A Court of Hearts and Stone

39. Accusations and Victories

    Under the cover of night, Keitha Drach snuck into Celosia Lethe's house. There were no guards at the door. There were no servants in the hallway. Keitha silently made her way up the stairs, gripping a dagger tightly.

    She knew where she was going, thanks to some additional information from Kai. He'd told her the layout of the house, and she dredged up what she remembered from her own time there. When Kai had asked why she wanted to know about the house, Keitha gave a vague explanation about collecting ideas for a house of her own someday.

    She took a right near the library and came across a large carved door. Keitha let the door creak open. Celosia's bed was empty. There wasn't a fire in the grate and no candles were lit. Keitha entered the room and knelt by the hearth. She ran her fingers through the ashes lightly. They were cold. There hadn't been a fire here for days.

    Keitha lit a candle swiftly and began to go through all of the drawers in the room. She kept her ears pricked, listening for signs of life in the house. She paused and pulled a small bag out of one drawer. Within the bag lay several tiny crystals. She sniffed. They carried no scent.

    Keitha snatched up a piece of paper and jotted down her findings. She continued searching the room. In another drawer, she found several papers. She skimmed over them, realizing they were notes of some kind.

Hovel, two miles away from Offing. Likely northern.

Cadoc Rhys, assassin. History with Evren. Could be convinced to work for her.

Poison - failed, find alternative

Assassin is alive, believes he was hired by her. Keep it that way. May come in useful.

    Keitha pressed a piece of thin paper over the notes and traced them, securing them in Celosia's handwriting. She tucked the notes back where she found them and added the copy to her list of findings.

    Keitha searched the rest of the room, but found nothing more. She gathered up her papers and crept out of the room, closing the door behind her. She knit her brows, gazing down the empty corridors.

    Shouldn't there be at least a few guards or servants around? She wondered. Keitha made her way back downstairs and headed towards the servant's quarters.

    She paused outside the door and pressed her ear against it, listening intently. Not a sound came from within. Keitha pushed the door open. The beds were empty. There was no one but her inside the house.

    She breathed in deeply, detecting an odd scent in the air. It was both sweet and sour at the same time. Keitha crept further into the room. She held her candle up. There was a set of stairs near the back of the room. The smell grew even stronger as she approached them.

    Keitha swallowed and began the descent. The smell became overwhelming. Her heart pounded in her chest as she considered the possibilities of what she might find. Keitha reached the foot of the stairs and held her candle up.

    She had entered a cellar. Barrels of ale and several wine racks filled the area. A dark puddle leaked out from beneath one of the barrels. Keitha crouched beside the puddle and gingerly dipped her fingers into it. The liquid was thick and clotted. She held it to her nose. The coppery tang was unmistakable.

    "Blood," Keitha whispered. She stepped around the barrel and covered her mouth, biting back a scream. Duman Lethe's rotting corpse lay behind the barrel. From the looks of him, he'd been there several days, if not a week or more.