Hal opened the door to Queen Ailith’s room and peeked inside. It was dark, only a few stray shafts of light through the curtains illuminated the Queen. She was laying alone on the side of a wide bed, the side closest to the door. A weak cry accompanied the creak of the door opening.

“Is that you Harold? I'm thirsty.”

Hal closed the door gently behind him and replied to the Queen’s silhouette. “It’s not Harold, unfortunately. I am a friend though.”

“Open the blinds.” She sounded too weak to be surprised, to be more than slightly curious.

Hal walked to the window in the centre of the far wall and opened the blinds, but slowly, as not to disturb the woman. He turned around and looked at her. The first thing that Hal noticed was that she was thin and pale, pitifully so. She had a soft, long featured face that was less than beautiful. Her long grey hair looked brittle and dry as it rested around her shoulders and pillow. A red, angry sore had taken over the corner of her mouth, accentuating her dry lips. She looked him up and down without moving her head.

“What do you want? I can see you’re not a servant with that ridiculous costume you’ve got on. Come on, spit it out.” She seemed to have to drag every word from her rasping throat.

“I am Lord Hal Landoran.” He walked to the side of her bed and stood over her with his hands clasped respectfully in front of him. “I am here on suspicion that you have been poisoned by your husband. I understand this may be hard news to hear but know that you are safe now.”

“Did you say poison? From Harold? Hah.” Ailith chuckled – wheezed really – and gave Hal a confused smile. “Harold takes care of me. Plus, he would never be brave enough to try and kill me, even if I did reveal all of my affairs. I probably shouldn’t be telling a stranger this, but I’m dying, so nothing I say is reliable anyway.”

Hal nodded and pursed his lips sympathetically. “I do not expect you to accept that your illness has been caused by your husband straight away, but-“

“Wait. My illness? Oh, then you're definitely off the mark, friendly clown.” Ailith gave a good, hearty laugh. That of a woman in her fighting prime. “This bastard has been passed down to me through a long line of unfortunate women. My grandmother died of this, and her aunt before her. I could tell you the list but I’m sure you get the point. This is… um. What’s the word? Yes. Congenital. Inherited. Can’t be poison.”

Hal stared at Ailith, horrified. His eyes were wide and filled with despair and fear in equal amounts.

No, it can’t be. But she isn’t delirious, I don’t think. She is being truthful. By the mother, I must fix this mess before everything slips through my fingers.

“Who knows of this, Ailith? Please tell me.”

“I suppose if I’ve already revealed this much I might as well go on.”

She appeared to be… exciting herself by revealing this to a complete stranger. How long had she been isolated? Hal did not want to know.

“This is the big Lyon secret. Some of our women die slow, painful deaths before they turn sixty. Deaths that cannot be prevented so much as death itself can be. Only the women know, really. Of course, the men know a part of the truth, but not the full extent. They just think that some of us are more susceptible to common sicknesses, that’s all. Bad enough to avoid telling suitors, but not so much that they treat us all like we are untouchable little flowers. Too weak to leave our rooms lest we collapse into dust.

“My mother told me when I turned of age. She said that it was our burden as Lyon women to protect our husbands and our future families from the despair of knowing that they might have to watch us die slowly, hopelessly.”

Hal breathed a deep sigh of relief. “So nobody knows.”

Ailith looked at Hal as if seeing him for the first time. She looked as if she had just seen her clown turn into a tall man with rather humourless eyes. “Excuse me? Actually, I would like you to leave now. Maid! Gua-!”

Hal ripped the pillow from beneath her head and slammed it down onto her face, silencing her completely. Her body writhed and her hands clawed at him, but she barely managed to shift herself, let alone Hal. He pressed down savagely, his broad shoulders pushing against his flower embroidered coat.

The door creaked and Hal threw the pillow quickly to the ground. He turned around to see a young maid looking at him. She had big eyes, and a small birthmark on her chin. She had a look of panicked concern on her face. Not immediate suspicion.

“Get a physician! The queen is convulsing. Quickly woman! And tell no one of this except for the physician.”

She gave a quick glance to Ailith, who was still desperately drawing in breath, and left. Hal shoved the pillow back down before she could manage a scream. He held it there for what felt like an age before she stopped moving. He placed the pillow back under her unconscious head and covered her mouth and nose with one hand. He flicked his hair out of his eyes and shook out his left arm, it had become rather sore.

Ailith died before the physician arrived. He was a bald little man holding a leather scrip filled with vials and metal instruments. Behind him, to Hal’s surprise, was Olga and another white-haired Skogur. The Skogur was tall and lean, a model soldier. He closed the door behind him.

“She started to convulse and…” Hal stood back from the body and let the physician take his place.

The little man set his scrip down and fitfully checked the queen with his hands.

Hal looked at Olga, who looked back at him with a clenched jaw and a disgusted frown. Hal nodded and leaned his head toward the doctor with a wide-eyed, expectant expression.

“Her nose appears to be broken, and some of the blood vessels in her face have burst. I would have to say that she has been asphyxiated, most likely… with…” The physician tensed with fear and slowly reached for a scalpel poking out of his scrip.

Olga made a small cutting gesture with her hand and the lean man unsheathed his sword.

The physician turned around, scalpel in hand, and stared menacingly at the three devils standing in front of him. “You bastards, I’ll die fighting.”

The lean man made a half pirouette and slashed at the physician, cutting his throat almost to the spine. He wiped his sword with a white cloth and sheathed it over the corpse.

“Explain.” Olga gestured to the two dead bodies coldly.

“Ailith had an inherited illness. It was not poison, but something her family has had for generations. Thankfully it is a secret only the women of the Lyon family know, so it has died with her. To be clear, I had to kill her. The physician was just because a maid saw me and I had to get her away without suspicion.”

“What did the maid look like?”

“She had a birthmark on her chin. Here.” Hal pointed to the spot that he saw on her earlier.

“Gunnar, take her to a private room. Question if she has told anyone about the queen, then kill her. A suicide. Unrelated.”

Gunnar nodded expressionlessly and left the room.

Olga sighed and sat on the bed. Hal grabbed a chair from the corner of the room and sat in front of her.

“Why did you come in with the physician? Are you not supposed to be gathering men?”

Olga kneaded her temple and wiped at her eyes before responding to Hal. “I came in because the court physician was running to the queen’s quarters like a demon was chasing him. And Frederick never ran for anything, never.” She carefully avoided looking at the man’s blood-soaked corpse. “And I have already gathered the men, with Brack’s help. He led me to his son’s retinue, who happened to be close by. Gunnar is one of them.”

“Good.”

They sat in awkward silence before Hal leaned towards her and whispered. “It is normal to be stressed, to despair. But it is imperative that you contain it until everything is done. These people are vultures, they begin circling at the first sign of weakness.”

Olga laughed humourlessly. “In my opinion, you are the most watchful vulture of all. And anyway, it is never done.”

Hal leaned back and nodded. “You are right.” He adjusted his beautiful blue coat in an attempt to hide a few spots of Frederick’s blood. “Regarding other matters, what is our story here? I am thinking that we caught the physician smothering Ailith, probably on orders of a desperate king attempting to hide his secrets.”

“That sounds like the only possible story.”

Olga stood up and closed Ailith’s eyes with a gentle hand. She then crossed the dead woman’s arms and pulled up the sheet to cover her completely. Hal dragged Frederick’s corpse to the corner of the room. It was not hidden, just as far away from Ailith as possible.

They sat back down, both comfortable with being found and questioned by anyone who entered. Olga stared silently out of the window and took deep, controlled breaths until Gunnar returned. He nodded to Olga and they both left soon after.

Hal stared at the small mound under the sheet for a long time, his mind devoid of conscious thought. Finally, a young girl with a letter knife badge on her uniform walked in and said that it was done, that he was requested elsewhere.

Hal walked out of the room and refused to think too deeply about what he was doing. All he had to do was go on, and everything would be fine.

That night he had a nightmare about dark creatures, burning houses, and the feeling of an infant’s blood against his hands. He had it every night after.