The Immortal Prince by Jennifer Fallon Read Free Book Online

overwhelmed by the magnificence of this place when she’d first come here to live after she married Stellan. Now she barely even noticed it.
    â€œLady Desean!” the spymaster exclaimed with a grin, turning from the fireplace to greet her. He’d been staring up at the stern countenance of Stellan’s great-grandfather Rocard, larger than life and dressed in gilded armour in the portrait; a severed head lay at his feet while fires raged behind him, destroying what Arkady assumed was some sort of crude village. The Bloody Duke, they used to call him. He was the one credited with hunting the Scards of Lebec into virtual extinction.
    Arkady hurried across the room and threw her arms around her old friend, hugging him tightly. “Tides, Declan, we haven’t seen you for ages. What are you doing in Lebec?”
    â€œBusiness brings me here. And your husband was kind enough to offer me a roof for the night.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell me he was coming?” she asked Stellan over her shoulder.
    â€œI didn’t know myself, until he arrived,” Stellan informed her, taking a seat in one of the overstuffed leather armchairs facing the desk, which he moved to face the spymaster. Stellan tolerated her friendship with Declan Hawkes, but—for obvious reasons—her closeness with the King’s Spymaster made him more than a little nervous. She’d told Stellan any number of times that she’d not shared his secret with her old friend, but he still worried about it. He’d never said or done anything to indicate he knew about her husband, but still, deep down, Arkady suspected Declan knew the truth.
    Stepping out of his embrace, Arkady looked up at Declan expectantly. Rain pattered softly against the tall windows either side of the fireplace, not nearly as heavy as the earlier downpour that had come with the thunder and lightning.
    â€œWell, what are you doing here? It’s too much to hope, I suppose, that you’re simply here for the pleasure of my company?”
    â€œActually, I’m here for your expertise.”
    Arkady looked at him oddly.
    â€œDo you remember a dreadful murder in the village of Rindova several months ago?” he asked. “A whole family—seven brothers—was slaughtered.”
    She was puzzled by the question. It certainly wasn’t what she’d been expecting. “I remember. The killer was a foreigner, wasn’t he? A Caelish tradesman of some sort? Didn’t they catch him at the scene of the crime, standing over his victims, still covered in their blood?”
    â€œThey did,” the spymaster agreed. “He was a wainwright. His name is Kyle Lakesh. He was tried and condemned for the murders, too.”
    â€œIs there some sort of problem with his trial?” Arkady glanced at Stellan. “Is that the reason you wanted the Caelish Ambassador invited to dinner this evening?”
    â€œThere is something wrong, Arkady,” Declan informed her, “but the ambassador has nothing to do with it. Not yet, at least. You see, they hanged the criminal several days ago.”
    â€œAnd the ambassador is upset because we’ve executed one of his citizens?”
    â€œHe’s got nothing to be upset about,” Stellan remarked, brushing an imaginary fleck of dust from his trousers. “He didn’t die.”
    â€œWho didn’t die?”
    â€œLakesh,” Declan said. “The murderer. They hanged him and he didn’t die.”
    â€œYou mean the hangman botched the job?” she asked, not at all certain she understood what they were telling her.
    â€œNo, as far as I can tell, the hangman did a fine job. The man just refused to die.”
    Arkady looked at her husband, hoping to detect a glimmer of amusement in his eyes, thinking this must be some sort of joke. But Stellan was quite serious. So was Declan Hawkes.
    â€œHow could he refuse to die?” she asked, looking from one man