Her mind raced, the calm, rational thoughts replaced by a jolt of genuine alarm. "What? Why him? Why in all the seven hells would the Crown Prince of Eldoria, the heir to the throne, personally investigate the scandalous death of an old general in a common pleasure house? That's a job for the city watch captain, or someone higher. It makes no sense. A prince does not dirty his hands with such matters. Not unless…"
The realization hit her like a physical blow, cold and sharp.
Not unless he suspects a connection. He thinks this murder is linked to the assassin at the banquet. He believes a single, hostile force is now operating within his city, targeting his regime. He suspects a conspiracy. A cold dread, mingled with an unwelcome thrill, washed over her. He's not just investigating a murder. He's hunting. He is personally hunting me. And I just called him a dolt to his face.
The razor's edge she was walking on had just become infinitely sharper. This complicated everything.
