The day had started out fine. Rudy and Gus had ridden out early on their horses, accompanied by their guards, for a morning's ramble. For once Gus had been reluctant to go. "Shouldn't you stay close at hand today, Rudy? Great Auntie said—"

"Aunt Maud can say want she wants, but it doesn't mean it's going to come true," Rudy said.

"But—"

"Come with me, Gus. I've been in grandfather's room for hours on end, listening while he mumbles. He reeks. I cannot stay there another moment. Come."

They were on their way back and had just reached Altstadt's city walls, when Rudy reigned in his horse Nightmare, which was not a mare at all, but a black stallion.

Gus stopped his chestnut horse named Fire. "What is it?"

Five riders were galloping toward them. Gus recognized the rider in the middle, not only by his dark blue uniform, and the white-plumed tricorne on his head, but because there was only one man Gus knew that was so broad-shouldered and sat so tall and straight bestride his horse. Gus glanced at his brother and saw in Rudy's face the same recognition and a tinge of dread. If General Leopold Torne himself had come looking for them, it could only mean one thing. Gus's heart began to hammer.

The riders stopped in front of Rudy. The General swung down from his large horse, doffed his hat and, bowing low, said: "Your Majesty."

Gus watched with his mouth open as all around the guards dismounted their horses and bowed.

"Is he finally dead?" Gus blurted out.

Remaining bent over, the General glanced up at Gus as if he were a buzzing fly. "Yes, King Gregoire is dead. Long live King Rudolf."

And the General bowed lower still, but not before he gave Gus a pointed look.

It took Gus ages to figure out what the General wanted him to do, but finally Gus stumbled off his horse, and bowed as well. "Long live King Rudolf!" he mumbled, as around them the attendants took up the chant.

Rudy said nothing at all; he just kept staring at the ground. And it seemed to Gus that hours went by and they would have all stayed there for hours more, Rudy staring and the rest of them bowing their heads and chanting, if General Torne had not taken charge.

"Your Majesty, you must return to the palace at once," the General said. "There is much to do."

Word of the old king's death had spread and as they rode through the streets of Altstadt on their return to the palace, the people came out to see their new King, and the chant grew in strength. "Long live King Rudolf! Long Live King Rudolf!" As soon as they arrived at the palace, a still silent Rudy was whisked away by the General and attendants.

Gus, left standing by himself, sprinted down the palace hallways in the other direction. He ran until he found himself at his great aunt's door. He slammed through it, nearly knocking Anna the housemaid over.

He found Maud in that same sitting room. She was in a mop cap and stained apron, stirring a pot on the still blazing hearth. As she stirred, plumes of grey smoke that smelled like soiled stockings billowed out of the pot. Maud glanced at Gus where he stood panting by the doorway.

"So, he's dead then?"

He nodded and gulped. "Did you kill him, Auntie? Tell me plainly, please. Did you do it? Was there something in that jelly you fed him?"

"In the jelly? No. Well, nothing that would kill him, a bit of slug squirt, but just enough to ease his pain, to keep him comfortable. He was suffering."

"But you knew when he was going to die."

She shrugged. "Lucky guess."

Lucky guess? While he tried to digest this, Gus walked into the room and slouched into a chair by the fire. "What's in the kettle?"

Maud smiled. "This? My laundry, of course." She took her stick and poking around in the brew, pulled up a shirt-sleeve for Gus to see. She dropped it back into the pot, leaned her stick against the stone hearth and took the seat opposite him.

They sat in silence. A ways off, they could hear bells ring-ing, and the chanting getting louder: "Long live King Rudolf the fourth!" Rudy was the fourth Rudolf? Gus felt shifted out of place. Finally he asked his aunt: "Will you miss Grandpapa?"

"I will miss...I will miss what he was, not what he became in those last years."

"I don't know how to feel. He barely ever talked to me."

She reached across and patted his hand. "How is our new king?" she asked.

"I don't know. He looked stunned. I couldn't say anything to him. He was surrounded by all these people. I have to bow to him all the time now, don't I?"

"Well, that is the custom, yes."

"Maybe I should go. What if they come looking for me?"

"Anna will keep them away for as long as you want," said Maud.

Gus looked into Maud's eyes. Rudy said it was the best way to tell if someone was lying. He stared into his aunt's eyes and asked: "Are you telling me the truth about the slug jelly?"

"You think me a murderer?"

"Well, no, but, they say...they say...they call you a witch."

"I know what they say, Argus. The question is do you believe them?"

~

There was a funeral and a coronation to plan, which kept Willa busy, and there were all sorts of ministers and officials for Rudy to see. Neither of them had time for Gus. So what was he to do? His studies bored him. His tutors put him to sleep, and he wasn't what you'd call an enthusiastic reader. Back then, they didn't even have video games or movies. Oh, the occasional prank on a servant was good for a laugh or two, but if you've seen one fat footman fall flat on his face, you've seen them all.

One afternoon, Gus wandered through the palace halls, thinking about what his aunt had said about keeping each other safe. After a while, Gus looked up and found himself in front of his aunt's rooms again. Anna answered the door at his very first knock and he found his own way to the sitting room, where tea for two had already been laid out on the table. His aunt was at her desk, scribbling on parchment.

"What are you writing?"

"A recipe for soap," she said and tucked it away.

She took her seat by the fire. Gus paced around the room. "What's in that bottle?" He pointed to a thin vial of yellow liquid sitting on a shelf.

"A formula for getting ink stains out of shirtsleeves. Do sit down, Argus."

He sat. She poured the tea.

"Who are they, Auntie?" he said.

"To whom are you referring, Argus?"

"Rudy's enemies, now that he's king."

"I don't know precisely. Enemies very seldom declare themselves as such."

"What do they look like?"

"That again I cannot say—they could look like anyone, I expect."

"Then what do I do?"

"Well, for now, stay as close to your brother as you can."

He nodded his head solemnly. "May I have two squirts today?"

"I thought you didn't like squirt."

He shrugged. "I'm getting used to it."

~

A week later, Gus burst into his great aunt's sitting room and began to complain. "Willa won't even speak to me anymore, except to nag me about my manners, or my stockings not being on straight, or my hair being messy. And Rudy, Rudy has no time for me at all. I can't get near him—not even when I suggested we go in search of flying buttresses to sketch. And all his ministers say I shouldn't come see you. They say I shouldn't listen to you. They keep saying you're bad. And then Wilf told me the reason grandfather didn't poison you as well is that you're the one who supplied him with all the poisons he used to kill everyone else. Is that true? Is that true, Auntie?"

"Who exactly is Wilf?"

"Our friend, Wilfred, Viscount Bragdenburg."

"The Earl of Cantanker's son?"

"Yes." Gus heard a soft, shifting noise in the corner of the room. "What do you have in there, Auntie?" he pointed to the large round basket sitting on the floor. Its lid was fastened shut by two thick leather straps with big buckles.

"My laundry," Maud said and handed him his cup of tea with one and a half squirts.

She always answered like that. Before he had been too preoccupied with himself to think on it, but now Gus realized how odd her answers were. For one thing, royal princesses, no matter how eccentric, did not do their own laundry. And for another thing, she never answered him about being his grandfather's poison-maker. And, and, thirdly, whatever was in that basket it certainly wasn't just laundry, because, and Gus was absolutely certain of this, whatever was in that basket had moved.

***