As much as the idea of seeing Mikhail Knight was unappealing, it would be good to see Chalice and Gris. That was what Simon told himself as he made his way through the dusk-lit streets. He could apologize for leaving that muttering old man with them. And if he came in with a bottle of good wine in hand, perhaps they would even be inclined to forgive him.

It had been wrong of him to even force them to look after the man. Chalice had never wanted to be involved with the palace after she left it. She had never spoken at any great length about what had happened or the work she had done there, but it had clearly been tied up with the royal family and his father. Gris had been the one to get her out, with the help of Simon’s father. If the royal family had held grudges for it, they would have done something about it by now. It was not a secret where the two of them lived and everyone in town had known that Simon’s father was close with them. At least Her Majesty was not so unforgiving as to track her down.

Although, if there was any suspicion regarding Mikhail, there would be consequences for harboring him. No. Simon would take the blame for that. And if i t was him, it was unlikely there would be consequences beyond a reprimand. He was too valuable to them.

With the raise Dorian had insisted upon, though, he might be able to leave even sooner than expected. Or, if he stuck to the original timeline, maybe he could bring Chalice and Gris with him. They would argue, of course, claiming that he shouldn’t spend more than he already needed to, but… it would be better if they were with him. 

And then there was Isador.

Would he cry over Simon leaving? He had hated seeing that inside the light’s chamber.

Simon shook the image from his mind. This wasn’t the time. Right now, he needed to focus on Mikhail. There was no feasible way he could ever leave the capital if this light was still present. Until they solved this, until he had some idea of what Mikhail and Aria had been studying, he couldn’t let himself fantasize about things that were entirely irrelevant.

Simon took a breath as he opened the door to the small house on the lane, grateful to find the soft sound of chatter in the other room. At the end of the entry hall sat the same chair as always. Gris’s mother sat there, head hanging, soft snores filling the air. At least she was always the same. Simon moved past quietly, rounding the corner to the dining area.

It was as though he had suddenly entered a conversation about him. Chalice and Gris whipped their heads around, eyes wide. Both of them were silent. Across the table sat Mikhail, quiet and slumped forward, staring down at his hands.

”Sorry for coming unannounced,” Simon said. It felt strange to say— he had never felt as if he was interrupting by entering this place. But the tension in the room was violent.

“Simon. We didn’t expect you to be home so quickly.” Chalice rose, hurrying over to meet him. “Are you alright?”

Simon nodded. Something was off about her. She looked exhausted. Perhaps it had been too much to have her housing Mikhail. Maybe he ought to offer to take him home tonight. The idea of the man being alone in his house all day was not appealing, but if it would make things easier for Chalice, maybe it would be for the best. “Tired, and not much closer to finding a solution to this, but… Isador was easy to be around.” He passed her the wine bottle. “I was actually hoping to speak with Mikhail about it.”

Gris’s face contorted. They brushed the stray hairs out of their eyes, shaking their head. “He isn’t worth speaking with, Simon. He talks in circles.”

Chalice glanced back toward them. “I think he should try.”

Gris stood, meeting Chalice’s eyes with a grimace on their lips. “You’re certain?”

Simon’s brow furrowed. What was this about? What was it that they were trying to hide from him? It was unlike the two of them to act so suspiciously. But he kept his mouth shut, simply moving to stand beside Mikhail.

He was a thin old man, pale and thin skinned. His face was splotched with liver marks. Had he been a heavy drinker when he had been removed from the palace? What had he been studying that would drive him to ruin himself so thoroughly? “Can you tell me about your studies?”

He raised his head in a jerky motion, joints stuttering. The moment his eyes landed on Simon, his breath came in a loud wheeze. “You know. You know, don’t you? He knew.” The man’s voice was low, the words slurring together.

”My apologies, I do not.” Was there any point in trying to discuss this reasonably? “I have interest, though. I would like to know what you studied.”

The old man shook his head, breathing heavily. “He hated it. He didn’t want me to study it. He didn’t want me to know how magic could be.”

How it could be? Simon nodded slowly. He had been going too deep into the origins of magic, hadn’t he? Into how those outside the family could use it. But what had he found? Had it been anything at all? Had that sort of information been what ruined his mind.

”That’s why he had to die.”

The words sent a chill through Simon. He took a step back, blinking.

”Mikhail,” Gris warned.

”He had to! I had to do it! He was going to ruin everything. Your father— the poison worked so slowly. He ruined it. He ruined it. He ruined—“

The words washed over Simon slowly and all at once.

This was a crazy old man. These words should mean nothing. But Simon’s stomach sank nonetheless.

”Everyday I made him tea. I was his friend and he ruined it all. He knew. You know. He died so slowly—“

Simon did not even fully understand that he had raised his hand to strike until Gris’s hand grasped his wrist like a vice.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the old man’s moaning and muffled muttering. “It is your right if you want to hurt him. But think twice before you do something you’ll regret,” they said. Their voice was low and gruff in Simon’s ear.

Simon remained quiet, staring down at the man before him. If there was nothing to what he was saying, wouldn’t Gris contradict it? Wouldn’t they reassure him that there was no truth in the man’s words. “Gris, my father died of illness.” The words came through gritted teeth and an achingly clenched jaw.

”There were signs in the autopsy that it may not have been so simple.”

Simon ripped his hand away from their grip, turning around to face them. He was going to be ill. “You’re telling me this man killed my father. And you knew.”

Chalice’s voice was even. “Look at him, Simon. He has been like this since your father passed. But… the way his mind is clouded is reminiscent of Her Majesty’s work. This is not something any of us should get caught up in.”

Despite her soft tone and the careful way she carried herself, Simon couldn’t look at her for long. “No one was going to tell me.” His hands balled into fists, nails tutting at the meat of his palms. The air in his lungs was cold.

”Simon. I need you to look me in the eye. There is a lot you don’t know, and I apologize for that. But I promised your father I wouldn’t tell you before you and I were both ready. I don’t think you’re in a place where you’re going to want to hear all this right now.”

His hands were shaking. “No. Whatever it is, you need to tell me.” He turned back toward Mikhail. The man sat with his head on the table, mumbling to himself. He was not coherent. Any screaming Simon wanted to do would fall upon deaf ears. But Chalice was before him with information. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to raise his voice to her. “Chalice. Please.”

She nodded. “Come outside.”

Simon didn’t argue. He followed her toward the door. Gris stood behind him, their shadow shielding Simon from the glow of the porch light. As Chalice took her seat, Simon just gripped the railing. If he sat, he would surely fall directly through the chair and dissolve straight through the floor. It felt as if the world was frozen around him and each of his own steps was even slower than that. 

“Your father did not want us to even have the coroner look at him. He was certain he was just ill, but… he always had such distance between court politics and himself. He didn’t think the infighting could affect him because the family liked him.” She shook her head, pulling her legs close to her in her seat. “Grigori was an optimist. He didn’t… He never had to see what the family can do.”

Simon didn’t know what to say to that. They had kept this a secret from him. He could not pretend not to understand— he had been young and in mourning. Of course they wouldn’t say anything. And with him almost ready to leave, why not let him live without this burden? But… “Did you know it was Mikhail?”

”I thought it was more complicated than that. But I suspected he had some involvement.” She bit her lip, glancing toward Gris.

Gris nodded. “You know Her Majesty can muddle a mind. If she had wanted him dead, Mikhail would have been a good excuse. Or it could have just been jealousy and she scrambled his brain due to his studies.” They paused. “We didn’t want to tell you when we weren’t certain.”

Simon furrowed his brow. “Why would she want him dead? We’re valuable to the family.”

”You are valuable to them. He was. But with you being the same age as their children, he meant less. And he wronged them by helping us. It put a target on his back,” Gris murmured.

Simon frowned. “You two had fairly low rank, though. I don’t… I have never fully understood why they would be so upset that he helped you leave.” It was not as if Simon thought any less of them for not holding any important position, but it didn’t make sense. 

“Chalice, you don’t have to—“ Gris started, only for Chalice to wave them off.

”No. He should know. Simon, what do you think my position was?”

He heaved back against the railing, the bar digging into his shoulder blades. The cool night air was grounding. “You were a maid of some sort in Her Majesty’s chambers.”

”The location is right,” she said. “Simon, I was raised to be their plaything. Reginald and Winnie took me to their rooms and had me. I was a toy. I couldn’t live like that.”

Simon stared at his hands.

”They didn’t intend to ever let me go. They let their guard down around me. They spoke freely. I was a liability. Grigori and Gris got me out. Gris paid a price. I would not be shocked if Grigori did, too.”

Simon blinked. “Your arm,” he said quietly. “When you first moved here, you had it.”

Gris nodded. “I was called to fight when my brother died in battle. I lost my arm in the first fight I was in.” They took an unsteady breath. “I do not believe that was an accident.”

”I’m sorry,” Simon said softly. What else was there to say? If they had been through all this, did he have any right to complain that they had kept quiet regarding what happened to his father? Did that anger accomplish anything? He let his eyes fall shut for a moment.

He had been in the room with Their Majesties countless times, even when he was little. When that was still happening. He had not been so blind as to think any monarchs were good people, but the idea that he had made polite conversation and not known any of this made his stomach sink.

”With the timing, it’s hard to say what happened to Grigori. He… He fell ill while Gris was away. Mikhail had been slipping already. Maybe he did it on his own. Maybe he didn’t. I don’t know.” Chalice stood. “This is why I tell you to steer clear of Aria and of Prince Isador. I know you care for them, but—“

Simon shook his head. “Isador is uninvolved in any of this.” It was a stupid thing to say, but Simon was certain it was true. If any of them knew anything, it would be Catherine or Dorian. Salvador was difficult— if Simon was right about him, the man was going to abdicate his rights to the throne and disappear into his fiancée’s home kingdom as. soon as they were wed. He might have been second in line, but he wasn’t in tune with the kingdom. Isador, though, would have no idea about any of this. Simon turned, glancing toward the bright pillar in the sky.

”Right,” Chalice said, letting out a breath. “Stay cautious. Please. We survived losing Grigori. But I would not forgive myself if you got hurt because we did not teach you sooner to be careful.”

Simon shivered. “You aren’t to blame.” If he allowed himself to be pulled into royal affairs just because Isador could be sweet, then he was a fool. Still, the man lingered on his mind. “Is it rude if I ask you something unrelated so that my headache eases some?”

He was grateful that Chalice laughed. “Go ahead. I am sure you could use distraction.”

“Did you ever meet Edward Menk? The painter’s son?”

Her face fell. “Simon, you are going too deep into this for that Prince.”

He shook his head. “That tells me you know the connection, then. I am not asking just for Isador. It also has to do with the light.”

Chalice bit her lip. The light of the column and the low-hung moon illuminated her with a cool white cast. “I know he was a good man. And he was being swept into a similar position as I was. But his father had the status to try to save him from it.” She stared up at the column, its glow reflecting in her eyes. “When she has someone in her claws, though, Winifred doesn’t let them go easily. I don’t know if he made it out of there. He either went into hiding, or she found him and there were consequences.”

Simon swallowed.

”You know something.”

Simon nodded. “We met briefly. But he was a spirit.”

Gris’s hand gripped Chalice’s shoulder, squeezing gently. She placed her own hand atop it. “That is why we are asking you to be careful.”

”I will be,” Simon whispered. “I promise.”