“What now?” Sera asked.

  “I think we need to find the real key.” I said putting the box down on the bed. “The candy key broke at the first attempt at turning. I don’t think that key out in the ballroom is the real one.

  “Maybe the key was just too brittle.” Sera said, “I didn’t want to say anything beforehand, but I am not sure candy is the best material to forge a key. And, anyway, why would my Father be displaying a false key?”

  “Maybe not, but it didn’t feel like it broke because it was too flimsy. I still think it broke because it wasn’t the right key.”

  “And that is a good question about your father. I have a hunch.” A hunch all based on the expression an NPC showed me briefly. But this was a game, and therefore should be solvable by a player. “Why would he be hiding the real key?” I asked as much to myself as to Sera.

  Dekka was now up on the bed rooting through the pillows. I watched her a moment, wondering what it was she thought she was searching for, or if she, like me, was just searching for anything interesting in general.

  Sera just stood there and looked puzzled.

  “For the moment. Let’s assume Lord Ashford is not hiding the real key. Lets assume he doesn’t have the real key.”

  Sera gasped and clutched the fabric of her skirts in her fists.

  I looked up sharply. “What?”

  “I never thought of that, but if that were true…” Sera trailed off a moment to watch the dog. When she had sat down on the edge of the bed it caused the box to move and then becoming worthy of a canine investigation. Dekka came over to snortle the box and her tail to wagging furiously when she found the hidden forbidden candy treat.

  Enthusiastically she licked the lock, her little tongue fitting where the key should be.

  I thought about telling her to stop. But this was solving a problem I hadn't even yet started to worry about.

  “Sir Bergmann, " Sera continued, coming to the same conclusion as me about Dekka and the box, "rose up the ranks quickly despite not being from an important family and being a somewhat unpleasant person. I never thought much of it, as my father is also a somewhat unpleasant person.” She shook her head. “In fact, I don’t remember Bergmann growing up, he must…” Her face went perfectly blank for just a moment. Then almost as if she had been rebooted mid thought she said, “What if there are blackmail materials in there on my father? That would explain how a nobody rose to such eminence so quickly.”

  “That would fit what we are seeing.” I tapped my mouth with a finger. Had that blank look been a clue? Or was it just an NPC changing the direction of their thoughts? “I wondered why the ruse of the key. It seemed odd that his Lordship was more interested in who wanted the key than the murder itself.”

  I had just thought it was a nod to fairytale-type stories. They always seemed to have over-the-top elaborate ruses to catch someone. But maybe he was hoping to flush out the person who might have the actual key, regardless of who the killer was.

  “Is this the real box?” I asked suddenly, an icy chill coming over me.

  Sera frowned down at the box. “If it’s not it looks exactly like it.”

  “We need to get out of here,” I said, grabbing her by the sleeve and pulling her out of the room.

  “If this is the real box it should be being guarded.”

  We slipped out the door. I could hear boots coming down an intersecting corridor. “This way!” I hissed at Sera, practically dragging her to a narrow servant’s passage.

  We waited in silence till the sharp footfalls halted, sounding like the person stopped right by the door to Bermann’s quarters. Even Dekka waited quietly in the shadows with us. She must be getting smarter. I started to walk towards the hall. I planned to just stroll past the guard, ignoring the room and go back to the ball.

  Actually, that was a silly idea. This was a game; I needed to keep treating it as such. I paused in the little hallway. "Wait. Think about it. Your father is displaying a fake key. He's desperate to find the real one. Which means..."

  "He doesn't have it," Sera finished.

  "Exactly. So where would it be?" And more importantly, why didn’t he have it?

  "He could have hidden the real key," Sera said, sounding unsure.

  "Probably not here though,” I said. “I am sure your father has checked every inch of his room. Did he have an office?”

  "His personal study," Sera said immediately. "All the upper staff have private studies or offices in addition to their quarters. The Chamberlain’s was in the east wing. Father had it sealed after the murder, pending investigation."

  "Sealed. With guards?"

  She nodded. "Two of them, last I heard."

  Of course, there were guards. Bermann’s rooms had been sparse. There hadn’t been much in the way of possible hiding places. The man hadn’t even had art or knick-knacks. Would it be worth risking the guards to check a room that had already been searched? This was a game. There had to be a way.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Can we get there without going past the ballroom?"

  "Yes, but..." Sera hesitated. "Elizabeth, if we're caught going through a murdered man's sealed study. This could be considered interfering with an investigation. Or worse."

  I looked at her seriously. "You don't have to come. I can do this alone."

  She straightened her shoulders. "No. If there's something in that box about my father, I need to know. And besides," a small smile played at her lips, "someone needs to keep you from tripping over your own skirts."

  “Fair point,” I muttered. “But if I go down, you’re testifying at my trial that I was a vision of grace and poise the whole way through.”

  She smiled back at me. “Of course.”

  “But,” I said as I started down the hall with confidence. “ You forget, it was your father who invited me in to help with the investigation. So I am going to do just that.”

  Less than four strides later I proceeded to almost trip on the hem of my ridiculous skirts. I loved skirts, but all mine back in the real world ended just above or below my knee. None of this sweeping the ground bullshit. Walking in them required stupidly tiny steps. At least the slipper-like shoes were comfortable. They didn’t have to be fancy, no one saw them.

  The east wing corridor was quieter than the main halls, lit only by occasional sconces and moonlight leaking in through high windows. The air smelled of polish and old paper, like a library that hadn’t had a reader in decades.

  We slowed when we heard the low murmur of voices ahead. Two guards stood at the sealed study’s door, halberds planted like they were posing for a recruitment poster. They looked bored, but bored men with sharp sticks were still men with sharp sticks.

  I leaned close to Sera. “Follow my lead.”

  Her brows knit. “Your lead, haven’t I been following you?”

  I marched right up to the guards. “I am here on the orders of His Lordship to investigate the murder of the Chamberlain.” And then stood there as if I expected them to let me in.

  The men suddenly looked less bored.

  They shifted and shared a glance. They looked from Sera to me.

  “Do you have proof of this?” He asked. Then adding “Miss” to be polite.

  “You dare question your Lord’s appointed investigator?” I blustered. I wish I had that damn elven cloak. I could use the charisma boost.

  They were about to refuse when Sera spoke up. “I vouch for her. My father really has asked this traveller to aid him.”

  “Your Ladyship…” One tried to say.

  “What purpose would I have to lie? One of you can go interrupt Lord Ashford if you think it necessary.” They blanched at that. “It’s not like there is anything in there we could be trying to steal.”

  There was no reaction to that. Either they didn’t know about the real key being missing, or they knew it wasn’t in there.

  Grudgingly, they moved aside. Dekka trotted in ahead of us, giving the guards a dismissive sneeze as she passed them.

  Julian Bergmann’s study was… unsettling. Dust already clung to the surfaces, but everything had the feeling of being paused rather than abandoned, like the man might walk back in at any second to resume his work.

  Well, after he yelled at the maids for doing a piss poor job.

  There were papers stacked in neat piles. An inkpot sat uncapped, quill abandoned mid-note.

  We looked around. I was feeling frustrated. This place was so orderly and organised it was making me angry. I always hated people who could be so tidy.

  I heard Sera give a slight chuckle over by the window. Rushing over I looked over her shoulder. She was holding a very amateurish drawing of a flower.

  “This looks like it was drawn by a child,” I said to her. “Did he have any children in his life?”

  “Not that I know of. I think he drew it. It looks like it is done in fine ink.” She laughed a little. “It seems funny to think of him making such a bad drawing of a peony.”

  Something out of place! “You think that is supposed to be a peony?” I tilted my head. “I would have guessed a rose.”

  “I don’t think so. The blooms are so big and see here.” She pointed at the stem. “No thorns.”

  Ok, so a peony. I was clearly no flower expert. Rodney had only given my a flower once and it had been a single rose. She was right though; it had had thorns.

  “Do you have peonies in the gardens?”

  “Oh yes, they were the late Ladyship’s favourite!”

  “Let’s go!” I said and strode out of the office.

  “Where?” Sera asked, trailing after me.

  I waited till we were out of earshot of the guards. “To the gardens. I want you to show me the peonies.”

  The gardens were stunning in the moonlight. The moons were waning but their reflected light was bright enough that we could see clearly. There were paths that led through the flowers and bushes, and there was even a little stream that snaked back and forth with little bridges arching over it.

  The peonies were at the far end, past the pond that was really just the little stream that had been dammed at the far end. The trickle of water was soothing. I could see why this would be someone’s favourite spot.

  Sera pointed out the peony bushes. There weren’t flowers on them now. I never would have made this connection without her.

  Where could someone hide something? There were no benches or boxes or anything. But what there was were stones of all shapes and colours delineating the garden from the lawn.

  “Check under the stones.”

  It only took flipping over seven stones before we found it. I knew that we were on the right track when my fingers found a damp leather pouch.

  Inside was a key!

  Now we just had to get back to the box without being seen. Because I wanted to see what was in there without Lord Ashford.

  I still had my hunch.

  There was a guard still standing at the door of Bermann’s quarters.

  “We need a distraction.” I murmured as we walked down the hall.

  “What kind of distraction?” she whispered back.

  “The kind where he goes that way”—I pointed vaguely toward the kitchens—“and we slip in.”

  Her mouth opened to reply, but I will never know what she might have suggested. At that moment, Dekka decided to be helpful. She bolted straight at the guard like a fuzzy cannonball. She did a flyball turn off his knees and she zipped off into the shadows.

  “Companion animal,” I whispered fondly. Sera stood bemused, watching the direction Dekka and the guard had gone.

  After they had cleared the corner I quickly darted in and nabbed the box and ran out. “Sera,” I said to get her attention. “We need a spot to open this.”

  “Oh! My quarters are not far.”

  I tried to emulate Sera and grabbed a handful of material of my skirts and tried to lift them out of the way with one hand, the other tucking the box under one arm. We ran for it.

  We made it to Sera’s room, which was massive and very frilly. Just as we were closing the door, Dekka came running in. Panting heavily but looking mightily pleased with herself. Nothing looks as self-satisfied as a terrier that just got the better of someone.

  We stared at the wooden box. It looked out of place sitting on her large bed, making a slight dent in a lace and embroidered coverlet. That must be some soft bed.

  I took the key and slid it into the lock. It fit perfectly and turned easily. A tiny click and we were in. Inside, there were dozens of letters and documents. We flipped through them. Blackmail and intelligence as we had expected.

  “Oh..” Sera said, and her hand started to tremble. I took the letter from her fingers before it fell.

  ‘Oh’ indeed.