“Tonight,” I said. “After this is done. After we’re off Valyria. We need to talk about what happened in that maintenance shaft.”
“I know.”
“Because I’m not interested in being someone’s conquest.”
“I know that too.” He stepped back, creating professional distance again. “You’re not a conquest, Carys. You’re a complication I didn’t plan for and can’t seem to avoid.”
“Is that supposed to be flattering?”
“It’s supposed to be honest.” He moved toward the door. “Early evening. Ballroom level. Stay close to the sculpture. When Tarsus moves it to his office, I’ll be ready.”
“And if something goes wrong?”
“Then use the necklace. Get out. Don’t wait for me.” He paused at the threshold. “And Carys? That dress Tarsus ismaking you wear? Ignore everything he said about it. You’re not part of his collection. You never were.”
He left before I could respond.
He’d heard what Tarsus said. Bugs. Of course. Brevan was playing his own game. Who knew how long he’d had bugs planted around Tarsus.
But I couldn’t think about that now.
I stood in my quarters, wearing three pieces of jewelry that were weapons, holding components for a heist that would either free me or destroy me, and trying very hard not to think about the Vinduthi who kept saving my life while claiming he was only interested in his sculpture.
Flinx observed.
“He likes complications.”
“It’s not the same thing.” I checked the time. Four hours until the gala. Four hours until everything changed.
I looked at the silver dress hanging on my door. Tarsus’s display piece. His proof of ownership. His reminder that my value came from what I could do for his reputation.
But when I touched the necklace Brevan had given me, the metal was warm from his fingers.
I had two very different men telling me what I was worth.
And one of them was wrong.
BREVAN
The Astrae Ballroom lived up to its name. Every surface caught light and multiplied it. Walls of sculpted glass rose three stories, refracting the manufactured sunset into geometric patterns that moved across the floor. Servers circulated carrying drinks that cost more than most species earned in a month. The guest list read like a directory of the sector’s wealthiest collectors and most corrupt politicians.
I’d seen a hundred rooms like this. Different planets, same performance.
I gave my cuffs a final tug and stepped through the entrance.
Conversations didn’t stop. That would have been too obvious. But the quality of attention shifted. Species who’d been focused on their own negotiations now tracked my movement. Assessing. Calculating. Deciding whether I represented opportunity or threat.
“Mr. Korven.” A Lyrikan female approached, her posture relaxed but her attention focused. “I heard you made quite an impression at the Aphelion Club. Senator Valerius was very complimentary.”
“The senator is generous.” I smiled, letting charm do what violence couldn’t. “Though I suspect his compliments had more to do with the credits I left at his table than my company.”
She laughed. Genuine amusement. “Honesty. How refreshing. Most Vinduthi I’ve met prefer intimidation.”
“Most Vinduthi you’ve met aren’t trying to do business on Valyria.” I accepted a drink from a passing server. Something amber in crystal. “I find intimidation limits opportunities.”
“Smart philosophy.” She gestured to the room. “Have you met many of tonight’s guests?”
