A Summit in Shadow (Ducal Detective Mysteries Book 4) Read online

  A Summit in Shadow

  A Ducal Detective Mystery

  Sarah E. Burr

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Sarah Burr

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Printing, 2017

  www.sarahburr.com

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Dedications

  The Ducal Detective Mysteries:

  The Ducal Detective

  A Feast Most Foul

  A Voyage of Vengeance

  A Summit in Shadow

  Chapter One

  The crisp fall breeze swirled playfully around her skirts, a chill sweeping up her legs. Shuddering and wondering the cause for the sudden change in weather, Duchess Jacqueline Arienta Xavier pulled her woolen shawl tighter around her trembling shoulders. Just yesterday, she had gone for a ride down to the river, her horse panting in the fierce autumn heat. Yet, overnight, frost had formed on the ground, a reminder to her now that she could not escape the upcoming months of winter that lay ahead. Her amethyst eyes assessed the effect the frigid air had on her gardens, frowning as flowers wilted, their petals scattering the ground in a limp farewell to the summer months.

  Oh, what a wonderful summer it had been, the Duchess thought, absently twirling the emerald and purple pendant hanging from her regal neck. She had spent most of the warm months celebrating, traveling throughout her duchy to announce, even to the most remote villages, that their mighty sovereign was to be wed. Looking down at the necklace bearing the colors of Saphire and Pettraud, Jax smiled at the memory of Perry’s face when he asked for her hand in marriage. While initially their courtship began as an arrangement designed by their fathers, over the past year and a half it had blossomed into real love. As Duchess of Saphire, the most powerful nation in the Realm of Virtues, love and marriage rarely went hand in hand, but the Virtues had aligned and blessed her with a consort she cared for deeply. To her delight, but not true surprise, the rest of her duchy was thrilled that Lord Pettraud, the seventh son of Duke Pettraud, a neighbor to the north, was to become a Saphirian. It was hard not to like Perry, and everywhere they went, commoners and noblemen alike flocked to his side, eager to meet the new Prince Consort.

  The thought of her fiancé calmed her nerves, for she had more pressing matters to attend to than her upcoming nuptials. Her brow wrinkled in disdain at the impending political summit that was to be held in little over a month’s time. The castle had been a sea of chaos for the past week since receiving the summons, her royal advisors and courtiers arguing amongst themselves about Saphire’s current position in the everchanging political landscape. Jax did nothing to interrupt their bickering, for their opinions meant very little to her regarding the matter at hand. Regardless of their arguments for or against, Jax’s mind was already made up. Saphire would not accept the rebellious Cetachi as a true state unless a dukedom was to be formed.

  For centuries, the most northern region in the Realm of Virtues had been a wilderness full of rogues and wild men, raiding and terrorizing the duchies on its border, spreading their terror out across the realm. There was no ducal family to rule, no laws of any kind binding the land. As a child, Jax knew her father had struggled but eventually obtained a peace treaty, offering food and supplies to the region to alleviate the raids that resulted from the desperation of the Cetachi people. Merchants from the north were allowed entry into the realm’s marketplaces, selling their goods, helping stabilize the economy of the war-torn region. Because of these strides her father had helped institute, Cetachi had begun to pull itself out of its tribal ways and into a somewhat functioning society…a society that, according to reports, had elected a governor to oversee the region, but ultimately answered to the people who had elected him to the position.

  The summit she was to attend was a gathering of dukedoms to meet with this new governor and review a proposition to adopt Cetachi into statehood. Or at least, that was the goal of Duke Lysandeir, the ruler hosting the summit. As Cetachi’s western neighbor, the snow-capped mountains of Lysandeir had been heavily assaulted by the rebels over the years. According to reports, the Duke was desperate to reach a peace agreement with this new figurehead that would be both binding and everlasting.

  While Jax understood and sympathized with the man’s struggles, she had studied diplomacy and politics since her early days at the Academy, and even before then, as a child at her father’s knee. The masses simply could not be trusted to elect a true and just leader. Experience had shown her throughout her twenty-eight years that people could lie and manipulate their way to the top and easily fool the masses into securing power. What measures had been put into place to ensure Cetachi was not in the hands of some monstrous dictator, hellbent on revenge against the other duchies? Due to Cetachi’s isolation, Jax had learned very little about this Darian Fangard, the newly elected Governor, and that lack of understanding scared her even more. Was this summit a well-laid trap, a plan to overthrow the ducal families and hold the realm hostage?

  Many of her court advisors had suggested that she broaden her mind and be open to the proposed change. Cetachi’s method of electing their leader was of no threat to the strongest duchy in the Realm of Virtues, so why should she protest the opportunity for peace? What these councilors didn’t understand is that once word got out that the common folk held influence in Cetachi, others would thirst for that power, too, within their own borders. Jax shuddered to think of tensions rising between nobles and commoners, all wanting a stake in selecting who was to rule over them.

  What her advisors failed to realize was that she had been born into her role, trained from the moment she could walk and talk to protect and serve her country. Had this Darian Fangard sacrificed his entire life for this new position? She highly doubted the man had spent years away from his parents and home, studying day in and out how to be an effective, gracious, and just sovereign, putting his duchy before everything else in life. No, the man had only recently come into power because of soothing words and brass actions, riling on the anger of the Cetachi people, divided and scattered across the region, looking for anyone to save them. No, she would not consider this man her equal on the political playing field. He was the end of a long, bad joke.

  Jax was surprised to find High Courtier Jaquobie in her corner during her adamant refusals to accept Cetachi’s requests for statehood. The shrewd and calculating man had served at her father’s side for many years, and she knew it would be foolish to dispose of his services, regardless of how much she clashed with him. Her childhood memories were often dampened with visions of Jaquobie scolding her for breaching etiquette or forcing her to write lines for her childish indiscretions. Having the dark, amber-eyed man on her side mad
e Jax question more than once if she truly was in the right, but her resolve stayed firm. She would go to Lysandeir and attend this summit, using her power and influence over her peers to make them see reason. From what she had gathered through various reports, her grandfather, Duke Mensina, would be in attendance, as well as her future father-in-law, Duke Pettraud. Both duchies were the strongest allies Saphire had, and Jax knew both men personally did not want to see an elected man ruling a nation. In the case of her grandfather, Jax often wondered if his motivations stemmed more from selfishness, than what was best for his people, but regardless, it made her happy to have him on her side. A few other duchies were sending High Courtiers in their stead, for many of the southern nations did not have direct conflict with Cetachi and thus were uninterested in this resolution.

  The Saphire delegation would be small, but Jax had confidence in her companions. Besides Jaquobie, Lord Pettraud would be by her side. While of course she was bringing him because of his calming and thoughtful presence, she also planned to use her beloved Perry as leverage if Duke Pettraud became unmanageable. As much as she hated the prospect of using Perry as a bargaining tool, he understood this was part of his role as future Prince Consort. Her faithful Captain of the Ducal Guard, George Solomon, would be accompanying the group as well, along with a small squadron of men as protection. Her loyal lady’s maid, Uma, and Perry’s valet, Hendrie, would round out the delegation party.

  Uneasy at the prospect of leaving Saphire’s throne unmanned for a fortnight or so, Jax toyed with the idea of having Jaquobie stay and watch over the kingdom in her stead, but his arguments were too vital for her to leave him behind. Despite his unpleasant demeanor, he was a skilled orator and she would need his words backing her when she spoke at the summit. Even with Pettraud and Mensina’s support, she would have her work cut out for her in attempting to align the rest of the duchies with her viewpoint.

  A sorrowful chirping echoed overhead, causing Jax’s attention to be diverted by the haunting melody of a white crown lark. The mournful cry was another reminder that the winter months were coming, sending unnecessary chills down her spine. The bird’s song ignited a symphony of other peeps and chirps around her as she walked deeper into the gardens. The fluttering activity pleasantly surprised her, especially so early in the day. One creature’s sound in the wind made her pause, unsure if she had heard it correctly. Attuned to the many indigenous species in her region, Jax knew the caw of a carrion hawk. “Why in the Virtues would one be near the palace?” she asked the walls of the stoic garden.

  Hiking up her skirts so she could move more adeptly, Jax hastened toward the cackles that came from a small, private clearing off the southern edge of the garden. Pulling open the ivy-wreathed gate with a creak, Jax poked her head into the confined space. In the center of the alcove, a lone man sat with his back to her on a stone bench. Noticing his guardsmen uniform, Jax opened to her mouth to question why one of the Ducal Guard was taking a break in here. Her words caught in her throat as the black shadow of a hawk swooped past the man’s body, screeching at Jax to back away.

  Flustered by the man’s obliviousness and the bird’s demeanor, Jax reached for a branch, snapping it off a nearby pear tree. “Shoo! Shoo!” Jax batted the carrion hawk away with the leaf-bare branch, stepping closer to the hunched figure. He hadn’t moved a muscle. “Sir, might I ask why you are in my grandfather’s memorial sanctum?” Jax didn’t bother to conceal her annoyance at the impertinence of the guard. This alcove was reserved for those in the ducal line for moments of reflection, not for the help to use during their shift change.

  He still did not answer, nor did he turn around.

  A cold hand of nerves seized Jax’s insides, the branch trembling in her grasp. Her leaden footsteps halted as she moved around to face the guardsman. The sight of his bulging brown eyes shocked a shriek out of her, her hand whipping to her mouth to stifle the yell. She’d had enough run-ins with death to warrant a more dignified reaction to the sight. As she regained control of her breathing, Jax assessed the man’s grotesque figure. The front of his uniform was caked with blood, which no doubt had attracted the carrion hawk. From his chest protruded the hilt of a golden dagger, the engraved amethyst and gold insignia announcing it was the guard’s own weapon. Every member of the Ducal Guard was given one upon their induction. Examining the man’s warped face, Jax found that she did not recognize this particular sentry, indicating that he was of lower rank and likely utilized to fortify the palace in some capacity. What was he doing here in the first place? Looking at the unruffled ground, she could tell he had not been dragged in here by his assailant. By the looks of him, he had been dead for quite a few hours, but considering the chill in the air, she could not be certain until her court physician, Master Vyanti, had performed an autopsy on the corpse.

  Jax was about to run toward the small gate to call out to the guards stationed in the main area of the garden when a fluttering piece of paper pinned to the sleeve of the man’s jacket caught her attention. Leaning closer, her curiosity nearly boiling over, the first thing Jax’s violet eyes noticed was that the note was held in place by a dress pin…an odd accessory for a murderer to have on hand, indeed. Gently pulling the piece of parchment away from the blood-soaked body, Jax unfolded the note and looked at the contents. This time her shriek was harder to conceal. It felt like the earthen floor had opened up and swallowed her whole as she stared at the parchment, her entire body shaking at the implications.

  She faintly heard a chorus of guards on the other side of the ivy wall calling out to her. “Your Grace? Your Grace, are you all right?” It only took a few heartbeats for Captain George Solomon to come crashing through the gate, his sword already drawn.

  “Jax, what in the name of the Virtues happened?” One of her oldest and most trusted friends, George was unable to keep his familiarity with her in check as the rest of his men arrived at the small alcove. His dark brown eyes, indicating his common-born heritage, were a well of concern as he took in the scene, his face falling as his gaze settled on the dead man. “Marquis? What happened to him? He’s supposed to be on guard in the dungeons.” Standing at Jax’s side, he took in her shock, her eyes still dazed with horror. “Are you all right, Jax? Did he attack you?”

  His words finally clicking inside her head, Jax ardently shook her long, honey-colored curls. “No, no. I found him like this.” She motioned to the glittering hilt sticking out of the man’s chest. “You say he’s supposed to be watching the dungeons?”

  George nodded, bending down to examine the body with more thoroughness.

  From behind them, one of the guards cleared his throat, his cheeks red as flame. “Actually, Captain, Marquis asked a few of us yesterday to switch shifts with him. I think Bernard ended up doing it.”

  George frowned at this news. “Isn’t Bernard on dungeon patrol during the night?”

  The guard nodded. “Yes, Marquis specifically asked to switch his day shift for one at night.”

  The knot in Jax’s stomach tightened as she listened. She could see in George’s eyes that he was trying to piece the puzzle together, but she held the last bit of valuable information in the clutches of her hand. “George,” she whispered, forcing the Captain to lean in to hear her, “I found this pinned to his jacket.” She held out the note for his eyes to scan.

  As she expected, confusion laced his expression, not knowing what to make of the threat. “This means something to you, doesn’t it, Your Grace?” He gazed at her with intensity, waiting for her to reply.

  Looking down at the single letter gracing the page, Jax nodded, her eyes tearing up as she took in the sinisterly scrawled red ‘A’. “Yes, I am familiar with this handwriting, George. It is a message from Aranelda.”

  Chapter Two

  “Aranelda?” George choked back a breath. “Are you sure?”

  Jax nodded with grave certainty. “We learned our letters side by side. She always had such a gaudy signature. How this came to be pinned to a dea
d man is the real question.” Holding up the bloody parchment, she looked at the other guards assembled in the alcove. “I want the garden thoroughly searched and the palace locked down. No one enters or leaves without my express permission. Captain Solomon, please escort me down to the dungeons. I want to speak with the villainess herself,” Jax commanded, her tone grim. She had not seen Arnie since the day she discovered her once-faithful lady-in-waiting had been part of a plot to kill her and take her throne…that her best friend was partly responsible for the deaths of her beloved parents.

  “Why don’t I go down and speak with her, Your Grace,” George suggested as his soldiers marched out of the clearing, leaving them alone with Marquis’s frozen body.

  “No, I want to see her for myself.” Jax’s glare silenced any reply George had been forming. Sending a sentry to summon Master Vyanti to collect the fallen man, she stormed out of the garden, the tranquility of the cloudy morning shattered. With George at her side, she entered the dark halls of the palace, descending a path deep into the castle she was less familiar with. She did not make it part of her routine to visit the dungeons, and she was grateful when George took the lead without asking. While she found it somewhat surprising that he had acquiesced to her demands without a fight, she could tell he was shaken by what he had seen in the garden. Marquis, although a lower ranked soldier, was still a member of the Ducal Guard, and the loss of one of George’s men would no doubt affect him more than he would willingly let on.

  “Captain? Is something wrong?” A young man, whom Jax assumed to be Bernard, cast a questioning look at the pair as they arrived at the flickering flame-lit entrance to the dungeons.

  “Did you see Marquis at shift change this morning?” Captain Solomon didn’t bother with pleasantries or answering the bewildered guard’s question.