Chapter 440: The Evidence That Was Found

Chapter 439: The Evidence That Was Found

Aldric sighed and shook his head.

He crossed the chamber at once, his stride measured yet swift, and came to stand before Corvin, who remained upon the floor in a state of considerable shock, his legs splayed before him.

"I did warn you to keep silent, my lord," Aldric said, his voice sharp, and perhaps carrying the faintest edge of irritation.

But even so, he extended his hand to Corvin, offering him assistance.

Corvin stared at the proffered hand a long moment. Then he struck it away, rose to his feet unaided, and set about dusting off his garments. His movements were quick, ill-tempered, and entirely lacking in grace.

Then he returned to his search.

He wrenched open the wardrobe once more, though he had already searched it thoroughly. He rifled through its contents again, shoving garments aside, feeling along the shelves with his own hands. He found nothing. He had found nothing upon the first attempt, and he found nothing now. He closed the doors with a huff of frustration.

Then he marched towards the bed.

He dropped to his knees, heedless of his joints’ protest, and set to searching beneath it. His hands moved blindly across the floorboards, feeling for anything out of its proper place, anything that might have been concealed.

Somewhere above him, a mutter arose from Duke Thorncrest.

"Search to the right. It is to the right. It was placed there."

Corvin did not perceive that he was following the Duke’s very words. He did not perceive that his hands had begun to move rightward, his fingers tracing along the boards as though guided by some unseen hand.

"To the left. It is to the left. I recall it now. It is to the left. It was hidden there."

His hands moved left.

"Further still. Further, more to the left."

His hands stretched further beneath the bed, his shoulder pressed against the frame, his very cheek nearly touching the floor.

"No! It is to the right!"

His hands snapped rightward.

"To the left again!"

His hands moved left once more.

"The other side! The other direction entirely!"

Corvin adjusted his posture, shifting his whole body, following these directions as faithfully as though they were his own thoughts.

Then a snore issued from the bed.

Corvin paused.

"Where is it?" he barked.

Suddenly, the Duke cried out.

"I am sorry!"

The shock of it startled Corvin violently. His hand slipped against a rough nail protruding from the floorboard, and a sharp sting lanced through his palm. He hissed, drawing his hand back, pressing it to his chest as a thin line of blood welled from the wound.

The chamber fell silent.

Then, of a sudden, the Duke began to thrash upon the bed.

He screamed — a terrible, choked sound — his hands flying to his chest, clawing at the fabric of his nightshirt as though he sought to tear something away from himself. His body twisted and writhed, his legs kicking out, his head thrashing from side to side.

"Stop," he screamed. "Make it stop."

Aldric bowed hurriedly to Sir Aldous.

"You must take your leave at once," he said. "We have disturbed His Grace’s rest, and he is much afflicted by nightmares. Should you remain, matters shall only grow worse, and I cannot vouch for anyone’s safety."

For some reason, Corvin was put in mind of Duke Valenridge, and without further thought, he fled the chamber entirely, not troubling himself to wait upon Sir Aldous and the guards.

Aldric bowed once more.

"I offer my apologies," he said. "Once I have settled His Grace, I shall send for you again."

Sir Aldous shook his head.

"There is no need whatsoever," he said. "Had His Grace been guilty of the charge, we should surely have discovered something by now. I apologise for having disturbed his rest."

Aldric bowed a final time, and Sir Aldous departed with his guards, the door closing behind them.

Some minutes passed, and then Duke Thorncrest sat up within his bed.

"How was my performance?" he asked quietly.

Aldric’s lips twitched, a soft laugh escaping him despite himself.

---

Corvin and Sir Aldous proceeded next to Duke Frostmere’s chamber.

They searched there precisely as they had searched everywhere else. Wardrobes were opened and examined. Boxes were inspected. Chairs were checked thoroughly. The space beneath the bed was explored with the same diligence as before.

But there was nothing whatsoever to be found.

Sir Aldous, once this final search had concluded, gave Corvin a long, searching look.

"My lord," he said, "are you entirely certain of what it was you witnessed?"

Corvin offered him no answer.

He was far too occupied wandering through his own thoughts, turning over the events of the night, endeavouring to comprehend how his scheme had come to such ruin. The evidence had been planted — of this he remained certain — so how, then, had not a single trace of it appeared throughout the whole of his search?

Sir Aldous waited a moment, then sighed and took his own leave.

They reported their findings first to the Crown. Princess Jacinta had been present throughout, and had regarded Corvin with open disgust, her eyes sharp with displeasure. The King and Queen, likewise, wore expressions of considerable distaste, and the Queen was heard to mutter that he was, in truth, good for nothing whatsoever.

Only once the report had concluded did he make his way to his own private chamber. He had been humiliated a second time this night.

But first he intended to deal with the guard who had caused him to suffer such humiliation.

Upon reaching his chamber, he opened the door, closed it behind him — and then stopped short, for his guard and his valet lay bound together before the hearth, trussed up as though common criminals.

Their mouths were gagged. Bruises marked their faces and arms. Both slumped forward, quite insensible.

And piled upon them, draped like some grotesque mockery of decoration, lay three cloaks — the very same, he was certain, he had instructed his guard to conceal within the suspects’ chambers.

They were heavily perfumed, the scent thick and cloying, filling the small chamber with an overwhelming sweetness that turned Corvin’s very stomach.

Upon them lay a great parchment, inscribed boldly in a bold hand.

Corvin frowned as he read what precisely had been written there.

’Your evidence.’

And then he swallowed hard.