“Of course not, Dickon!” the king said with rising anger. “You’ve proven yourself loyal over and over. Probably one of your Espion,” he added with derision. “Seeking to catch me fondling the princess or some such rubbish. I don’t like those Espion, Dickon. I need them, but I don’t like them.”

Ratcliffe’s tone bridled. “If it weren’t for them, you would have failed at Ambion Hill, sire.”

“If it weren’t for them, my nephews would still be alive,” he countered bitterly. “I don’t need to be reminded. So we have another traitor among our ranks. I didn’t set that candlestick there. You didn’t. Who do you think it belongs to?”

“It might be her,” Ratcliffe said in a low, dangerous voice. “I think she’s moving freely in the castle again. There are rumors that she’s been seen.”

The king gave a weary sigh. “With all the power that comes from this golden band, why cannot I find a single woman who haunts my steps and overthrows my designs? Even my brother would not tell me who she was.” He grunted with anger.

Owen’s arms and legs were beginning to cramp. The door leading to the king’s chamber was still open, just below him. If he fell, they would no doubt hear it and then see him.

“She may still be here in the room,” Ratcliffe said. “Let me summon the guards to search. The candle was still warm.”

“Do it,” Severn said. “If you catch this poisoner, I want her executed immediately. Do you hear that, my dear? You thought to catch me unawares whilst I slept? Call my guards, Ratcliffe. Make sure all the Espion know that helping her is treason in my eyes. Are you hiding over here, my dear? Hmmm?”

The sound of heavy footfalls flooded the tunnel as the two men began to tromp through the chamber. Owen’s fear made him tremble, and his knees and arms were shrieking in pain. Ratcliffe summoned the king’s guard into the room, who promptly and thoroughly began examining every nook within the chamber. If Owen had tried to hide in there, he would have been caught for certain. After several minutes of clamoring, the hunt was called off. Owen’s muscles throbbed and shook, but he would not give up. He held himself perfectly still, wedged up in the corner above the door in the narrowest part of the tunnel. If Ratcliffe had thought to look up, Owen would have been spotted in an instant.

Another voice joined the sounds, a young woman’s voice. “Are you all right, Uncle?” Princess Elyse asked, her voice full of concern. “Someone tried to kill you?”

The sound of her voice sent a surge of relief through Owen. He had not spoken to her in quite some time, and he was grateful to know she was still at the palace. The knowledge did not help his cramping muscles.

Severn’s laugh was self-deprecating. “I’m just a crouch-backed soldier, lass. No one tried to hurt me. Get you back to bed.”

“Who was it?” Elyse pressed, her voice anxious.

“We think it was your mother’s poisoner,” Ratcliffe said venomously.

Elyse’s voice was firm. “I don’t think she would hurt you, Uncle.”

“Am I supposed to derive comfort from that?” he said with a chuckle. “Do you know who she is, lass? If you know anything about her, you should tell me.”

Owen’s stomach twisted with dread. Don’t! he wanted to call out. It was me! It wasn’t her!

“I don’t know her name,” Elyse said hesitantly. “But I have seen her.”

“Recently?” Ratcliffe pressed. There was an intensity to his voice.

“No,” she replied simply. “Not since before Father died. My mother doesn’t want you dead, Uncle.”

“Quit listening in on your betters,” the king barked angrily. “You are all useless. Be gone. Go outside.”

Owen wasn’t sure what was happening, but then he realized the king had been addressing the soldiers. The door shut with an audible thud.

Then the king sighed heavily. “Lass, you should not speak so freely in front of people. I could see by the look on your face that you were going to reveal more than you ought to have.”

“I’m sorry, Uncle,” she replied meekly. “I know you are worried about rumors. I will go as well. It’s just that . . .” She stopped short.

“What, lass?” he asked softly, almost tenderly.

“Your Majesty,” Ratcliffe said in a warning tone.

“Be silent, man! She’s my niece. She is the only colorful thing in this drab world. The only nectar amidst so much poison. Say on, lass.”