Book One: The Marigold's Larkspur ~ A tale of mystery, magic, and obsession.

Chapter Twenty-six

Quail's expression faltered as he registered the shock in Cressida's eyes. "You didn't know?"

Cressida mutely shook her head, her mind struggling to comprehend the magnitude of the revelation.

"I saw it, Birdie." Quail said quietly, his tone softening as he watched her face. "I saw your viper strangle his own father to death."

His words hung heavy in the air, casting a grim pall over their conversation. The room seemed to spin as she grasped onto the iron bars for support, ignoring the stinging pain from the glass shards likely still embedded in her fingers.

"...that can't be true," her voice cracked.

"Oh Princess, I wish it wasn't, but I was there."

"Where?"

"The king's bed chambers. I had been waiting outside as close as I could get for days. I had finally learned the guard's routines. Finally managed to distract them long enough to sneak in."

"Quail, were you insane?!" She exclaimed, "What in Eflia's name was your plan?"

"Well, at that point, I thought the king was still in mourning. I was going to barge in there, and..." Quail trailed off. "Well. It wasn't a good plan, I'll give you that. But you were imprisoned. Our people were getting picked off one by one. And I felt helpless. But regardless, when I got inside, I found the king unconscious on the bed. In a coma."

"A coma...?" Cressida echoed, realizing it matched what Callidus had told her before. "Callidus...Callidus told me he's been ruling in his father's stead since Ferox died."

"That's probably true." Quail conceded. "The king was lying in bed for what seemed to be a while. Given the smell. No one was allowed inside, but that's typical for the period of mourning in Ashlar."

"Smell?" Cressida repeated, feeling a slight wave of nausea. "...are you sure the king wasn't already dead?"

"No." Quail shook his head. "Trust me. I checked to make sure, but he was still alive. Just unresponsive. I was so baffled, I froze, and then I heard the guards come back and I was trapped."

Cressida's mind swirled in confusion and horror. "But when did you see Callidus...?"

"I'd been in the room for maybe an hour or two. I was in the king's wardrobe trying to reason with some rats, get them to distract the next guards on rotation, when I heard someone come in." Quail paused, "The smell in the air cleared immediately, too. Must be a useful trick. He did that when he came in here as well. Sorry about that, by the way, Princess. Not much circulation down here."

"...It was Callidus?" Cressida pressed, and Quail sharply nodded. Her heart skipped a beat, "Did he see you?"

Quail laughed lightly as he gestured to the prison cell around him. "Obviously, Princess. But not at first. I closed the wardrobe doors in time."

Cressida leaned closer to the iron bars, her voice barely above a whisper. "What happened next, Quail?"

"Well, I watched him through a crack in the door, as he approached the king's bed and spoke to him as if he were awake."

A shiver ran down Cressida's spine, "What did he say?"

Quail frowned. "He always talks in that low, brooding whisper so it was hard to hear but it was undeniably chilling. He said something like" Quail's voice lowered as he tried to replicate the eerie tone. "...finally taking what was rightfully his." Quail shook his head, as if trying to clear it from his mind. "He had this whole one-sided conversation with his unconscious father, standing over him and. Well, gloating. No other word for it."