He stepped into that role as deftly as always when the agenda for the court that afternoon became one long introduction. InyazHeike was sent off with his governess after the announcement, allowing for Isarevna Sakka to join her brother amidst the ivoryanin.
“I understand from my brother you’ve been quite dedicated to easing the transition from Minister to Isar,” Sakka said after Rodian introduced Arkadi to her. She seemed to be several years older than Arkadi, as tall as he was, and not built dainty how some women were. When he took her hand to bow over it, Arkadi could feel calluses on her palm and fingers from a life of work.
“As any ivoryan would,” Arkadi demurred.
She arched one eyebrow at him, her makeup minimal compared to that of other ladies and some men in the court. Practical, like Rodian, despite the servants having dressed her up for the occasion. “Well, then. Let us meet our people.”
Arkadi let Rodian take the lead in drifting from one conversation circle to the next, accepting the accolades as his due. Arkadi angled himself next to Sakka, murmuring discreetly to her pertinent information of those she was introduced to.
By the time Rodian called an end to court, Arkadi’s throat was dry from so much talking and was in desperate need of some tea. Sakka, it seemed, preferred something stronger.
“Please tell me that is not a daily occurrence,” Sakka said once they were ensconced in a drawing room in the royal wing, servants having already set a samovar to brewing and laid out savory small dishes to pick at.
“Not a daily,” Rodian hedged.
Sakka shot her brother a rather murderous look that made Arkadi hide his laughter as a cough into his fist. The sound drew her attention, which he instantly regretted. “I must say, when Rodya here mentioned his Steward, I was expecting someone different.”
“Who was it you expected, Isarevna?” Arkadi asked.
“Someone older, for one. And do not start with titles in private. Rodian tells me you use his first name, so you may use mine.”
Arkadi inclined his head in acquiescence. “In private.”
She sighed heavily. “Politics give me a headache.”
“That is why I was Minister and you the leviathan no one wished to cross,” Rodian said mildly. “Otherwise, father would have left you the title.”
“Thankfully, a rather torturous possibility that never came to pass.” Sakka leaned back on the winged-back chair, delicate teacup cradled in her hands. She studied Arkadi with a piercing gaze that was difficult not to squirm under. “Rodya tells me you are the court’s secret keeper.”
“I think you mean gossip,” Arkadi said lightly.
“I meant exactly what I said. We are not immune to power plays in the far north, despite what city-dwellers believe. Our chosen way of escaping them does not seem to be an option here in Matriskav.”
“How so?”
“I doubt the palace guard would appreciate Rodya spending time outside the city walls.”
The thought of doing soby choicemade Arkadi freeze in his seat, gaze cutting over to Rodian, who didn’t seem at all as if his sister were joking. “Outside the walls?”
“It was a useful way to stay out of reach when a particularly annoying request came from the capital that wasn’t a vote,” Rodian grumbled.
“No, I do not believe anyone would appreciate you traveling beyond the walls as a way to escape your duties.” Arkadi tried to keep his voice level, but it certainly took effort. The idea of losing Rodian to revenants—no, best not to even think of that.
“Maricol is beautiful, despite her poisoned lands.”
“I’m certain that is true. You can take in such views from the city walls if you must, but you will not be taking in the sights how you used to.”
Arkadi held Rodian’s gaze as fiercely as he dared, only looking away in relief when the older man inclined his head. “I have no plans to put myself at risk.”
“See that you don’t,” Arkadi said. He turned his head, catching sight of the contemplative expression on Sakka’s face as she stared at him. Arkadi decided to change the subject. “I hear you have sent for a herd of reyndeers. I have not seen one before except in paintings.”
“A pity, for they are lovely creatures.” Sakka glanced at her brother. “Perhaps Rodya can take you on an outing with them when they arrive. Within the city walls, of course.”
When Arkadi looked over at Rodian, he was surprised to see the older man seemed a little flushed from the steam coming off his mug of tea.
“Sakosha,” Rodian grumbled.
“Yes, big brother?”
