“Because I want to know why he did it.” She looked up, meeting his gaze. “I’d like your permission to try to find out.”
He couldn’t help but grin. “You don’t need my permission for this. You’re queen. This is your castle.”
Her face brightened. She so resembled her mother, with her dark hair and eyes. Even the golden circlet on the girl’s brow had once belonged to Chofya. It wasn’t the traditional headpiece of an Aneiran ruler, but it was far more fitting for the girl than was the great crown worn once by her father, and it became her, making her look older than she was and even prettier. She would be a beautiful woman and queen, were she to live that long.
“Really?” she said.
“Of course.” Chances were there was no mystery here at all. Numar had never imagined that Carden would die by his own hand, but there was no telling what a man might do when confronted with the prospect of his own death. Carden was brave, but he was also proud to a fault. Forced to chose between a quick death and a lingering one, turn upon turn wasting away in his shuttered bedroom, he probably would have chosen the former.
But what if the girl was right? What if there was more to this than any of them had guessed? With the surgeon dead, they might never know for certain. But it couldn’t hurt to have the child ask some questions. At least it would keep her busy while Numar saw to more important matters.
“If anyone refuses to help you,” he said, “tell them that I’ve asked you to look into this.”
She practically leaped to her feet, so eager was she to begin. “Thank you, uncle.”
“You’re welcome, my dear.”
She ran to the door, then stopped, facing him again. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“I mean about Father’s death.”
He paused briefly. “All right.”
“They didn’t let me see his. . see him. After, I mean. Did you see him?”
“No. By the time I arrived in Solkara, he had been taken to the cloister.”
“Well, everyone seemed so certain that he killed himself. I was wondering how they knew.”
Numar winced. The girl might have been intelligent beyond her years, but she was still only ten. Perhaps he had been too quick to encourage her in this endeavor. If Chofya learned that he had given Kalyi permission to look into Carden’s death, she’d have his head.
“I don’t think it’s my place to say. It’s enough for you to know that it was, from all I’ve been told, a rather gruesome sight. But not one that could be misconstrued. There can be little doubt that your father took his own life, Kalyi. I wish I could say there was, but I’d be lying to you. Your inquiry will be best served if you limit yourself to questions of why, rather than how.” He offered a sympathetic smile. “Do you understand?”
The girl nodded, looking far less hopeful than she had a moment before. “Yes, uncle. Thank you.”
She let herself out of the room, leaving Numar to ponder whether he had just made a terrible mistake.
The girl hadn’t been gone more than a few moments when there came yet another knock at the door. Pronjed.
“What do you want?” the regent asked as the Qirsi let himself into the chamber.
“You’ve had a busy morning, my lord. First the duke and now the queen.”
Numar raised an eyebrow. “Are you spying on me, Archminister?”
The Qirsi gave an easy laugh. “Of course not, my lord. But if I’m to serve you and this house, I should know as much as possible about the matters that occupy you.”
“I assure you, Archminister, if I determine that any of my private conversations pertain to you in any way, I’ll be certain to let you know.”
“You don’t trust me, my lord?”
The regent allowed himself a small grin. “No, I don’t. Nor do you trust me.”
“And yet we have a good deal to gain from working together.”
“I was thinking the same thing just a short time ago.”
Pronjed smiled. “I’m glad to hear that, my lord. Perhaps we can agree at last to put aside our differences, for the good of the queen, of course.”
“Of course.”
The Qirsi just gazed at him, as if waiting for something.
“Is there anything else, Archminister?”
“In fact there is, my lord. I’ve been charged by the queen mother with the responsibility of overseeing the girl’s studies.”
“And so you wish to know what we discussed.”
Pronjed shrugged. “If I may be so bold as to ask.”
“It was nothing, Archminister. She questioned me about her father.”
“Her father, my lord?” Something in the way the minister’s expression changed gave the regent pause.
“Yes. She wanted to know if we had been close as children. If I remembered what Carden was like as a boy, before he became duke and king.” He smiled. “It’s only natural, really. Having lost him at so tender an age, she finds herself desperate to learn all she can of him. Still, I thought it touching in a way, and just a bit sad.”
“Indeed.” The minister pressed the tips of his fingers together. “And your conversation with the duke? What was that about?”
He would have liked to tell the man to mind his own affairs, that a regent did not answer to a mere minister. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he told Pronjed the truth.
“He fears that I’m wasting time. That I ought to be planning for the girl’s murder already.”
“Why does he think this?”
“Because he thinks the dukes are more likely to follow a king than a regent.”
“He sees no danger in killing the girl so soon?”
“He claims not to, but I think there’s a part of him that would like to see me fail.”
“Even knowing that your failure could bring an end to the Solkaran Supremacy?”
“Yes.”
“How did you respond when he urged you to kill the girl?”
“I told him to be patient, that eventually I would rule Aneira as king, and when I did he would be rewarded for supporting me.”
“And did he pledge his support?”
“No. He thinks I’m destined to fail. He says I have enemies close by who will destroy me.”
“Did he say who they were?”
“No.”
The minister said something else, though Numar couldn’t say for certain what it was. Indeed, a moment later he found that he couldn’t remember at all what he had just been saying.
“My lord?”
He stared at the Qirsi for a moment. “What?”
“You were telling me that you’ve yet to hear from the emperor as to his request for soldiers.”
“Was I?”
“Yes. And so you don’t know how high to set the quotas for the other houses.”
“That’s right, I don’t. I expect it will be at least five hundred men from each.”
“Some of the dukes may object. Dantrielle, for instance.”
“Yes. Dantrielle, Bistari, perhaps Tounstrel. I’m aware of the problem.” He frowned. The man always seemed to be prying into Numar’s affairs, as if he considered himself regent. “The dukes are my concern, Archminister. I’d ask you to leave them to me.”
The Qirsi inclined his head slightly and stood. “Of course, my lord. Forgive me. I’ll leave you now.”
“Yes, please.”
He watched the minister leave, and only when the door finally closed did he feel his anger begin to sluice away. He would have to be more wary of Pronjed. The man was probably every bit as dangerous as Henthas. Numar walked back to his writing table and began to search for the most recent message from Braedon’s emperor. After a few moments he paused, however, gazing at the door once more.
Something about his conversation with the Qirsi disturbed him. If only he could remember what it was.
Pronjed strode through the castle corridors, his rage threatening to break free at any instant. It was bad enough that he had to humiliate himself before the Weaver, begging his forgiveness for actions that should have been lauded rather than punished. But to have to tolerate such treatment from the regent was almost too much. Numar might have been intelligent for an Eandi, he might even have been the canniest of the brothers Renbrere, but he was still a weak-minded oaf. Bending the man’s will and mind was proving itself all too easy. Unfortunately, what he had learned from this most recent encounter had disturbed him greatly. Numar, it seemed, was but one dolt among many.