It didn’t take long for Owen to hear of Jizelle’s condition. Even so, he was frustrated and infuriated by it.

“Where was she poisoned? With what?”

His aide, Michael, looked apologetic, wishing he could’ve brought his friend and king better news than the fact that Jizelle was laid up in bed, having been tended to by a doctor for an hour already. The only good news of it was that she’d survive. However, this time, it seemed to be worse than they’d seen for any of the ladies. Normally, after given a near universal antidote Haven’s flower, that was hard to come by as it was, they’d be able to stand within ten minutes. Jizelle, however, was still in bed, barely able to sit up.

“She was having tea with the other ladies in the castle. She was given Haven’s flower as the antidote. We’ve discovered the poison was Baevel Leaf. She will recover, but she is remaining in bed at this time.”

Owen ran a hand over his head, messing up his already unruly hair even more. Baevel leaf. It wasn’t that it was rare, but that it was one of the most potent poisons out there. Surely there would be some kind of trail this time, something to hint to the culprit, even if everyone already knew who it was.

Proof.

They needed proof.

“Tell me,” he asked bitterly, as if knowing the answer already, “was the Queen present for tea with the group of them?”

Michael sighed heavily. As much as Owen didn’t want to hear the answer, Michael didn’t want to give it to him. “No. Unfortunately, she was not. And all of her servants were within her manor on the grounds at the time.”

“All of them?” Owen questioned further, his brows drawn down over his eyes in suspicion.

“Yes.”

Every last one… was too suspicious. She wasn’t about to get caught, was she? Another one. It was the same kind of poison that had been used for the past six months, all in the following days after any of the girls spent the night in his room. Though, it appeared the dose this time had been tripled the usual.

Owen was beyond frustration and fury in his heart and soul, but he didn’t know what to do. He’d near banned most poisons from entering his borders, with high tariffs on the remaining ones which could be used medicinally given the proper scientific process to make it such. Some were used by medical facilities, with no problems rising from it. But he knew someone had to be smuggling some in for Queen Ariana. Someone was helping her and dodging the men and women who searched any and all luggage and carriages with trained animals.

He knew it was her, too. It was Ariana. He’d seen her smug smile at seeing an empty chair at the dining table any number of times, but there was nothing he could do without evidence. He couldn’t accuse her without knowing there was proof. He couldn’t just have his men search her rooms out of the blue. There would be backlash, and not just within the palace. If the tale was spun cleverly enough, Ariana would be the victim of horrid accusations by her own husband, by the man who was in charge of everyone’s welfare. Then Owen’s own standing as King would be affected greatly.

And if something was found in a maid’s room, she would easily get out of the situation, saying she didn’t know of her maid carrying such a dangerous item.

He sighed heavily, sinking down into his chair again.

This issue was almost getting rivaled by a new one, by the rumors spinning around about him.

An heir.

Or rather, the clear lack of one.

He tried not to think about that.

“So, there’s no evidence. Again…”

He wanted so badly to rip the truth out of the Ariana, interrogate her, name her a traitor, and banish her for all the trouble she’d caused the ladies in the palace.

But he couldn’t do that. Not without some kind of undeniable evidence to add to his claim. All actions she had taken with this poisoning business were done cleanly, with either no witnesses at all or with faulted witnesses who couldn’t give clear insight to the culprit. He’d had people watch Queen Ariana like hawks, just to see if she’d slip up, but the incidents continued.

Of course, there were still people who kept an eye on her, but these things kept going. Ladies kept getting poisoned or threatened in a dark corner nobody visited.

Nothing Owen did helped.

The maids who got interrogated after a poisoning in tea just a month ago had all been innocent, except one. She’d kept herself from talking, using that same poison on herself. A lethal dose kept on hand. He’d watched as the doctors couldn’t do a thing to save her. And for what, a master, a Queen who didn’t even notice she was gone, and if she did, she couldn’t possibly care less about it?

He closed his eyes in remembrance of that awful moment.

“That’s correct. I’m sorry,” Michael spoke sullenly.

Owen shook his head. “She’s too good at this. Just keep doing your best.”

“I will, sir.”

Owen turned the chair toward the window, toward the sunlight streaming into the otherwise dark and gloomy room. He let it wash over his hands and arms and chest. It wasn’t at an angle to blind him with light directly in the face. He drummed his fingers on the desk next to him, thinking useless thoughts.

If she’d survived…

He recalled learning of his engagement to the Princess of Exelia. How he’d been anything but happy and argued with his father for several days. He recalled her name. Adelia. He hadn’t even met her, and yet he couldn’t help but wonder, after all the conversations he’d had with her brothers, her parents, what might it have been like if she’d survived, if he’d ended up marrying her.

What might the palace life be like then?

Would there be an heir?

Would it be peaceful?

Might he have fallen in love with her eventually? Or would they have argued over matters of the Kingdom?

Would she have been miserable being at his side?

In all likelihood, she’d have made a better Queen than Ariana. Ariana knew her duties, knew her role, and yet managed to leave Owen with most of it. Would Princess Adelia have done the same?

Or… even that other noble lady he’d met a few times after the Princess was gone? She’d been the first choice of the court, loved by the people as well. If she’d not vanished as well… If anything, she’d seemed truly genuine and kind in the times he’d met her.

But then those green eyes appeared in his mind again, sparkling with mischief. He pursed his lips.

She would’ve definitely been nice to have around in the palace… if it had been her, he might not have cared about extra paperwork and duties.

He sighed.

But she hadn’t known his status. She’d been a commoner. And he’d been a prince. Would she have even felt comfortable stepping a foot into the palace? Who knew the answer to that? All Owen knew was that her kindness would’ve translated well to caring for the people of the kingdom, for aiding the commoners.

“Call Jizelle to my room tomorrow, if she’s able. I want to see how she’s faring with my own eyes. If she can’t, I’ll go to her.”

After being poisoned once, it likely didn’t get any easier in the following times. Jizelle had been here from the start, as the first mistress. Owen had grown fond of her as a friend and could easily tell if she’d been sleeping well or if she was worried. And this request, to see her so soon after this attack, was to make certain she got a night of good rest.

He knew all too well that in a room by yourself, with nobody to rely on when you’re ill is akin to getting a prison sentence, feeling like you’re about to die. If anything, if she’s really unwell, he was just going to keep her in his room while he worked until she was feeling better, so she wasn’t alone. He could ask her personally if she wanted another guard or increased security around her room.

In truth, he’d do whatever she asked.

“Of course,” Michael replied with a nod of his head. “And about your upcoming trip, which places would you like to visit and travel through?”

He spun back toward the desk. He glanced up at Michael with a shrug. “Any places you’d suggest?”

“I was thinking Rivedge on the way back, and since we don’t need to take the same route both ways, we can stop there to rest after returning to the kingdom.”

He nodded. “That’s a good idea.” He leaned over the map Michael placed on the desk before him, a few places marked and circled for the journey. He pointed down at the paper. “Do you think we should pass through the smaller ones on the way to the meeting? We gave them new seed years back, didn’t we?”

“Ah. Yes, we did. It would be nice to see how things are there as well.” Michael leaned forward with a pen, ready to mark on the map. “And might I suggest we go through…”