My comm vibrated in my pocket. Single pulse. Pause. Twice. Kallum’s signal. Message incoming.
I stepped into a private alcove and checked the screen.
Tarsus just contacted his assistant. Emergency meeting scheduled for tonight. You’re being summoned.
I smiled.
The second message arrived five minutes later. Official invitation. Tarsus’s personal seal. The text was polite, but the subtext was clear. He wanted to meet. Now. Tonight. Before Valerius could secure whatever advantage he thought he’d gained.
The senator requests your presence at his private residence. Hour of the Crossing.
I replied with appropriate gratitude and made my way back to my hotel, fighting back a smile.
The best cons made everyone feel like they were winning.
I arrived at Tarsus’s villa precisely on time. The guards recognized me from the reception. They still maintained professional distance, but the hand gestures were less aggressive. Known quantity now. Guest, not threat.
The Nazok attendant stopped at an ornate door. “The senator is expecting you, Mr. Korven.” He paused, then added with careful emphasis, “This is a significant honor. Private audiences are rarely granted.”
“I’m grateful for the senator’s time.”
I entered a private study. Real wood furniture. Real books on the shelves. Real power on display.
Tarsus stood near a window overlooking the ocean. His silver hair caught the exterior lights.
“Mr. Korven.” He turned. “Thank you for accepting my invitation on such short notice.”
“The honor is mine, Senator.”
“Please, sit.” He gestured to a chair. “I understand you spent the evening at the Aphelion Club.”
“I did. Senator Valerius was kind enough to let me join his game.”
“Cascade can be expensive for newcomers.”
“I learned several valuable lessons.” I sat, keeping my posture relaxed. “About probability. About patience. About how people reveal themselves through their betting patterns.”
“And what did Valerius reveal?”
“That he’s a skilled player who enjoys teaching lessons.”
“Nothing else?”
I met his gaze. Direct. Honest. The kind of eye contact that suggested I had nothing to hide. “We discussed art. Politics. The nature of value in Valyrian society. He’s an interesting conversationalist.”
“I’m sure he is.” Tarsus moved to a cabinet and poured two glasses of something amber. He handed me one. “He’s also a political opportunist who builds voting blocs through social connections.”
“I’m not interested in Valyrian politics.”
“Everyone who comes to Valyria becomes interested in its politics eventually.” He sipped his drink. “The art market, the social hierarchy, the economic structure. They’re all connected. You can’t extract one element without understanding the others.”
“Then I’m fortunate to have met collectors who understand the full picture.” I tasted my drink. Smooth. Complex. The kind reserved for senators and their favored guests. “Your collection is remarkable, Senator. I’ve seen pieces in museums that couldn’t match the quality of your private acquisitions.”
“Flattery is cheap, Mr. Korven.”
“Observation is free.” I set my glass down. “I’m not trying to flatter you. I’m trying to understand whether we can do business.”
“What kind of business?”
