“I understand. Shall we?” Astrid offered me her arm, and we walked into the hall.
I was quiet throughout the meal, nursing a glass of wine while I pondered my conflicting orders. Even Astrid grabbing my leg under the table garnered little response from me. Frustrated, Astrid hissed under her breath, “For Fall’s sake, what’s the matter with you? You’re supposed to be my willing Consort, but you’re acting like a beaten prisoner.”
I whispered into her ear, “My government wants me to use my position as Consort to spy on my allies.”
Astrid nodded. “Smart. It’s what I would do.”
“And you don’t mind?” I asked, astonished.
“I knew you would leak some information back to the Royal Commonwealth when I chose you as Consort, but it was a risk I was willing to take to have you back in my life. Your government is making the same gamble. It only makes sense that Lynwyzc would try to get something from the arrangement.”
I caught sight of Lady d’Lyre chatting amiably with a Despotate lord commander. “They think I can seduce classified information from the honeypots sent after me, like they think you’re doing to me and I to you.”
“And will you?”
I gave Astrid a sharp look. “Would you?”
“Absolutely I would, were I half as attractive as you,” Astrid replied as she took a forkful of white chocolate cake.
I didn’t have a good reply. In my own eyes, I was aggressively average-looking, nowhere near as attractive as Astrid. “I think you’re stunning.”
“That’s sweet of you, but you’re the only one who thinks so.” Her face was calm, but I could hear the bitterness in her voice. “Even your Duke of Lynwyzc, famous rake that he is, barely made an effort before deciding to spend his evenings with Allied diplomats instead.”
“Lynwyzc is upset I cut in line to sleep with you. Hisanger at me has nothing to do with your physical charms,” I explained, opting to forgo the prince’s disparaging remarks regarding her looks and his comparisons of her to an exotic treat.
Astrid snorted. “A likely story.”
“Well, you’re beautiful to me,” I said, feeling helpless.
Astrid smiled wanly. “The question is how to use your beauty to its best advantage?”
I put down my fork. “I’m sorry, do you want me to seduce Allied spies?”
“Not all of them. Only the attractive ones with good style and valuable information,” Astrid said, a naughty glimmer returning to her eye as she finished her slice of cake.
I quickly downed the rest of my drink. “Well, I’m afraid we’re out of luck because I have no idea where to start.”
“Fortunately, I do,” Astrid said. “I’ll pursue a few leads. You start with people you like.”
I grabbed her wrist. “I’m sorry, but no. This is too weird. I can’t have my beloved running off to find me an evening partner to bed.”
“You act like seduction is not a part of diplomacy. Half the pacts in the Empire are sealed with sex,” Astrid explained. “Besides, who said I was going to leave the two of you alone? I want to learn what the other Allies are up to as much as you do.”
My mind whirled, trying to make sense of what Astrid was saying. “The Imperial court expects you to set up a diplomaticménage à trois?”
“Of course. Well, either that, or confine my licentious liaisons to you alone. It’d be scandalous if I took someone to bed without my Consort so soon after declaring you. It’d cast doubt upon the validity of your position. Meanwhile, if you were to bed another woman so soon without my obviousdirection, it’d be taken as treason. I can’t endanger you that way, can I?”
Once again, I had no response. Astrid smiled and kissed me on the nose. “Go, enjoy yourself. See who comes your way. I’ll see if I can find anyone valuable, and we’ll pump them for information tonight.”
Astrid stood, signaling the end of the meal, then walked off to socialize. I called for Ingvar and asked for something to fortify my courage. He brought me a thimble-sized cup full of tak and a tankard of soothing blue-green chaser. I downed both, knowing that despite Astrid’s words, I was entering a dangerous arena, as fraught with danger as any battlefield.
I was beginning to think I preferred the battlefield.
Groups began to drift onto the dance floor as the band switched from dinner music to dancing tunes. I spied Darius walking from the Imperial side of the room and, despite my orders from Prince Aureli and the Emperor, I made for him. He saw me coming and changed directions to intercept me, grabbing a pair of champagne flutes on his way.
“Captain Boylan. Or should I call you Consort now?” he said, handing me a glass and flashing me a winsome smile, but I could see he was uncertain how to treat me.
“Not unless you want me to kick your teeth in and call you Archduke,” I said, one soldier to another. Darius laughed, the tension bleeding away. I stepped in close, intimately close to the casual observer, and whispered, “Never mind about that. Do you know why we’re all here?”
