a maid arrives with a tea service, a bowl of fruit, and an assortment of breads and pastries. Cal thanks her and says, “Miss, do you happen to know where we can find the duke?”
“Oh, he’s gone to town, to the solicitor’s office, my lord,” the maid responds.
“Any idea when he’ll return?”
“Usually when the duke goes to town, he’s gone until early evening, my lord. He left orders not to serve a full luncheon this afternoon. Do you need anything more?”
“No, thank you,” Cal says.
As soon as she leaves the room, he and Shadow nod to each other. Today they will make a much more thorough search of the duke’s study. Cal hopes he won’t have to kiss anybody to get out of it.
* * *
CAL LISTENS AT THE doorway like the last time. Nothing. Shadow turns the knob—it doesn’t budge. Locked.
“Now what?” Shadow says. “I doubt we’ll get another chance. We can’t stay here forever. Maybe we can go outside, try to get in the window? It may even be open for air.”
But Cal is already picking the lock with the sharp tip of his dagger. He jerks it to the side; there’s a satisfying click. He returns the dagger to its sheath and turns the knob again. The door swings open. “Listen for anyone snooping around,” he tells Shadow.
“Always.”
Cal closes the door and locks it behind them. He checks the windows. If the duke comes back earlier than expected, they can climb out and drop down fairly easily. The drop is only about six feet. There are bushes, but if they fall in the right place they can avoid those.
He didn’t notice the first time, but the duke’s office is filthy with dust. The maids must not be allowed in very often. There are stacks of papers on the desk, some discarded drafts with large inkblots marring the words, some with lines of text crossed out. All of them appear to be real estate and tax transactions or household expense logs, receipts, records of staff payment. Cal is careful not to move anything out of place—he knows that even if it appears to be a reckless mess, the duke almost certainly has a method, and will be able to tell if something is amiss.
Shadow scans the shelves on the wall. There’s far too much to go through in detail, row upon row of old ledgers and saved papers stored in leather boxes, lined up by size. She takes one of the boxes off the shelf and lifts the lid. “Nothing,” she says. “Same as what’s on the desk.”
The desk has drawers on each side. Cal opens them one by one as Shadow had the first time they were in the study. Papers. A book of Montrician history going back to the time of the ancients. Quills. An old, stained inkstand. Empty ink bottles. Full ink bottles.
“This is odd.” Shadow had stood on a stool and taken one of the boxes from the top shelf. It’s opened on a petite round side table next to a reading chair. She holds up a piece of paper. “Look.”
Cal takes the paper from her and reads it.
BILL OF MORTALITY
A REPORT MADE TO THE KING’S MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY
By the company of the parish clerks of the capital of Montrice
Does hereby declare the mortal deaths of Their Royal Highnesses, The Grand Duke and Duchess of Girt
It is dated twenty years ago, a few months before the letter from King Esban, thanking the duke for his hospitality to his late brother. But how could the duke host King Almon if he was already dead?
Cal hands the paper back to her. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
She nods. “The real Duke and Duchess of Girt are dead. They’ve been dead for over twenty years.”
“So who are these imposters?” asks Cal.
“Their murderers,” Shadow says, shuddering.
“Except the duchess is our age,” says Cal.
“Or she only looks like she is,” says Shadow. “She could be a witch, or some kind of shapeshifter.”
Cal is about to agree when she holds up a hand. She hears something. They stand still as stone. Seconds later they hear walking in the hallway right outside the door.
Cal places his fingers around his dagger. His window plan seems silly now—they can’t get to the window; it’s on the other side of the room.
They stand there, waiting, a box full of the duke’s personal papers spread out in front of them.
The footsteps continue past the study door.
Shadow lets out a huge sigh of relief. Cal