Jaziel watched as Shani and Jamila departed the castle, his gaze lingering just long enough to ensure the princess looked proper enough for the day. His eyes lingering on the bracelet for a moment as they got into the carriage. He waved goodbye to them from the doorway and only once the carriage disappeared from view did he turn.
Now… his investigation could begin.
And the first place to start?
The archive
Though it was still early, the room was already alive with movement. Aides shuffled through papers, organizing documents into cabinets as the day slowly came to life. Dust filled the air and some of the particles caught the light, glistening.
He made a mental note that the maids for this room needed a little reprimand for letting it go this much.
Jaziel stepped inside with an easy smile.
“Empress Jamila thought you all deserved a quieter morning,” he said warmly. “Since the princess is visiting town today, you may all begin an hour later.”
People exchanged uncertain glances, but no one questioned him for long. Jaziel stood second only to Jamila herself, and if he said something was true then it was.
Gratitude spread like wildfire. Bows, thanks, and relieved laughter filled the room. Jaziel remained where he stood, his smile never wavering. Only when the last of them had gone did he step forward and quietly close the door.
For a moment, all was quiet. Then the loud click of the lock cut through the silence.
An hour would be more than enough.
Jaziel moved deeper into the archive, fingers trailing lightly across rows of labeled cabinets and aging shelves. Drawers slid open one after another beneath practiced hands. Census records. Trade manifests. Correspondence. Birth registries.
Nothing.
His gaze narrowed slightly as he moved toward the older records lining the back wall.
For the longest time there was nothing of interest.
Then…
Even older files. From when their father had still been alive… and healthy.
At first, everything appeared normal.
But the closer Jaziel moved toward the king’s final days, the more the handwriting changed.
He slowed.
The strokes were different.
Cleaner. More deliberate. Familiar.
“…Nimue,” he murmured.
His expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes hardened. Why would a maid… no, a wet nurse… be recording royal matters in the king’s place? He had aides for that.
He continued searching.
Then he found it.
The document transferring power to Jamila.
His gaze traced the ink.
Yes.
Nimue’s hand.
Of course the original was gone. Destroyed most likely… at least, that was what he would have done.
No, that part didn’t surprise him.
But something else did.
A ledger. Older still. From the time their mother had been pregnant.
Jaziel opened it slowly.
Month after month - large payments… to Nimue. Far beyond the salary of a maid. His brow furrowed. Then - another document. Approved leave. Ten months. His fingers stilled.
A thought struck him, sharp. Immediate. Nimue had no children. No husband. Only a sister, nieces and nephews.
And yet… She had been brought in as a wet nurse.
Because their mother had been too weak to feed them both.
So then - How? How did she become a wet nurse?
The answer formed slowly. Disgust followed close behind.
It seemed Jamila had inherited their father’s taste for lesser things.
Jaziel closed the ledger carefully before returning everything exactly as he had found it.
When he left the archive, no one so much as glanced in his direction.
His next stop was the servant quarters. He knocked once. A faint cough sounded behind the door before it opened to reveal an older woman around Nimue’s age.
She froze.
“Good morning, Mirelle,” Jaziel said warmly.
The woman startled, then quickly bowed.
“My lord—!” Her voice trembled slightly.
Good.
Jaziel continued smiling pleasantly until Mirelle seemed to realize she was blocking the doorway. Flustered, she quickly stepped aside and motioned him in.
He stepped inside at her invitation.
The room was modest, but comfortable. Clean. Bright. Lived in.
Mirelle offered him tea, which he accepted with a grateful nod before taking a seat at the small table.
“I heard you were unwell, so I thought I might check on you,” he said gently.
“How kind of you, Archduke,” she replied, dipping her head again.
Jaziel smiled.
“But of course. It is my responsibility to manage the castle after all.” His smile never faded. “And you’ve served this family faithfully for many years. It’s only right.”
He let the silence stretch just long enough to feel natural.
“You and Nimue especially.”
His eyes narrowed slightly as Mirelle flinched at the sudden mention of Nimue. She refused to meet his gaze afterward.
So she did know something.
Jaziel traced a finger along the rim of his cup.
“You knew her before the palace, didn’t you?”
Mirelle hesitated for a moment, rubbing her thumb nervously against the side of her cup. Her eyes grew distant, as though recalling a specific memory.
“Yes… but that was long ago. She… doesn’t speak to me much anymore.” There was something like sadness in her voice. Jaziel leaned forward slightly, resting a hand briefly over hers in reassurance.
“I see.” His eyes softened sympathetically. It lasted only a moment before he leaned back again, as though the moment had passed.
“I came across something curious,” he continued lightly. “While reviewing the archives.”
Confusion flickered across Mirelle’s features.
“Nimue received… quite a significant sum from my mother. For several months.”
Mirelle shifted uncomfortably, forcing herself still.
“I’m sure Nimue would be a better person to ask about that than little old me,” Mirelle said. A hint of wariness entered her gaze.
He couldn’t have that.
So he changed direction.
“You’re right… I apologize.” For a brief moment, Jaziel looked almost sheepish, like a boy gently scolded for overstepping. “I simply didn’t want to bother her with something too minor.”
He pushed his tea away as though preparing to leave.
“Ah, right… How is your family?”
Her face lit up and some of the tension left her posture. “I’m expecting another grandchild soon. My fourth.”
“Four? My goodness…” Jaziel said, pulling the tea closer, genuine amusement crossing his features. “I can hardly handle my son and niece some days.”
For a brief moment, the exhaustion beneath the joke felt genuine.
“Are you certain you aren’t a god yourself?” he asked with a sly smile.
She laughed softly.
“Although with your work… I imagine you don’t get to see them often.” His expression softened again.
She shook her head.
“No… but it is my honor to serve. I will retire one day.” Her smile was genuine.
Hopeful.
Jaziel's eyes widened as if he came to some miraculous conclusion. He reached into his coat and placed a folded paper on the table between them. The number written on it was… substantial.
To her, life-changing.
To him, nothing.
“I see no reason to wait,” he said simply. Warmth softened his smile, one he had seen Jamila use hundreds of times.
Mirelle stared.
“I… I couldn’t-”
“I insist.” His tone was still warm. Still kind. That was what made it impossible to refuse. Her hands trembled slightly as she accepted. Gratitude flooded her expression, as tears streamed down her pale cheeks.
Jaziel stood.
“Well, I should not keep any longer… the sick need rest after all.”
He began to walk toward the door, not looking back at the older woman. His hand settled on the door handle.
“My lord…” He paused. Mirelle looked up at him, something earnest in her eyes.
“At the time… Nimue was one of your father’s favorites.” The words landed. Heavy. Jaziel’s stomach turned, but his expression did not shift.
“I see,” he said calmly.
“And the payments?” He asked with feigned confusion, though he already suspected the answer, he needed to hear it spoken aloud.
Mirelle hesitated for a moment, then…
“She was pregnant.” A pause.
“The child did not survive.”
That was enough. Jaziel turned back towards Mirelle and took her hands gently.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “I can only imagine how difficult that must have been.”
Her smile returned… relieved, grateful.
“Don’t concern yourself with the rest of your duties,” he added. “Your retirement begins today.”
“I hear Veledros is beautiful this time of year.” He said with a wink.
Her eyes lit up. She began mumbling about everything she and her family would need to pack.
Jaziel left her there, already planning, already dreaming of a life beyond the palace.
He stepped into the hallway without a sound.
His expression had changed.
The warmth was gone, replaced by something colder. Sharper. His thoughts moved quickly now, each piece falling neatly into place.
Nimue.
The king.
The forged documents.
Jamila…
His eyes burned.
Nimue had manipulated his naive sister.
She would not get away with that.
Nimue walked the main hall, her schedule eerily empty now that both the empress and the princess were gone. The palace felt quieter without them. Too quiet.
She turned a corner down a deserted hall that she had taken whenever she wanted privacy and a moment to herself. Nimue froze as Jaziel stood beside an open door, as though he had been waiting.
“I think it’s time we had a chat,” he said.
His voice was level… His eyes were not. They looked like a roaring storm at sea beneath the lavender.
He tilted his head slightly toward the room. It was the room she always hid in… Nimue felt the chill before she understood why, something cold slipping down her spine. . . Still, she lifted her chin and stepped forward without hesitation.
After all… If she could handle the king… She could handle this whelp.
She stepped inside. The door shut behind her.