He lets out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Fine.”
“Anything I need to know?” I ask.
He turns to face me, still cradling his empty drink. “No.”
I don’t believe that for one moment, but I will let it lie for now.
I take a step towards him. “How about needing to know what analltudidis?”
Llywelyn pales. He angles his body away from me and pours himself another drink. This time, his hands shake ever so slightly.
“An alltudid is a person who has lost a duel and has been banished. They must never be spoken of.”
There is definitely more that he is not saying and that is such a pain in the ass. I don’t want to be wasting time and energy prising secrets out of the very person I’m supposed to be helping. But it is what it is, I suppose. Knowledge is power and Llywelyn is not the first person to not want to share. He is just the first person to annoy the hell out of me.
I take a quick breath. “So, in summary, you gave a pet to someone. They killed it. And then they were challenged to a duel, lost and were banished?”
“Yes,” says Llywelyn.
I stare at him. He stares back. He is going to tell me more whether or not he likes it.
“I’m not going to let anyone kill you,” he says.
I blink. That wasn’t what was on my mind but I guess it’s nice of him to realise that I might be concerned.
“Glad to hear it,” I snap. “Now, what’s on your social calendar for today?”
Llywelyn looks surprised by my abrupt change of topic. Then his expression shifts to one of alarm. As if the thought of going out is his personal idea of hell.
“I can’t learn anything by sulking in your rooms,” I remind him sternly.
It’s true, and it is something that definitely needs to be addressed. It is also true that maintaining control of the conversation while throwing the other person off balance by switching topic, is one of the oldest tricks in the book.
His golden eyes narrow. “There is a ball this evening.”
“Perfect!” I say. “In the meantime, you can tell me all about this pet and this duel.”
Llywelyn’s eyes dim and his shoulders droop. But I don’t give a shit. I have a job to do and I’m bloody well going to do it.
I’m enjoying this ball far more than the naked wrestling. Which isn’t exactly surprising. However, in my defence, this really is a better setting for gathering intel. And that’s not me being influenced by my emotions or sense of comfort. The simple fact is, more people means more conversations to eavesdrop on. Nevermind all the things they don’t say. There is so much to learn from a glance, a frown, a trembling hand.
Talking to pets in privacy was a great start. They know a lot about their masters, but this ball is a feast. It’s frustrating that no one is talking to Llywelyn, but it does mean I get to stand quietly at the back and observe in peace.
Llywelyn is clearly not enjoying it. He is fidgeting and breathing far too fast. His gaze is fixed firmly on the floor, as if ignoring everyone cancels out their disregard of him. It is childish and annoying. If he wants to be king, he needs to start acting like one.
He snatches another drink from the tray of a passing server. As if he didn’t nearly drain his drinks cabinet before we left.
Clenching my jaw, I pull my attention away from the sulky prince. I can observe him for hours and hours when I’m stuck alone in his rooms with him. Right now, I need to focus on other people.
My gaze drifts over to Jamie. He is laughing and talking animatedly with Blake. His hands are dancing through the air expressively as he talks. He looks sweet. Innocent. Soft.
But according to Llywelyn, Jamie challenged a fearsome vizier to a duel and won. It seems unbelievable. I’m going to have to verifyLlywelyn’s version of events with another source, even though, as far as my training can tell, Llywelyn was speaking the truth.
I probably should have pushed more for the vizier’s name. Llywelyn’s discomfort and unease at taboo things can go be damned. The only reason I didn’t is because I’m not convinced it’s relevant. Pushing Llywelyn would have been for my own curiosity, nothing more. Pure gossip. I am better than that and that doesn’t mean I’m growing soft.
There will be other ways to find out, if I need to. At least I hope so. My superiors didn’t even know about this duel.
I bite back my frustrated sigh. There are some huge gaps in the agency’s knowledge. Almost shockingly large ones, but that’s why I am here. To fill in the blanks. Make an accurate assessment. There is no point in being irritated about it.
