“I never doubt you, my dear, but the Blades—”
“The Blades have their orders and will see the plan through.”
Eimarille huffed out a sigh at Terilyn’s interruption, but she didn’t lash out because of it. Terilyn was the only one who could speak to Eimarille in such a way and be assured there would be no punishment for interrupting her queen. Eimarille might rule a country and be well on her way to laying the groundwork to rule Maricol, but in certain moments, Terilyn ruled her.
It had been a heady realization when she was younger, but not once had Terilyn ever thought to use such power for any sort of gain. She was content with her position beside Eimarille as lover and confidant, knowing there was no other person outside a star god who had the ear of the most powerful woman in the world.
“I would rather you not be in Calhames at all for what we have planned, though I was willing to go along with your initial plan. I want you safe,” Eimarille said.
The worry in Eimarille’s voice left Terilyn feeling warm. “I’ll leave in the morning.”
“Good. I miss you. I always sleep terribly when you’re gone.”
Terilyn had received updates every morning and evening when the sun rose and set over New Haven in Daijal of her lover’s status. They still hadn’t been enough to quell her worry over the last few weeks while she’d been deployed to Calhames. She always carried a lingering tension from being parted from her queen on these missions she carried out.
“Are you in your office?” Terilyn asked.
“I’ve too much work to do to be anywhere else at this hour.”
It wasn’t as late there as it was in Calhames, but Terilyn didn’t need to look at her discarded pocket watch to know Eimarille should be finishing up for the day. She would be if Terilyn was there with her. “Go to our room, darling. Get ready for bed and try to get some sleep.”
“There is still so much to do.”
“It will keep.” Her tone brooked no argument, and Terilyn was pleased when Eimarille caved to her request.
“Very well. Come home to me soon, darling.”
“I will,” Terilyn promised.
She ended the call, snapping the televox case closed and setting it aside. Terilyn gathered her things to leave the courtyard, coolly planning out the next few hours and the tasks still needed to be completed.
By morning, the queen’s Blade was gone, heading north as promised.
Two
SOREN
The final gathering of the Conclave of Houses was set to occur at the Imperial palace, in the late afternoon once the heat of midday had faded. The palace servants had gone all out to prepare for it, and the work still wasn’t done. Vanya’s robes for the occasion had been laid out the night before by a body servant in the dressing room. When Soren woke at sunrise from an uneasy sleep and slipped free of Vanya’s arms, he discovered a second set of robes had been laid out with the first.
The clothes had obviously been made for him, the sizing meant for his stature, not Vanya’s. Soren fingered the white robe and trouser set neatly laid out on the chaise, the cuffs and trim embroidered with gold and crimson thread. He could see the constellations twisting through the design, the Lion more prominent than others. The fabric was soft, the tailoring and detail expensive, but it wasn’t his field uniform.
He left the robes alone, pulling on the clean field uniform the palace servants had returned yesterday. He holstered his pistol and strapped on his poison short sword before retreating back to the bedroom where Vanya was still abed.
“You’re not dressed for today,” Vanya said in a low, gravelly voice, clearly awake, if not up.
Soren approached the bed, reaching out to slide his fingers through the tight curls of Vanya’s hair shorn close to his skull. “You know I can’t wear your House’s colors.”
One warm hand slid free of the sheets they’d slept beneath to grab Soren’s wrist. “I wish you would reconsider.”
“I’ll stand with you at this last gathering as a representative of the wardens, but I can’t be that if I’m out of uniform.”
If the Conclave didn’t end in Vanya’s favor, the wardens would need to know how the loyalties of the Houses lined up. Joelle had proven that the Houses could push back against the right of unhindered travel granted to the wardens. It was a dangerous precedent the wardens couldn’t allow to continue. It was why Soren had stayed for the Conclave when he should have already left for his border duties beyond the city well before now.
Vanya said nothing, merely leaned up on an elbow to draw Soren into a kiss that left Soren’s toes curling in his boots.
“Come back to bed,” Vanya murmured when they broke apart.
Soren kissed an apology to the corner of his mouth. “I need to retrieve the border reports from the resupply station. I’ll be back after my errand.”
