There is something you all need to understand,’ Matthew said, regarding them all in turn. Even David and Marjorie were lost for words as they listened to the young man speak. ‘Firstly, it is not poison. It is venom. There is a very distinct difference, even if the outcome is rather the same.
‘First I will tell you what I saw, even if I now know it to be wrong. My grandfather was slowing, he was in pain – day by day he was getting worse. We all saw it, we just wanted to deny it. One day, Grandfather called me to Balmoral. It was last spring. Do you remember, Mother? You tried to come too, but he forbade it. “Just Matthew,” he said.
‘I didn’t think anything of it. I was just happy to spend time with my grandfather. We had a lovely day, in fact. We went hunting. That day, we actually killed the stag that now hangs in the entrance. But when it was all done, the King took me to the wine cellar and opened a secret compartment in the drinks cabinet and showed me what was in there.
‘I didn’t understand. I picked up these jam jars with those comical skulls on them, full of poison, and I just simply didn’t understand. So all I could do was listen to my grandfather.
‘He told me what was wrong with him. A rare heart condition called Ultimum Cor Subsisto. One day, it would claim him for its own, but until then it would creep up on him, slowing him down and impairing him.
‘I asked what that had to do with the poison.
‘ “This is not poison, Matthew,” he said, “so you may pick up your jaw. Not to you, anyway. To me, however, well . . . There is very little about myself that is shrouded in mystery. You will come to know of that in time, when you take up my mantle and see that to be king is sometimes very much a state of mind. The few secrets that I do possess, I clutch hard and fast to my chest, never to let them go. A very select few know what I am about to tell you, as you should never advertise your weaknesses. I am allergic to a very specific type of wasp sting. The Polybia plancalais is not a particularly interesting wasp, but is the one that could end my life if it so put its mind to it. This is the sting ground, the venom extracted, all mixed into this liquid you see here. This is my end, grandson.” The King regarded the jar, rolling the liquid from side to side. “How horrifying to hold such a thing in one’s hand, but how freeing all the same.”
‘ “What is it you ask of me, Grandfather?”
‘The King looked regretful. “When the time comes, grandson, when the pain is too great, when I am spent, I wish to bow out of this great performance on my own terms. I do fear that I am not strong enough, mentally, to do it myself though. Will you help me?”
‘He was the King. He was my grandfather. What was there to do but assent? So I said yes.
‘The King never asked me to poison him. I came to that conclusion myself. But not because of what he wanted. All signs pointed to him announcing the next ruler here, now. I found a specific opportunity. I heard that he wanted a Christmas alone with minimal staff. The blizzard was what really sealed it for me. I would not get another chance like this. I knew I had to do this before I was announced as the next king.
‘I never wanted to be king. I saw what it did to my grandfather. Shackled him. I had never wanted the throne – why would anyone? I want the complete opposite – I want to be free of the shackles of my family name and live my life in peace. I wish to settle somewhere in the city, maybe meet a girl, get a real job, and just live. The Crown is a life sentence to misery. Why would I ever want that? I tried to tell him this. But he would not listen. I loved my grandfather, and if he was dying anyway, why not accelerate the process slightly to my own gain.’
‘Matthew . . . ’ Princess Maud said. ‘Are you saying . . . ’
‘But, and here is the bit you will not believe, I couldn’t do it. I did not poison the King. I had the vial in my hand, I brought it to this room, I held it over the whiskey. But I just couldn’t do it. I loved him so much. I would serve a life in chains to keep him in my life a little longer.
‘But then he died anyway. Somebody else used the poison. And I knew that I was going to be framed. I went back to the pantry a few times throughout the day to check that the secret compartment had not been used. I knew at least one other person knew of its existence.
‘On one of my trips to the pantry, I found my father. I don’t know how, but he’d found the compartment. He was gathering up vials to bring to everyone, to show them. I confronted him, I tried to make him see, but he would not. I did kill someone this day, but not the person I had first set out to. I killed my father – in much the way that Jon discerned. I did not set it up in this grand way to make it look like he drank poison. I . . . I did the deed and I ran. He must have somehow fallen into the wine rack. A convenient accident.’
That didn’t seem right. The Crockley murder scene seemed engineered . . . calculated.
‘So there it is. I killed my father, yes. But I did not kill the King.’
David sprang up. ‘And after all that, we’re supposed to believe you. You disgusting thing. You are the reason my brother is dead. You knew of this venom, you knew of his plot, and you told no one. Why should we believe you when you say you didn’t do it?’
‘Killer!’ Marjorie shrieked. ‘Murderer!’
Matthew let the insults absorb into him and burst into tears. ‘Of course, today I found a record of the King’s illness in his study. Or rather I found the record of his perfect health. He wasn’t ill. It was a test. And I’m not entirely sure if I passed or failed. You know what Ultimum Cor Subsisto translates as? “Ultimate Heart Stop” – he played me for a fool.’
Matthew might as well have been talking to himself for all the good it did.
‘You failed, boy,’ David said. ‘I will see you burn for this.’
Maud jumped up to her son and, against everything, wrapped herself around him. ‘Matthew, I believe you. I believe you. And I forgive you.’
‘What are you doing?’ Emeline said. ‘Get away from him, Maud.’
‘Cold-blooded murderer!’ screamed Marjorie.
‘No!’ Maud screamed. ‘You don’t call him that.’
‘He poisoned my husband!’ Marjorie yelled back.
‘No, he didn’t,’ Maud said.
‘How do you know?’
‘Because,’ Maud shrieked, ‘I did!’