Chapter 87: Of Politeness and Poisoned Intent
"You are dismissed."
The words settled into the air with a finality that ought to have ended the matter.
"Your Highness," Julian said.
Jacinta turned her attention to him, her expression serene, her smile once more perfectly arranged.
"Yes, Baron Redwick?"
There was nothing in her tone to suggest irritation.
Nothing to suggest that anything at all had gone amiss.
Julian inclined his head.
"If I may speak plainly," he began, his voice measured, "I would seek clarification on a matter of some concern."
Jacinta's smile deepened.
"You may always speak freely, Baron."
"Do you intend," he said, "that the maid's dismissal extends to her position within your service?"
For the briefest moment Jacinta's eyes twitched in obvious irritation.
It was small and gone almost as soon as it appeared.
But Lyria saw it.
And in that instant, something settled into place. She had suspected before, but now it was obvious—Jacinta knew.
