Faith's procurist goes pale. War's delegation exchanges glances. Coin's entire section has gone still.
"That's—" Daiven's voice cracks. "That's an unfounded accusation—"
"Discord has eyes everywhere, Daiven. Did you really think we wouldn't notice thirty-two shipments vanishing fromthe official logs?" I tilt my head. "Faith's cut is twelve percent, which is insulting, really. They should have held out for fifteen."
"Discord has no proof—"
"I have ledgers. Witness statements. Cargo manifests with Faith's seal where Coin's should be." I smile. It's not a nice smile. "Would you like me to keep going? My people have been watching this operation for months. I was saving it for a rainy day, but I'm bored."
The procurist stands. "This is highly irregular—"
"So is skimming tribute and bribing religious officials, but here we are."
Renan makes a sound beside me. Might be a cough. Might be a laugh. Hard to tell.
"The accusations from Discord are—" Faith starts.
"Documented. The word you're looking for is documented." I lean back in my chair. "I run an intelligence network, not a guessing game. Every secret in this city passes through my hands eventually."
War's delegation is openly grinning now. They hate Faith almost as much as I do. One of their captains has produced dried meat from somewhere and is chewing it like he's watching a street fight. Good. At least someone's enjoying this.
"Perhaps we should adjourn," someone suggests. "Given the... disruption—"
"No." I stand. Slow. The chamber contracts around me, that instinctive flinch that happens when something dangerous moves. "I have a question first."
No one speaks.
"The girl." My voice carries. "The Solyne tribute."
Daiven's face tightens. "What about her?"
"Where is she being held?"
"That's not your concern—"
I move.
My body crossing the distance between us before his sentence finishes, and then my forehead is slamming into his face with a crack that echoes off the marble walls.
Blood sprays. His nose caves. He staggers back and I follow, grabbing his throat with one hand and squeezing until his eyes bulge.
"Not my concern?" I'm laughing. I don't know why I'm laughing. "Not my fucking concern?"
I knee him in the balls. Hard. He tries to double over but I've still got his throat, so he just makes this wet choking sound and his legs give out. I hold him up by his neck like a puppet with cut strings.
"Where is she?"
He can't answer. Can't breathe. His hands claw at my wrist, useless.
I slam him into the podium behind him. Wood splinters. Someone in the chamber screams. I don't know who. Don't care.
"Where. Is. She."
His guards finally move—two of them rushing toward me. I hear the click of Renan's pistol before I see him move.
"Ah-ah." His voice is pleasant. Almost friendly. "Everyone stays exactly where they are."
I glance over. He's got his gun pressed to the temple of the lead guard—a big bastard who was halfway to reaching me. The guard's frozen, eyes rolling toward the barrel he can't see but definitely feels.
