Unrelated is the activity of the La’tari navy, which has also increased significantly. We make great efforts to devise the reason and will issue another report upon discovery.
I place the missive back in the exact manner I found it, tucking away the information on its pages to ponder another time. The clear voices of the staff in the hall call me to the door, my back pinned to the wall in case anyone should enter the office unannounced.
“Where is the garnish, girl?” a female voice demands, in the hall.
“I—We don’t have it.”
“We do,” the first female snaps. “Youmustfollow the recipes exactly. I won’t tell you again. The mistress is very particular. Come, I will show you where the herbs are kept.”
The second mumbles under her breath and their steps fade away. I crack the door to find a blessedly vacant hall, a set of stairs at one end and a window at the other.
Opposite the room of the gathering sits a large tray filled with bubbling libations. It’s hardly a thought when I pull a small pouch from my cloak, sprinkling every glass with powdered thalis. The herb has a pleasant taste, only a mild hint of almond in its scent. It is exceedingly rare where it grows on the southern border of La’tari. As our military hoards it, I imagine there are few in A’kori who are familiar with it to the point of recognition. The herb is only a mild intoxicant at this dose, though its greater purpose, the one the La’tari harvest it for, is to loosen the lips of those ingesting it.
A confident female voice with a low cadence comes through the walls, “You do yourself a disservice by underestimating the king, Yshka. He likely knows more than you believe.”
A harrumph makes it into the hall followed by the melodic tones of another female’s voice. “He is arrogant if he thinks he has the power to hide himself from us. He’s grown far too comfortable in his seat of power.”
I hear the chatter of the staff coming from the stairs and tuck myself in beside a tall buffet, disappearing into the deep cover of its shadows. The tray of crystal is lifted from the small table, and the voices in the room grow loud when the door barring me from the gathering is swung open wide.
“Let him be comfortable,” the first female says, “Let him think that he has fooled you all. There is power in that deception. As long as he continues to believe he is the most powerful being on the northern continent, his defenses will remain low.”
A male’s voice counters, “I mean no offense lady, but it is only a matter of time before you are discovered here.”
“New tides bring a call to war, old friend,” she replies, “and there are many serving sentences, long overdue their reprieve that will bring allies to our cause. Let my mate and his siblings serve as a distraction while I become better acquainted with your daughter’s gift. The power of suggestion is rare and will serve us well.”
“I am happy to serve in any way I can.” It’s impossible to mistake Ishara’s voice as it glides into the hall.
“Once the king is removed from power, there is nothing to hinder us from clearing this veil of the mortals that remain,” a female says.
“And nothing to keep us from the fea,” the female with the low voice purrs.
The thunder of the large tray tumbling to the floor and a crash of crystal stiffens my spine.
“How dare you,” the same low-voiced female rumbles, “You think that I do not know the purpose of every plant that grows beneath the Braxian stands?”
“Sai—” a male says.
“Be silent!” she yells, “Which of you was bold enough to lace my drink with thalis?”
Hisht.
A whimper escapes the room, and I find my feet moving toward thesafety of the exit.
“You will answer her truthfully,” Ishara commands.
“I would never think to dishonor my mistress in such a way,” one of the servants protests.
“Please,” the other begs, “it wasn’t me.”
“Sai,” the male says, “not a soul in this house would dare.”
The rest of the debate is lost to my ears when I slip into the office, securing the low hood of my cloak to obscure my features before opening the door to the balcony. I climb up on the stone railing and perch in a low squat, positioning myself to jump and tumble onto the roof of the cottage.
My head snaps to the side when the balcony doors of the gathering swing open wide and a tall male with a thick sweep of black hair and bright blue eyes steps outside to survey the grounds. His head whips toward me, his eyes locking on mine, and my stomach pits as a chill blooms from my spine and the air is driven from my lungs. His brow creases and I don’t wait to comprehend the look he gives me before I leap onto the rooftop below, tumbling off the ledge and onto the ground, landing on my feet.
I’m sprinting across the lawn when I hear Ishara’s voice behind me.
“Stop!” she demands, and I breathe through the icy tendrils licking up my spine as I dart into the dark alleys of A’kori.
