Rosamund
The hall had gone quiet.
Every person in the semicircle was fixed on Julian as he stood before the throne, dusty and travel-worn, holding the bundle of letters and the folded map out before him like a man presenting sacred relics.
The King looked at the documents in Julian's hands, then at Julian's face, then at Lord Pemberton, who was still standing at the back of the hall with his seven lords.
"Explain yourself, Lord Whitmore," the King said.
Julian straightened. He set the bundle on the edge of the platform and spoke to the room.
"Your Majesty, my lords, my ladies. As the Crown's Envoy, I was tasked with investigating the circumstances surrounding the disappearances of women formerly betrothed to the Duke of Wellspring." He paused, letting the statement settle. "That investigation has concluded."
He unfolded the map and held it up so the hall could see the hand-drawn coastline, the inlet, the small property marked along the remote southern shore.
