“I’m interested in Thal’reth artifacts. Tarsus’s collection has some remarkable pieces.”
“Ah. Tarsus. Of course.”
I bet higher this time. Not enough to win, but enough to keep his attention. “You know him well?”
“We’ve been colleagues for thirty years.” The word had implications. Rivalry. Distrust. Barely concealed contempt. “We share certain interests.”
“Like Thal’reth antiquities?”
“Like influence.” He raised my bet. “Tarsus collects art. I collect votes. Both are forms of power.”
I matched his raise. “And which form is more valuable?”
“That depends on who’s asking.” He took the hand with a strong cascade. “Art appreciates slowly. Votes shift overnight. And I try to monitor everything my…interests…do. Professional interest, you understand.”
“But art is permanent. Votes are temporary.”
“True.” He collected his chips. My losses had climbed to nearly two hundred thousand credits. He’d won most of them. “Though permanence matters less if you can’t leverage it.”
The opening I’d been waiting for. “Leverage. That’s an interesting word.”
“How so?”
“It implies vulnerability.” I signaled for another hand. “Something that can be moved if you find the right pressure point.”
“You think Tarsus has vulnerabilities?”
“Everyone does.” I studied my new cards. Terrible hand. I bet high anyway. “The trick is finding them.”
The Lyrikan folded out. Now it was just us. Two players. One conversation that had nothing to do with cards.
“What makes you think I’m interested in Tarsus’s vulnerabilities?” Valerius asked.
“Because you just spent an hour taking my money, and you haven’t asked me to leave.” I folded, losing another ten thousand. “You want to know what I know.”
“And what do you know?”
“That his collection is heavily leveraged. He’s borrowed against it multiple times in the past two years.” A lie. But a believable one. Varrick had built the financial records to support it. “He’s overextended. One bad quarter, and he’ll have to start selling pieces to cover his debts.”
“Interesting claim.”
“Verifiable claim.” I lost another hand. “His creditors are discreet, but not invisible. Someone who knew where to look could find the documentation.”
“And you just happen to know where to look.”
“I’m a collector. Knowing where to look is part of the profession.” I stood. My losses had climbed to nearly three hundred thousand credits. Enough to make Valerius feel dominant without being suspicious. “Thank you for the game, Senator. And the conversation.”
“Leaving already?”
“I have business later tonight.” I nodded respectfully. “But I’d enjoy playing again. Perhaps we could discuss Valyrian politics over a less expensive game.”
“I think we could arrange that.”
I left the table and moved toward the exit. Every step measured. Not retreating. Just withdrawing strategically.
The message would reach Tarsus within the hour. His rival had spent an evening charming and being charmed by the new buyer. They’d discussed art, influence, and Tarsus’s financial vulnerabilities. The conversation had been friendly. Collegial. Potentially profitable.
And Tarsus would not tolerate it.
