Commander a dozen times to change that rule. But he ignores me.” Her tone was outraged.
Valek suppressed a smile. Margg could have had any job after the takeover—adviser, spy, general, assistant cook—but she insisted on being the Commander and Valek’s personal housekeeper, because she didn’t trust anyone else to take care of them the right way. It was like having a very grumpy mother around.
“What’s the job?” she asked.
“With Oscove dead, Star is going to be searching for another source of information in the castle. I want you to be that leak.”
“Me? I’d never sell secrets!”
“I know, but Star doesn’t. And because you’re so close to me and the Commander, she will consider you a gift from the sky.”
“Or sent to spy on her,” Margg said. “I’m well known to be loyal.”
“And well known to be disgruntled.”
Another harrumph, proving his point. “It’s ’cause you boys are always in some sort of danger.”
