this,” he growled.
“Thank you. Ask the inn staff for food and lodging,” she told the messenger. The man excused himself faster than an arrow, glad to be gone.
Inside, Amalia was very, very worried. But she could not let it show. Part of her cherished this mess. Just moments ago, she had been fumbling for an edge, something she could use against the swine. Now, almost religiously, this had happened.
“I am disappointed, Commander,” she chided in her best voice.
Xavier was hardly looking, his squint was so fast and narrow. “I
will
find who did this. I will make myself a new cloak from their skins.”
“A beautiful threat,” she said. “Meaningless. Worthless. You failed.”
He spun toward her. He opened his mouth, then closed it wisely. “She will be found and brought to you, I swear.”
Amalia nodded emptily, turning away from him. She could hear noises outside the chamber. Must be Mayor Alistair getting grumpy and impatient. Such perfect timing. It would leave no time for the warlord to keep making more excuses.
“You certainly will.”
Rheanna’s escape was a serious matter. Amalia was not quite sure she grasped the implications just yet.
Am I mad
, she thought,
that I can still think clearly instead of sinking to the ground and crying hysterically? A woman who would rival me for the Athesian throne is now free, and all I care for is the look of defeat on Xavier’s face?
Perhaps she was in shock, and her mind was numb to pain and truth. Maybe it would hit her when she went to sleep today, and she would fret until dawn, fighting useless, exhausting, repetitive gray thoughts. Then, she was relieved, honestly relieved, that she would not have to face that fat-ass widow and battle her wit. She was certain the woman was very sharp and highly manipulative. After all, she had managed to convince her half brother to marry her. She had succeeded in controlling him when so many other councillors had seen their tame beast turn on its trainers. It was such a consolation that she would face her as a distant enemy. So much easier.
But Rheanna’s flight meant something else, too. It meant someone within her camp was a traitor. Someone who Xavier trusted. Or maybe it was the guild master himself?
That should worry her even more. That meant she was exposed. Xavier might turn irrational if he began suspecting plots, if he felt he was threatened and cornered. He might decide to harm her, out of spite, when he felt his own moment of glory was over. Having the swine worried and indebted to her was a great thing, but she must not push him. Not yet. She wasstill too weak, still trying to consolidate her power, still trying to figure out whom she could really trust.
Master Hector? Timothy? The two Sirtai? She longed for Gerald, even for Theo, for her mother. People she had once taken for granted and whose wisdom and care she had ignored.
A knock at the door, soft like a kitten kneading wool with its paws.
I’ll handle Rheanna later
.
“Commander, I am disappointed,” she stabbed, her mind swimming. “If you ever wish to become a nobleman, you cannot let this common thuggery be your legacy. If I cannot trust you, then our deal may never bear fruit.” Maybe a tad too dramatic, she thought. She was giddy, elated. Worried just a little.
I’m mad
.
He took her tirade very seriously. Either that or he was a genius beyond reckoning. He was breathing heavily, she noticed. A dangerous, armed man, and she might have overplayed her hand.
Xavier spat on the carpet. “I will handle this,” he almost threatened and barged out.
The chatter died outside. The mayor seemed a little confused, but his head was preoccupied with town matters. He smiled politely as he entered, a flock of adjutants, scribes, and accountants in his wake. Amalia forced herself to smile, but her mind was thrashing, trying to grasp the enormity of this morning. In between writing her memoirs and discussing Ecol’s future, her life had just become
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