There is a serial killer in Castle Krakenburg. And they're plotting to murder the Queen of Nohr.
Prince Leo is in charge of the investigation, but with no evidence and little time, he's struggling to keep his sister safe. He desperately needs help...
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The novel was not only beneficial in occupying me, but also in stimulating my brain. I read the entire story in one sitting and was delighted when I reached the end and found out who the murderer was.
I lay down in the early hours of the morning, feeling that I would wake up refreshed and ready to investigate again now that I had solved a fictional mystery.
But my brain had a different idea.
I was standing in the entrance to the gambling hall again, alone, aside from Sasha's bloodied corpse. She was lying in the same position as she had been the day I'd identified her, staring at the ceiling.
"You're just as bad as him," she whispered. Her lips didn't stretch and flex to form the words. They just flapped open and closed like a porcelain puppet. "What gave him the right to take my life? What gave you the right to take his? You're not my sister anymore. You're a murderer!"
***
I woke up just a few hours later when Clara came in to relight the fire. If at all possible, I felt even more exhausted than when I'd closed my eyes.
I sat still until the flames had got going, avoiding the cold air outside my bed. I felt chilled enough as it was. Had killing Janus been the wrong thing to do? It certainly hadn't made me move on from Sasha's death. And now that my numb feelings about the matter were starting to fade, I felt guilty.
"You're just as bad as him," Sasha whispered.
I shivered and looked over my shoulder, expecting to see her standing behind me. When I looked back, Clara was beside my bed.
I jumped and almost screamed.
Her eyes widened, apologetic and guilty. She spread her hands in a helpless gesture. Then she looked at the book on my bedside.
"I read it all last night," I said. "I loved it. Thank you."
I handed it back to her. Another scrap of parchment was sticking out of the top like a bookmark, containing my own message.
Why did they take your tongue, Clara?
***
I dressed in a red skirt, matching cloak, and white blouse, starting to become fond of being fashionable. I fastened my weapons belt around my waist and put on some black stockings, then tied the laces of my boots. Hopefully, no one would notice that I was wearing the same ratty footwear each day. I didn't want to part with the knives concealed inside.
As no one had died during the night and there were no meetings to attend, I followed Clara to the dining room to have my first meal with the royal family.
The dining room was -- to no great surprise -- dark, but it was an improvement on most of the castle. Vibrant paintings of horses hung on the walls, a crystal chandelier was suspended from the ceiling, and in the middle of the room was a dining table covered with a red cloth and several bowls of colourful fruits.
