Vera let out a measured breath. “I would like to speak to Lady Eirlana alone.”
“Absolutely not,” Allaster replied.
“She is a Kalish citizen—”
“She is the Assistant Librarian, which puts her firmly outside your jurisdiction.” Allaster waved a hand at the Kalish door, and it flew open, revealing an overcast stone courtyard on the other side. “Now, I believe this conversation is at an end. Good day, Ambassador.”
Vera looked to Ambric, who spread his hands in a gesture of apology, before she cast Allaster a final, venomous look. “You will regret this, Librarian,” she said and stepped through the portal, her guards following. Allaster slammed the door after them with a resoundingbang.
“That was childish of you,” Ambric chastised. “How can you be the age you are and still be such a thorn in my side?”
“Years of practice.”
Ambric folded his gnarled hands atop his cane. “All you had to do was hear her out. Pacify her a little. Maybe even let her talk to the girl.”
“So they can collude against me?” Allaster scoffed. “I don’t think so.”
Ambric made an exasperated sound. “You aren’t taking this seriously enough, Allaster. Tensions are mounting in Kalthos. Their new Paratal is rousing the ranks.”
“That’s true,” Kasira cut in, having edged toward the exit. “People burn effigies of you at sermons.”
Allaster waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, I’ve heard the songs. Terrible rhyme schemes, very little wit.” He rounded on Ambric. “And come to think of it, exactly whose side are you on? Because it certainly didn’t look like mine.”
Ambric looked ready to throttle him. “For Saints’ sake, Allaster, I’m trying to prevent a war here. The skirmishes between our border patrols are getting out of control.”
Kasira paused before the doorway, torn between returning to Benlo and what her gut told her was important information. “War? Is it that bad?”
Allaster continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Oh, is that why the Kalish sent you a shipment of vylor weapons in exchange for advocating their interests to me?”
Color flushed Ambric’s cheeks, and Allaster pressed, “You didn’t think I knew, did you?”
Ambric straightened with all the imperiousness a century’s worth of age could hone. “The moment I stop facilitating this conversation is the moment they go from shipping weapons to using them. What I’ve struck is a very delicate balance, but you wouldn’t understand. You never did. Why do you think they’re even attacking Miraval? To pressureyou! But as ever, you’re too wrapped up in your own world to see what’s going on around you.”
“Oh, not this again. Mother and Father were perfectly aware of your accomplishments—”
“Damn you, brother. One day your ego is going to get you killed.” Ambric went to thrust open the Miravi door, but it didn’t budge, and his broad shoulders grew tighter still. Without a word, Allaster reached across him, giving the door a light shove, and Ambric shouldered past into a sun-bathed atrium. Allaster waved it shut after him, bringing in a solid, uncomfortable silence.
He collapsed into a chair pressed against the far wall and dropped his head into his hand. He maintained his elegance even sprawled in his seat, looking less the ageless sorcerer and more like a sullen prince. Which, in a way, Kasira supposed he was, given his brother’s position. The Miravi High Mage was elected from an assortment of retired Library mages, but once chosen, served until death, and was treated much like a king.
A king who seemed very certain his country was on the brink of war. She’d heard of the occasional battle with the Miravi from soldiers in her battalion who had siblings in the royal army. Instigating battles was an extreme move just to pressure Allaster into admitting a few Kalish mages, unless—oh.
Vera was formulating a backup plan. If Kasira failed to take control of the Library by unseating Allaster, Vera wanted a military force on the inside.
If she couldn’t take Amorlin peacefully, the Ambassador would take it by force.
It was just another reminder that Vera was playing a much larger game. Kasira was only a single card; Vera had the full deck.
“Why did Vera want to speak with you?” Allaster peered between two fingers at her with one silver-blue eye.
Kasira stiffened, cursing herself for not taking her opportunity to leave. “I assume to ask me questions about the Library.”
His brows arched, and Kasira let her very real frustration bubble to the surface as she came to stand before him. “Don’t give me that look. She thinks she has power over me because of the deal she made with my family, but they all but gave me up for dead. They abandoned me here, and if she thinks I’m going to be her puppet to protect them, she’s not half as clever as she thinks she is.”
First, she had made Allaster question his assumptions about her, had shown curiosity where he expected outright disgust. Then, she had given him an alternative explanation for all those things he found suspicious: not a soldier sent to spy, but an outcast tossed aside. Now, she showed him something else entirely: a woman hurting, whosefamily had turned her into a pawn in exchange for coin and who had no intention of being used. She had shown him a potential ally.
Allaster’s silence was almost as cutting as his words and far more difficult to read. She fought the urge to squirm beneath his ethereal gaze. The rest of him was distinctly human: the slope of his aquiline nose, the downward tilt of his bow-shaped lips. It was his eyes that betrayed the truth of what he was. Something ancient lived inside them.
When he finally spoke, his voice barely crested a murmur. “In truth, I fear she might actually be twice as clever.”
