He looked back down at his trembling, pathetic wife. She was exactly as he had molded her to be: weak, helpless, and completely dependent on him. There was absolutely no way this frail creature could have outsmarted his elite killers or hidden a body.
His rapidly beating heart finally began to slow. The evidence was gone. The Vanguard Madam was missing, yes, but there was nothing here to tie the assassination attempt to his family.
The Prime Minister reached down, his face instantly shifting back into the mask of a benevolent, deeply concerned husband for the Imperial Guards to see. He gently helped her off the floor, pulling her trembling body into his chest.
"Hush now, my dear," the Prime Minister murmured smoothly, patting her dirty hair. "You are safe. I am here."
Hidden against his chest, where no one could see her face, the Third Wife closed her eyes. Her tears continued to fall, but beneath the weeping, a cold, terrifyingly dark smile ghosted across her lips.
