Page 185 of Onyx Cage: Volume II

Rowan blinked irritably. “No, but?—”

“Brother,” Korhonan cut her off. “Surely you aren’t suggesting that the princess bested a seasoned warrior with no more than a dagger.”

He wasn’t conniving by nature, but he must have hidden some of his brother’s penchant for falsehoods underneath his unending nobility, because even he couldn’t have failed to notice that she had done just that on more than one occasion.

But Iiro didn’t correct him on it, though he had witnessed the exact same thing. More than that, he didn’t so much as blink at Korhonan’s interruption of his proceedings, nor his defense of Rowan.

The pieces fell into place so much slower than they should have, laden down by the oppressive weight of my shock and my fury. That was why he had drawn out his accusation of my wife.

So that his brother would intervene, so that he could lead them to the far more likely culprit. After all, why bother getting Rowan out of the way when she would be powerless without her husband here?

“Naturally not,” Iiro agreed, letting out a chuckle that grated against my bones before he looked pointedly at me, just as I had known he would. “But someone else had easy access to Lady Rowan’s dagger. Only one person, in fact. Someone who had ample motive to want Sir Aleksander out of the way.”

I fixed him with my glare, not bothering to hide my disgust for him.

“If I wanted my father out of the way— “And of course I did, for more reasons than this aalio would ever understand. But I wasn’t an idiot.“Why would I wait until I was in your castle, surrounded by potential witnesses?”

Mikhail might be a coward, but he wasn’t an idiot, and Andreyev was, by all accounts, a fair lord. Logic was not an entirely lost cause.

Iiro was unfazed.

“Because he was about to help me enact a law to feed our people, one you staunchly disagreed with.” He explained in the patient tone of a man speaking to a small, obstinate child. “We all heard how you felt about that.”

“And why would I use my wife’s dagger?” I countered, willing my hands to stay calmly at my sides rather than hurl one of my own daggers at his sternum, just to show him how little reason I had to use Rowan’s.

Since my many hidden weapons might be needed soon, I narrowly refrained, even when he shook his head in mock disappointment.

“Poetic justice?” he offered. “You appear to have grown rather fond of her for reasons unbeknownst to me, and he did order her flogging, did he not?”

We both know he didn’t.But he also knew I couldn’t reveal that now, not when I had hidden my father’s condition.

“He did,” Ava supplied, lying as easily as she breathed.

Her bloodstained hands were fisted at her sides, but that could have easily been explained away by grief to anyone who didn’t know what a conniving witch she was.

Rowan glared at her, lips parted, but Korhonan cut in before she could respond.

“If he’s fond of her, that hardly seems a reason to implicate her in his father’s murder.” He emphasized each word, clinging to only the barest hint of deference.

Iiro only waved his hand, the gesture as placating as it was dismissive.

“You said yourself, Brother, no one would believe someone Rowan’s size could take down the duke. She was never in danger.”

Korhonan clenched his jaw, not buying his brother’s unending load of horse dung for a rare change.

“Then why implicate myself that way?” I demanded, impatience creeping into my voice.

Iiro actually tutted. “A clever misdirect, obviously.”

“Your Majesty.” Theodore’s tone was sharper than I had ever heard him use with his brother, each syllable clipped with barely concealed anger. “I’m sure no one here believes that Lord Evander would murder his own father and the duke of his clan.”

Perhaps it shouldn’t have been surprising after our conversation earlier, but somewhere past my fury, the smallest bit of gratitude crept in. He was speaking up not just for Rowan, who he had believed himself in love with, but for me.

Whether it was out of some long-lost semblance of friendship or loyalty, or just his scruples rising up against his brother’s blatant deceit for a change, I could appreciate it all the same.

Though Iiro decidedly could not. Where he had been expecting his brother’s interruption the first time, Korhonan’s determination to counter him was clearly wearing on his patience now, if the warning glance he shot was any indication.

“And can you vouch for his whereabouts between dinner and the time Sir Aleksander’s body was discovered?” Iiro demanded, fixing his brother with a pointed stare.