“I consider it loyalty.”
“Foolishness, loyalty—either one can get you killed.” He shifted a step closer, and it took all her willpower not to step back. Berron Vincetti was more than a little unsettling. Mostly because he wasn’t anything like she’d expected. Perhaps it was the brandy he’d imbibed, but he was certainly a lot less reserved than she’d anticipated. Also, a lot darker in humor.
A mocking smirk rose into place as Berron met her gaze. “Loyalty can be its own form of foolishness. Tell me, are you loyal to my brother?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, uncertain what he was digging for. Because it was clear Berron was looking for a particular answer. “I am.”
His smirk turned into a grin. “Is that so? You seemed awfully close to that Sibeten man only moments ago.”
He’d been watching her. The realization unnerved her. Regardless, she said, “Ivan Baranov is a friend. Nothing more.”
“Doesheknow that?”
“You sound like Carver.”
Berron choked. “Swallow those words, woman. My brother and I are nothing alike.”
A slow smile lifted her lips. “Actually, I think you’re more similar than I first thought.”
Berron rolled his single eye, glancing once more at the empty glass. She could feel the effects of the brandy he’d already consumed, just as she could feel his desire for more. Then he focused back on her, his tone more serious than before as he said, “The sooner you realize Carver and I are the extreme opposites of each other, the better off you’ll be.”
“Why?”
The darkness inside him swelled, coloring his tone and sharpening his features. “Because if you are loyal to my brother, then by default, we are enemies.”
His words were so cold—so sure—she fought a shiver. She refused to look away from his intense gaze, even though her heart beat a little faster than before. She evenmanaged to keep her voice calm as she said, “I don’t want to be your enemy, Berron. Carver doesn’t want that, either.”
Berron simply stared at her. Then his lips parted, and—
“Berron, there you are.”
They both turned to face the newcomer. He was well dressed, though that was mostly in the quality of the attire. Even from here, Amryn could see wrinkles marring his clothes. They also fit a bit loosely on his frame, as if he’d recently lost weight but hadn’t bothered to have his clothes tailored. His light hair showed streaks of silver and there were lines around his eyes and mouth. He looked to be in his fifties, perhaps.
Berron shifted beside her. “Chancellor Janson.”
The chancellor was one Amryn hadn’t met yet, though she’d heard his name; Elowen had mentioned Janson was the chancellor who’d summoned Berron to Zagrev. He was the one investigating thesonnetrade.
Janson clearly knew who she was. Her red hair was such a novelty this far south, it made her easy to identify. “Lady Vincetti, I’m sorry if I’ve interrupted.”
“Not at all,” Berron drawled for her. “My new sister and I were simply getting to know each other.”
Chancellor Janson must have been used to Berron’s sarcasm, because the older man didn’t even blink. He simply took Amryn’s offered hand, brushed a polite kiss against her skin, then straightened. His most prominent emotion was curiosity as he studied her. “It’s an honor to meet you, my lady. We all owe the Chosen a great debt of gratitude.”
She felt her cheeks warm, and she willed her self-conscious blush not to spread further. “Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chancellor Janson.”
“Don’t be flattered,” Berron said to the man, leaning back against the railing as he crossed his arms over his chest. “She seems to think it’s a pleasure to meet everyone.”
Amryn’s flush deepened.
Janson’s sigh was heavy. “You must forgive him, my lady. Berron’s manners are lacking.”
“As is my desire to be here,” Carver’s brother quipped.
Janson eyed the younger man more closely. “You’re drunk.”
“I had to do something to survive this infernal dinner.”
Chancellor Janson’s expression softened. Amryn felt an echo of pain in him that she couldn’t explain, as well as deep sympathy. “Perhaps you should retire for the night,” he murmured to Berron. “Let the drink run its course.”
