Most of her councilors stood frozen in place, as if stunned that the meeting had already adjourned. Her godmother caught her eye, clearly wanting to have a word.
But she was already in motion, sweeping after Olivia, who had started slinking toward the exit the moment she dismissed them. “Olivia! Just a moment.”
Her Spymaster froze.
Seraphina caught up, slipping her arm through Olivia’s before the woman could vanish like smoke, as she was so often wont to do. “I need you to writetwoletters for me,” she murmured. “Though I’d prefer the second remain between us.”
A quick glance over her shoulder found Aldric still watching her—hot, sharp, unyielding. She tore her gaze away. “Just in case things…do not unfold as I hope.”
“Oh?” Olivia shot her a sideways look. “Since you keep using me as a glorified secretary, am I getting double wages, then?”
Seraphina pinched her. “Hush. After you send the letter to Coreto, I need you to write back to that Cesare Alberti fellow.”
“The smug banker from Fortuna?” Olivia snorted. “And say what? ‘Thank you for absolutely nothing?’”
“No.” Seraphina wet her lips, lowering her voice further. Her pulse quickened, excitement beating out a staccato rhythm. “Tell him that if he is so eager to watch my performance in the lists, he is welcome to pay the price of admission for a front-row seat. And then send him a voucher in return.”
One of Olivia’s eyebrows raised.
“Make it out for one parcel of Elmorian land and a noble title to accompany it,” she whispered, barely daring to voice the words aloud, “redeemable immediately…once he decides to stop being a useless bystander and finally choose a side in this war—the winning side.Mine.”
Chapter thirty-two
Aldric
He bit back a snarl of irritation, fighting against the desire to leap from the dais, cross the room to where his kirei was speaking in hushed whispers with her attack rat, and shake some sense into her.
Her plan was almost a good plan. A strong plan. A decisive plan.
Almost.
These half-measures were going to get her killed. Luring the viper back to Goldreach and giving it plenty of opportunity to bite her was going to get her killed. She needed to kill Coreto. She needed to make an example of him before all of Elmoria.
Mercy. Mercy and hesitation had no place on the battlefield.
Court politics were no different.
“Sera,” he called, his voice echoing through the cavernous space.
She whirled to face him, a hint of annoyance flashing in her eyes. Her nostrils flared. But still, she came to him, drifting away from Olivia and drawing closer with all of her usual grace. He studied her face as she approached, committing the worry pinching the corners of her eyes to memory.
The worry she no doubt hoped to hide from them all.
“What is it?” she asked, drawing to a pause before him.
Still standing on the dais as he was, the height difference between them was less pronounced. Suddenly, his kirei didn’t seem so tall. So out of reach. Unbidden, his thoughts flickered back to their wedding day. To the sight of her bending toward him. To the sound of her quietly demanding his kiss.
His gaze flickered downward, momentarily lowering to the golden sun pendant she still wore around her neck. His hand flexed, remembering the way the chain had felt against his fingers as he tugged her closer.
He shoved the memory to the back of his mind.
“Why do you insist on playing these games when it would be so much easier to merely send me to deal with it?” he growled, fighting to keep his voice low. Still, their conversation drew the attention of her councilors, who all quietly lingered on, no doubt waiting their turn to speak with the queen.
Sera’s lips pursed. “Because that ‘it’ is a man, and I want that man alive.”
His irritation flared hotter. Brighter. “That man would not pay you the same courtesy.”
Something passed through his kirei’s storm-gray eyes. Something sad. “I know,” she whispered, “but that changes nothing.” After a pause, she added, “Besides, there is no guarantee your way of doing things would even succeed.”
