âNo. How could a humble pawn understand His Majestyâs great thoughts? I would like to know, too. If His Majesty had not ordered it, I would never have dared do such a thing, I swear itâŚâ
Annette stared at her former coachman. He didnât look as if he was lying, but it didnât mean he was telling the whole truth. There was a sickly color to his face and his eyes were avid for any opportunity. It was hard to believe such a despicable worm shared Raphaelâs blood.
There was something strange about this. She had missed some part of the Kingâs reasoning.
Why had he chosen Ben March in the first place? King Selgratis could have chosen someone much more professional to frame Annette. The sort of people who would have done the job cleanly, and left no clues behind.
Ben March was a foolish choice. The blood relative of a woman with whom he had shared a bed and produced a son, the maternal uncle of that son? An addicted gambler who was unlikely to mend that habit, and so he had been easily snared in a casino.
There must be a reason why it had to be Ben.
It was a miracle that Ben was still alive at all. Even if the King had lost his mind and opted to make such a risky man his creature, he would have had to snip off that loose end sooner or later. He should have had Ben thrown into the sea, or buried him under a poker table.
But despite the risks, His Majesty had left Ben March alive.
Annette frowned. There was more information she wanted to extract from him, but she wasnât sure if this was the moment. She had only learned the principles of interrogation from books, and now she wondered what she should do. But Railin was already one step ahead, eager to claim his portion of fun.
âYou donât seem too concerned about living,â he remarked. âLet me demonstrate the alternative.â
And he swung the hammer as hard as he could. In Railinâs experience, situations like this usually called for a demonstration of how bad things could get. And there was nothing like physical pain to show that the scariest possible alternative was right here.
He aimed precisely for the joint at the top of Benâs shoulders, one of the most painful pressure points in the body. It would not kill.
âAhhh!!!â
Though it didnât appear that he had swung the hammer hard, a crack sounded as it slammed into the joint. It was so painful that Ben jerked, his eyes filling at once with tears. His shoulder joint had separated.
âYou still have another,â Railin said. âDonât make such a fuss.â
This was a lie. If he separated his other shoulder, Ben could die from shock. But Railin lifted the hammer as if to strike again, and Ben burst into tears, begging.
âIâll, Iâll tell you everything! Everything!â he shrieked. âPlease donât, Iâll do anything!â
Railin lowered the weapon, looking disappointed. He hadnât intended to hit him again, but Ben gave up far too quickly. If the gambler had known Railinâs true feelings, he would have been frothing with rage. But fortunately he wasnât a mind reader, and instead he was groaning with pain.
âI visited His Majesty to ask for money! But His Majesty offered me this job before he would pay off my gambling debts, I knew it was wrong, butâŚbut I couldnât, help it!â
Annette laughed, disbelieving. He had traded her future to pay off his debts. But as she folded her arms, suddenly something he had said struck her as strange.
âHow did you have the audacity to ask His Majesty for money? She asked, frowning. âThe King shouldnât have agreed to meet you in the first place.â
It was a sensible question. Even if the thought of dirty money biased her judgment, a commoner could not just go to the King to ask for money. Not unless he had some special connection with that King.
And the question seemed to have hit the nail on the head. Ben suddenly shut his mouth, and it was obvious that even with Railin standing by with a hammer, he didnât want to talk. But Railin had gotten the taste of a little blood, and grinned as he lifted the weapon.
âIt was to pay the debt for my sisterâs life!â Ben cried, despairing. âI was just trying to get a little money as consolation! Even if I am a commoner, I canât forget my sisterâs death, can I?â