Chapter 8: The File He Wanted

Theron’s POV

The Marlowes were pretending. Badly.

Breakfast was almost over when I noticed Evelina's plate.

Still full.

She sat at the far end of the table, quiet while the others talked. Cecilia asked Aurelia about her medicine. Alistair discussed the day's schedule.

Evelina reached for the water pitcher.

"I can get it," Aurelia said, taking it from her.

Evelina pulled her hand back.

That was it. No argument. No complaint.

She picked up her glass and drank.

I looked at her plate again.

"Have you eaten?" I asked.

She looked up. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Your plate says otherwise."

Her fingers tightened around the glass.

"I'm not very hungry."

I didn't press her. She looked ready to leave, and I had no interest in making her breakfast another reason to fear speaking.

Alistair stood as soon as Cecilia finished her tea.

"Mother, I'll see you later."

Aurelia helped Cecilia out of her chair. Evelina waited until they had left before standing.

She took her plate.

A servant hurried over. "I'll handle that, miss."

"It's fine."

She carried it toward the kitchen herself.

I watched her go.

Then I turned to Alistair.

"Your sister's prison sentence. Who handled the case?"

His brows drew together. "Why?"

"I asked who handled it."

"Our legal adviser. He submitted everything to the court."

"Name?"

"Why do you need it?"

"Send it to me."

Alistair let out a breath. "Your Majesty, she was convicted. The matter was settled two years ago."

"Then getting the file shouldn't be a problem."

He didn't answer.

I left him there.

I found Evelina in the corridor outside Cecilia's room later that morning.

She was holding a folded cloth. When I approached, she moved aside quickly, leaving more space than necessary.

"Is Cecilia unwell?" I asked.

"No. She was warm, so I brought this."

"You could have asked a servant."

"I know."

She kept her eyes on the cloth.

I was about to leave when a servant came out of the room.

"Miss Aurelia asked me to bring the medicine list. She'll be handling the afternoon dose."

Evelina nodded. "All right."

The servant hurried away.

Evelina stayed where she was. She didn't knock or go inside.

"Are you going in?" I asked.

"Not now."

She walked past me.

I didn't stop her.

Alistair came to my room before lunch.

"I spoke to our adviser," he said. "He'll send the documents."

"Good."

"There's no reason to involve yourself in this."

I looked up from the papers on my desk.

"Then tell me why she was terrified of a locked room."

His jaw tightened.

"She had a difficult time in prison."

"How difficult?"

"I don't know."

"Find out."

He looked away. That answer seemed to bother him more than anything I had said.

I dismissed him with a gesture.

When my aide arrived, I gave him three instructions.

"Get me her case file. Prison reports. Original evidence. Everything."

He waited for the next order.

"Her adoption papers too. I want the original documents, not the family's summary."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And keep this quiet."

He bowed and left.

I returned to the papers on my desk.

The Marlowes had given me their version of Evelina's story before I arrived. They called her jealous, difficult, and guilty.

I had seen her in that archive room.

I had heard her begging.

Those things didn't match.

I wasn't interested in the family's excuses. I wanted the records.

The first file would tell me what happened in court.

The second might tell me who Evelina had been before she became a Marlowe.

I intended to read both.