“We’re attending a council full of lords,” I said, trying not to remember the sight of him naked. “You could stand to dress nicely, for once.”
“Oh, there’s no need,” Phaedrus waved a hand idly. “I only need you and the psyche to come.”
“Are you sure?”
“More faces will draw more eyes. You will pose as my advisor, and the psyche as a steward. The two of us will focus on sweet-talking the council, while our psyche reads the room and feeds us cues.”
My shoulders tensed. Phaedrus’ voice sounded familiar. Why?
Eleos and Percy joined us, freshly cleaned. Percy appeared to have found a new cloak, its vibrant red color matched the feather in his favorite hat.
“Bringing only Lady Aethra and me makes the most sense,” Eleos said, tying his blue scarf around his neck. “We don’t want to arouse suspicion. Obviously, it won’t be Seraphim we suggest sending across the border.”
“Oh, no.” Seraphim agreed, mouth half-full.
“Who, then?” Percy asked.
I thought for a moment, considering various angles of approach. “The Red Bluffs outpost.” I blurted out. “We share the tale of its tragedy to incite urgency, insist an envoy be sent to Duath Nun to restore relations and beg their aid, should we need more land in the near future.”
“Hm.” Phaedrus stared at me with sage green eyes.Familiarsage-green eyes. “That could work. What do you think, sister?”
“She’s the con woman. I trust her.”
Dipping my head, I tried to shake the sense of nostalgia. The masked nobleman had sage-green eyes, yes, but his hair had beenmuch darker, his voice lighter. Why would Seraphim’s brother have been in Serifos?
Besides, she would know if her brother was a psycheandchthonic, and would have recognized his magic. It was a coincidence, nothing more.
Phaedrus drifted to the center of the table, where a beautiful ivory chessboard sat on a raised display. He pushed the pawns forward, forming a circle. “The lords have been called. When they arrive, we will entreat with them, insisting someone be sent to Duath Nun. Who?”
“Themis?” Seraphim suggested.
“Hm.” Phaedrus raised an eyebrow. “Do you think she’d agree? If I’m to offer her as a sacrificial lamb, I’ll need her to be present.”
Eleos cleared his throat. “Mistress Seraphim is Lady Themis’s twin, no? Could she not stand in for her sister?”
Phaedrus stepped back, holding back a laugh. “We’d need a talented hairdresser for that. And even then. . .” He scanned his sister, grimacing. “It would be a challenging task.”
Shoulders slumping, Seraphim cradled another honey cake in her palm. “I’d hate every moment of it, but I could probably play a decent Themis.”
“Then it’s settled,” Phaedrus said, pushing the queen pawn to the center of the chessboard. “We cannot predict how the lord’s will react, but expect resistance to the idea. And there’s, of course, the matter if they refuse. . .”
“Right.” Percy tilted his head. “What do we do, then?”
“The only ship that can safely cross the Lethe strait is under lock and key, guarded by the border lords.” Phaedrus shrugged. “But every lock can be picked, every vault robbed. It would be taxing and time-consuming, but possible.”
Seth rubbed his forehead. “It would be nigh impossible.”
“Much like stopping the Empty.” Phaedrus agreed. He stood straight, head snapping toward the hall.
The sound of heavy knocking carried from the foyer, followed by a steward rushing to answer.
“Hide,” Phaedrus ordered, straightening his cloak and departing the room.
Everyone scrambled. Seth grabbed my arm and dragged me down the opposite hall into a broom closet, shutting the door behind us. Darkness trapped me in a tiny corner with him standing across from me.
“Ugh,” I whispered. “Are you intent on finding every opportunity to shove me in a tiny hole?”
“Sh.” Seth hissed. “Would you rather hide under the table?’
