“Who exactly are ‘certain factions?’ House Bernek?” Rakos asks, recalling the count’s new red hair.
“That would have been simpler.” Vana sighs. “By the time I learned of Irenka’s scheme, it was too far along for me to covertly stop it. Plus, your unpopular pacifism made it difficult to find allies for you. My goal was to save your life by removing you from the situation and explaining everything once you were safely away.”
Vana remains silent as Rakos waits for the rest of the explanation—until he realizes it isn’t coming.
Rakos stares. “Is that it?”
“I’m happy to answer any questions,” Vana says.
Rakos stares a little longer, then bursts out, “That is absurd.”
“Hold your tongue,” Daromir growls.
Vana’s eyes never leave Rakos. “It’s fine, Daro.”
Rakos continues. “You expect me to believe that you thought my life was in danger, so you decided an elaborate kidnapping plot was easier than just, I don’t know, giving me a bit of warning?”
“What would you have done if I warned you?” Vana asks.
“Confronted Irenka, of course.” Rakos pauses, reconsidering his answer under Vana’s implacable gaze. He shifts awkwardly in his bindings. “I take your point.”
Vana slumps in his chair, looking more disheveled than Rakos has ever seen him, though not a hair is out of place. “The conspiracy was even further along than I anticipated. By the time my drasgard abducted you, Irenka’s allies had already taken the scalestone.”
“Then why not expose Irenka if you had proof of her transgressions?”
“Her backing is too powerful,” Vana says.
“More powerful than you?”
“Yes.”
Fuck. That list is very, very small. Rakos grimaces. “So, your plan was thrown into disarray. How was it supposed to go?”
“I was sending someone to meet you in Kaiskara. They were to explain everything, then set you up with as much money and transportation as you needed to reach Fellrin or Patha. Wherever you wanted to go.”
Rakos waits a moment for the rest of it—but that’s apparently it. Or at least, all that Vana’s going to reveal. “Thanks. I appreciate the explanation. It’s still completely insane.”
“I understand if you don’t believe me,” Vana says.
Rakos wishes he didn’t believe Vana. Wishes this was truly absurd, instead of exactly what he would expect from Draskoran nobility. “I believe you, because this is far too stupid. If you were lying, you would have a far better story.”
“Should I be flattered by your faith in my deception?”
“Fuck, no. It’s not a compliment.” Rakos relaxes in his chains, as if settling on a throne. He looks Vana dead in the eyes. “How long have you been in House Dire?”
Vana remains silent. It’s Daromir who answers quietly, “Twelve years.”
Rakos sees a flash of pain in Vana’s eyes. He hates to add to it, but some truths are better said out loud. “Any more of this, and you’ll become just like them. You can’t fight the snakes by turning into one. You’ll forget what you’re fighting for.”
“You’re out of line, Wing-Captain,” Vana says sharply.
“I’m always out of line.” Rakos rolls his neck. “Well, your apology sucks, but I accept it. Were you just visiting to tell me all of this, or did you want something else?”
Vana rises to his feet. “I wronged you, and I owe you. I can’t get you out of the country now, but I can get you as far as Ostomar.”
Rakos laughs, amused despite himself. “I’d appreciate you unlocking these cuffs, but as for the rest, no thanks. You people still don’t understand that I’m not leaving town without my dragon. Or my minstrel.”
“Your minstrel?” Vana brushes out his long coat and gestures to Daromir.
