Aurelian's head turned just a fraction, his jaw tight. He knew exactly which ghost was about to be summoned.
"The story goes like this," Julian continued, his tone mockingly light. "There was a tutor who participated in the Imperial Hunt. Through a stroke of terrible luck, he fell into a pit—pierced by a stake, bitten by a venomous snake. A tragic, lonely end for a scholar, wouldn't you agree?"
The nobles began to murmur, their fans fluttering like the wings of panicked birds. They remembered the rumors. Was that not the fourth master of House Astrea?
"Come to think of it, the Marquis is not at the ball tonight. Was he even invited?"
"Perhaps he lacks the stomach to show his face after what befell his son."
They gossiped even now, the habit of scandal outweighing the silver of the knife at their ruler's throat.
