The Queen's Secret (The Queen's Secret #2) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,31
gown is white and plain. I think that’s one of the reasons I like him. He’s not one of Hansen’s usual courtiers, caring more about appearance than his profession. He’s a serious person, particular about things.
“I’m not sure what to say, Your Majesty,” he tells me. I’m seated on Father Juniper’s chair, my hands trembling in my lap. In front of everyone else I must seem poised, more concerned than upset, but here in the small room with only the physician present, I don’t have to hide my shaking hands or worry if I am tearful. The quiet of the chapel is spoiled by the guards and their thunderous footsteps, people coming and going. But here there’s just me and Martyn, and poor Father Juniper.
“You’ll take him away and examine him?” I ask.
“Of course, yes. It certainly looks like some kind of poison. But I’ve never seen anything quite like it. It will take time to determine what it is, and we must all be quite careful, for the residue could release further contamination.” The physician sniffs at Father Juniper again. “It might be some potion of roots and herbs, but there is something else to its smell that I can’t place. Earthy and damp, yes, but more like a feral animal than something dug up from the ground.”
I sit forward, eager to hear more. “You mean it’s more animal and less plant?”
“From the smell of it, more creature. Yes.” He nods, and rocks back on his heels. “A strange thing. Impossible. Perhaps it is some kind of fungus.”
“A magic thing, perhaps?” I suggest. “You don’t think . . . you don’t think the scribe really did see a gray monk?”
“How is it possible?” The physician shakes his head. “The door to the tower is guarded at all hours. The window in this room is small, and there is no fireplace. The only entry is through the chapel. Still, I will speak to the captain of the guard about searching the building again.”
The entire castle has been searched daily, I think, and nothing—and no one—found, apart from an illicit litter of pups that one of the pages had hidden in the cellar, and a stash of summer wine, stolen from the royal stores, in one of the barrack rooms.
The physician stands, dusting off his hands. His nails are always short and clean; I’ve observed them before. I wonder if he’ll bandage his hands before examining Father Juniper’s body in more detail.
“The dark arts are not my area of expertise, ma’am,” he tells me. “I can only work within the confines of the material world and my knowledge of the human body. When the material world is warped or infiltrated by greater forces, not subject to the usual mechanisms of my practice . . . well.”
“Well indeed,” I say. My aunts, Mesha and Moriah, would be able to help the physician, I know, though I don’t say this aloud. One thing I’ve learned here in Castle Mont is that the powers of Guild women are not always respected. Sometimes, I suspect, they are feared.
“With your permission, we will remove the body from the tower to my chambers,” the physician says. “My assistants and I will do our best to test this alien substance and solve the mystery of its composition.”
“But not the mystery of how it might have been ingested,” I say. “Or who might have administered it, and when.”
Martyn says nothing for a moment. His eyes meet mine, and I realize we share the same guarded look, the same careful approach. Neither of us uses the word murder, even if that’s what we’re thinking.
“I can only diagnose and, if the patient is alive, treat him. If the patient is dead, I can look for causes, but not reasons. Or conspiracies.”
“I understand,” I say, getting up with as much dignity as I can muster.
“Any other investigation is the domain of the captain of the guard, Your Majesty,” he says, and bows his head. “And at the behest of the Small Council. They’re in session now, you know. After this . . . news.”
I feel myself redden. This is insupportable. Irritation must have registered on my face, because Martyn bows again.
“I’m sure they assumed you were upset, ma’am, about the death of your priest, especially as you were the person to discover his body.”
“No one,” I say, in my most imperious voice, “should ever assume anything about me. I shall go to the Small Council.”