9
Lady Gwen had left with soft cries of fowl and none had wanted to give her the time of day.
Her clothing had been dropped as she ran for the carriage and several guards had whooped and hollered until Jack had roared at them to be polite and show respect to a member of a neighboring royal family.
Gwen still declared her innocence and Jack had worked out Rhys' rouse but also knew which side his bread was buttered as he showed a lofty distain for the insult.
Ianto watched from the window of the loft and Jack turned to go inside, glancing up and seeing a shadow moving away, thinking it was Rhys he moved on.
Ianto stood with his back against the wall of the loft, breathing deeply.
That had been too close.
He had been unable to stop himself from a second peek as he watched Jack's back disappear under the shadow of the doorway.
That evening when the two men joined him for tea they were surprised to find him out of the bed and dressed in the soft clothing of an assassin, unshaven and solemn.
They had hoped for a celebration and found their friend brooding still, but then it was to be expected I suppose.
This was not a good day for anyone.
.
.
.
Jack sat at the dining table staring morosely at the plate of food he didn't want, his gaze falling on the empty chair that once contained the only thing he ever had wanted.
His mind was in turmoil, nothing made sense and it was all crammed in so tight he couldn't examine any singular thought process for the lack of room.
He rose from the table, pushing the plate away and heading for the balcony where he and Ianto had spent many happy times watching the sunset and discussing shit.
As Jack settled in his chair, the thoughts started to unravel into the empty sky and he visualized each one using a technique Ianto had learnt form his own master and had then shown Jack.
By assigning each star a thought, he was able to create space and then each star could show him his thought.
Now he had space to think.
He considered the things that were eating at him, the things he knew Ianto would count on his fingers as he canted his head and challenged him to use that brain of his.
First. His father's death had been sudden.
Then there was Lady Gwen who had already been on her way, invited to stay apparently.
Someone was conspiring to separate Ianto from his side, not only succeeding but with devastating precision.
The wine had been drugged and apparently neither Gwen nor Rhys had known as she has also drunk some. She had declared her innocence and although Rhys was stirring thing Jack knew the poison had been a surprise.
The only common thing in these thoughts was the dark shadow of someone unknown conspiring.
It wasn't Lady Gwen, Rhys or Ianto.
There was still a threat.
Despite Rhys taking one for the team in relieving the prince of an unwanted suitor, the fact remained.
There was another person in this equation.
One here before her, and still here now.
Jack rose and decided the only thing to do would be to demand a sweep of the entire Palace to see if there was a new face.
.
.
.
.
In the loft Ianto was also staring at the stars and making the same decision as his Cariad.
Someone was playing games and they had been here all along.
He started to show his craft by doing what Jack could not as he assigned each star a singular name, mentally counting and accounting for each and every soul in the Palace beside him.
In so doing he was able to look at the strange constellations each friendship, work assignment and floor designation showed, noting any anomalies and finally seeing a thread.
A connection.
Someone who moved through all those areas where tweaks had been made.
One person who could not only poison the wine Rhys sipped, but the mead the good king had supped before mounting his horse for the hunt.
Ianto's blood had run cold as the thought of an assassin on the loose became all too apparent.
He was not fully healed, not yet but his arm was not the least of his worries as he focused on the dark void between the stars.
He knew who it was.
But did Jack?
