Prince Lachlan hesitated. Heath could see the other man wavering, but the prince’s rigid sense of duty would undoubtedly make it hard for him to investigate behind his father’s back.
“Come on, Your Highness,” Heath said. “We went through this yesterday in that storage cupboard—do we really need to cover it again? The way I look at it, we’re conspirators now. I’m not asking you to tell me all your secrets, and I’m not promising to tell you all mine. But I think when it comes to this matter, we really do want the same thing. To find out who was behind the attack, and whether they’re any further threat either to my family or the crown.”
The prince considered him for a pregnant moment, then gave a curt nod. “All right,” he said. “I can live with that.” His face relaxed into what was almost a smile. “I always did hope we could work together, you know.”
Heath returned the smile more broadly. “Good. Are we in agreement that the missing uniforms support the idea that someone wanted it to look like the attack was committed by royal guards?”
Prince Lachlan nodded again. “And the fact that they went missing over the course of several weeks suggests that the attack was orchestrated carefully, and well ahead of time.”
“Not an encouraging thought,” Heath said grimly. He frowned. “We know it was planned, though, because of the summons Percival received. He was only on the road alone that day because he was riding to Bryford in response to a missive from the Chief Counselor.”
“Well, Lord Niel roundly denies writing any such letter. My father is of the view Lord Percival made the whole thing up,” the prince said.
Heath stared. “I saw the missive myself.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Prince Lachlan said, shaking his head. “I saw it as well. But there was no date on it. Father believes it was a previous summons that Lord Percival unearthed in support of his allegations.”
“That’s definitely not the case,” Heath said confidently, deciding not to waste time getting offended on his brother’s behalf at the king’s opinion. “I can’t understand why the king would think that.”
“I can,” Prince Lachlan said dryly. “It’s because your brother claims the letter was delivered by a royal courier, when the couriers’ records show clearly that no one was dispatched to Bexley Manor that day.”
Heath groaned. “What are the odds a courier’s uniform has gone missing recently?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” agreed Prince Lachlan.
Heath was silent for a moment as he pondered it all. “Are you aware that my father told Percival not to respond to the summons? He could sense something was wrong with it. You know that he can detect deception. Percival is convinced Father must have been sensing that it was a trap, although without knowing that was what he could sense, of course. But what if it was actually that he could sense the lie in the signature? That it wasn’t really written by Lord Niel?”
Prince Lachlan nodded slowly. “It’s worth considering.”
“So there’s plenty to suggest the attack was staged,” Heath said thoughtfully. “But none of it gives us any clue as to who staged it, and for what purpose.”
For a moment there was silence, neither of them having anything more to add.
“I didn’t realize your father had followed up with the couriers,” Heath said thoughtfully. “Or even with Lord Niel. I had the impression that he was so furious about Percival’s accusation that he refused to entertain any of it. But it sounds like an actual investigation occurred.”
The prince’s voice had regained a little of its stiffness as he replied. “Of course there was an investigation. My father cares about his people, Lord Heath, power-wielders included. And he’s always proved himself a wise king—he understands better than anyone the importance of maintaining order and dealing swiftly with unlawful violence. He wouldn’t just ignore an allegation of attempted murder.”
Heath considered the prince dispassionately. Although Prince Lachlan spoke with sincerity, there was something about him…some underlying truth that Heath could sense, hiding behind false words. It wasn’t just reading body language. It was his power at work, he was sure. He was seeing something others couldn’t, in this case the fact that the prince wasn’t being entirely honest. Was this what it felt like for Heath’s father, when he used his magic? But he could not only sense deception—he could actually break its hold. Heath was sure he couldn’t do that, handy as it would be.
Putting the question of his magic from his mind, Heath sifted through the prince’s words, trying to find the safest way to explore what was hidden behind them.
“Has he always proved himself a wise king?” he challenged delicately. “It seems to me, for example, that he would have been much wiser to tell Percival—and the rest of my family—that he’d investigated the allegation.”
“I believe…” Prince Lachlan sounded uncomfortable. “I believe he thought it might seem to validate the accusations your brother made—accusations which were entirely without foundation.”
“Is that what you think?” Heath asked bluntly. When the prince didn’t reply, he pushed on. “Because I think that by letting us all assume there had been no investigation, he communicated to Percival and the other power-wielders that he doesn’t believe a word they say, and doesn’t care enough about an attempt to murder them to even look into it.”
The prince remained silent, and Heath narrowed his eyes. “You agree with me, don’t you?” he mused. “And I know you’re not going to admit it aloud, but I think you also agree with me that the restrictions on the power-wielders are a disproportionate escalation of the conflict.” He frowned. “Was the king really so offended by the unfortunate incident at the Winter Solstice Festival last year?”
“How could he help being angry?” Prince Lachlan burst out. “He was publicly chastised by dragons for something he wasn’t even aware of! Thanks to the dishonesty of your family, he was reduced to discovering their illicit activities in a public scene, along with the rest of the kingdom!”
“My cousins’ meetings to practice their magic weren’t unlawful at the time,” Heath reminded him mildly. “But of course I understand your father’s feelings. I just wouldn’t have expected him to be so affected by them as to take such drastic action, especially delayed as it was.”
The prince scratched the back of his neck, apparently in no hurry to answer. As the silence stretched out, Heath assumed Prince Lachlan wasn’t going to answer at all. He was therefore doubly surprised when his companion spoke, his voice lowered in spite of the privacy of their setting.
“I was surprised as well.”
The admission was the closest Heath had heard the prince come to questioning his father in any way. He kept his mouth shut, afraid of showing his astonishment and unintentionally shaming the prince back into line. As he’d hoped, with no visible reaction, Prince Lachlan kept speaking.