Myriel
“Impossible.”
“I assure you, Master Jaedin, it is not impossible.” She paused, considering her next words carefully, “Now, I know you were the one who broke her, but the evidence is…”
Jaedin raised his right hand, “Let us stop there, Constable.” There was no friendliness in his demeanor now, no amusement in his eyes, or smile behind his words. “First, I do not break people, and I will ask you to refrain from using that term while in my house. Second, I did indeed train Miranda. And I can assure you, on my honor, that such training as I instilled in her remains to strong effect.”
“The facts say otherwise.” She tried to keep her tone flat, but she clearly enjoyed the fact she had thrown Jaedin slightly off step. She reached into the pocket of her black leather overcoat and drew out a folded parchment. Nimble fingers unfolded it quickly, “An eyewitness places Miranda near the kitchen at the time of the incident.”
A single arched eyebrow, “She’s the cook. That’s what cooks do. They work in kitchens.”
“It was four o’clock in the morning.” She made a show of reading the parchment, but Jaedin knew she had these details memorized. This was her fourth year as Constable and there were reasons she had retained the position.
“And?“ Jaedin adjusted the cuffs of his jacket, ensuring they were perfectly straight, “Seeing as both Master Kytrell and your eyewitness were up and about at the same time, that does not appear to be so very unusual.”
The parchment crinkled under Myriel’s fingers with the slow tightening of her grip. “Be that as it may, she had no reason to be in the kitchen at that hour. Master Kytrell was known to have insomnia. Carmeled pears, a favorite of his, were kept ready in the kitchen in case he was couldn’t sleep and wanted a snack.”
“And the eyewitness? Did this person give a reason for being up so early? Does this eyewitness have a name?”
Myriel folded the parchment back up again, “She did and she does. Her name is Serena, and she was gathering firewood for the kitchen’s stoves. Breakfast started early in the Kytrell household and the stoves needed to be hot by six.” The parchment was replaced within her jacket. “Miranda, as the cook, did not start baking until six. She had no reason to be in the kitchen at four.”
Jaedin finished buttoning up his jacket, “Did Miranda give a reason for her presence?”
“No. She refuses to speak to anyone.”
“Anyone?”
“…except…perhaps, you.”
There was silence for several minutes before Jaedin nodded slowly, “I see.” He turned away from Myriel and spoke to Marcus, who had remained close at hand. “Tell Kiera I will be down around eight for a late dinner. I am going to spend some time with Evelyn.” Jaedin took several steps towards the archway leading to the lighthouse side of the manor and then stopped, as if remembering something. He spoke without turning around, “That will be all, Constable. Thank you for delivering the news personally. I will make time early tommorow to speak to Miranda and will let you know if anything pertinent is uncovered. I will leave it to you to arrange the appropriate access for the interview.”
Without waiting for a response, Jaedin finished his trip across the foyer and disappeared through the archway. Myriel stood staring after Jaedin. Her quiet frustration at his abrupt departure left her angry and slightly confused.
Marcus’ gentle touch at her elbow startled her, “Constable? Would you like some hot tea before you leave?”
Her eyes flickered to the boy and she gave a sharp shake of the head. She left the foyer without another word.