“I have those in my family who feel the same. My youngest son could eat them with every meal. And my daughter.” He smiles. “You remind me of her, in fact. Not in appearance, but you possess similar charm.”
“You have a daughter?”
“I have four children. Does this surprise you?”
“No,” I say, but it certainly does.
I only know of the brilliant eldest son, since he’s mentioned in the papers a lot—mostly for his battles, but also because he was photographed at the opera with the King of Landore’s most beautiful daughter. But what would Dakar’s girl be like? I picture her as tall, with perfect posture and no smile. Maybe handy with a gun. I wonder if she’s happy. She must be, to have such an impressive father at her side.
Then I remember the news from this spring.
“I’m sorry about your wife,” I say carefully. “It was tragic.”
His smile lessens. “It’s kind of you to offer your sympathies.”
“I hope you can bring her justice.”
“I will.”
It feels like I’ve taken a misstep, touched on something tender. I backpedal and say, “Your daughter’s very fortunate to have such a brave man for her father.”
He tilts his head. “Why do you say that?”
Here we go, treading feelings still fresh and new, but at least they’re honest and certainly he’ll appreciate that. “I loved my father, but he wasn’t a warrior,” I say, sifting through the thoughts I had on the way down the mountain. “That’s why he died.”
“You believe that?”
I bite my lip. This isn’t territory I should go into, yet it’s the truth, because I’m certain the General of Savient would never allow himself to be murdered. It would have happened by now. My father, however, didn’t think about such things. He painted pictures and ignored the whispers, as Mother said, and fate took him. I wish that thought wasn’t in my head, but it is.
People like my mother and the General don’t wait for fate.
They play a step ahead.
I’m silent and the General finally says, “I know nothing about the circumstances of your loss, but I do know that being a warrior isn’t what matters in the end. What matters is playing your cards better than the rest—and with the right side.” He leans closer, chair creaking. “Take that from one who’s spent his life cheating death.”
His face is still hard, all intense certainty—I’m not sure he knows how to look pleasant—but his words only affirm what Mother said to me in secret, and I’m beginning to see why the two of them get along well.
“Do you really intend on giving me an air demonstration, General?”
“I never lie, Princess.”
“Then might I make a request?”
He’s still leaning forward. “Whatever you’d like.”
“I’d love if you brought Lieutenant Erelis and Officer Hajari. Between you and me, I find them both quite charming. They’re good ambassadors for you. You might even give them a promotion.”
His brief smile appears. “Princess, promotions are given for acts of valour, not social graces.”
“I’m sure they’ll manage those too.”
“Indeed.” He appears satisfied. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Heels click on the parlour floor, coming near, and he leans back in his seat.
Mother appears in the doorway. “I apologize, General, for the delay.” She looks between us, expression clouding. “But it’s taken care of now.”
“Nothing to apologize for, Your Majesty,” he says.
And then he looks across at me, like we have an honest understanding.
* * *
The General leaves not long after, and Mother orders me into her bedroom the moment he’s gone. She closes the door firmly. “What did he talk about with you?” she asks. There’s new tension in her face, along her shoulders.
Havis has managed to ruin her day—or perhaps it was me.
“He told me about his daughter. He said I reminded him of her. And he offered me an air demonstration, but I doubt that will happen. I’m sure he’s too busy.”
“Hm.” She studies me a long moment, then strides to her vanity, searching for something. “He seemed in a good mood when he left.”
“And what did you talk about with him, Mother?”
I know it’s bold, but the General has that lingering effect.
She stops searching. “Me?”
The quick reply, almost off guard, makes me even more curious. I want to see what she’ll say. She’s the only person in Etania to entertain a private audience with the General—other than me now, apparently.
A strange look crosses her face, something I can’t read, and she says, “There were things that needed to be discussed away from the official record. Not every state agreement is meant for the papers.”
Stories upon stories that never appear in ink. It seems the world is full of them now.
“Is he pleased with us?” I ask.
“Of course.”
“And Ambassador Havis?”
“Ah, he’s requested a return to Resya on urgent family business.”
“He interrupted your meeting for that?”
Mother turns with a sharp look. “Mind yourself, Aurelia. His mother’s quite ill.” She runs a brush through her hair, tossing it over her shoulder. “It seems the General might have found new supporters in Classit and beyond,” she continues. “He wishes to tour the Heights and has requested that I accompany him. He’ll return in ten days to retrieve the rest of his contingent here.”
“You’re going with him?” I ask, stunned.
“To mediate the discussions. He needs a local ally. These small kingdoms are still cautious about entering negotiations with a man such as him, and I’ve proven it can be done.”
“Then who will oversee things while you’re gone?”
She rarely leaves, and the idea of the palace without her is a bit frightening. She’s the gravity that keeps life in tune.
She allows a smile. “Have you such little faith in your brother?”
My eyes widen.
“Reni can manage ten days on his own. It’s time for him to assume these responsibilities.” She pauses. “Though you will let me know what business he entertains?”
The question, again, is so casual it almost blends to nothing, but it carries too much weight, something like betrayal. Like spying.
“I’ll try,” I say, “but he doesn’t let me anywhere near his business.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t want him to feel mistrusted, yet…”
She doesn’t say it aloud, but she knows what Reni did to Athan, since Uncle was quick to pass it along as an amusing tale—the Prince putting the Safire in their place—and she admonished Reni strongly for it. She wasn’t happy. Now she draws me to her, pushing the windblown hair from my face, and I feel again like a muddy little stick.
“I trust you can be a welcoming host to the Safire while I’m gone?”
“Always,” I say.
“Soon things will be as they should. I’ve done an impressive thing bringing the General to our side, and everyone will see it in time. They’ll applaud me. They will.”
“They will,” I agree.
She has no choice but to be right.
ATHAN
At midnight, a fist sounds on the door.
I know before opening it I’ll find Garrick on the other side. I went looking for him earlier in the evening, suspicious, but Ollie was outside their room, telling me some story about Garrick being sick and how he couldn’t be disturbed, and that’s when I knew what was up.
Ollie’s a faithful wingman on the ground, too.
“Get dressed,” Garrick says, glaring at me when I open the door. “You’re on watch until dawn.”
I stand there, shirtless, exhausted from the mountain and craving sleep, but he’s determined to punish me for my investigation. To remind me to keep my mouth shut. “You’re feeling better now, Captain?”
He ignores it. “The General is headed to Classit tomorrow, for further negotiations, and while he’s gone you’re entirely under my leadership.”
Father’s leaving me on my own? A warning might have been nice, but I suppose this is how it’s going to be from now on. Everything trickling down through goddamn Garrick.
I think that’s what I’ll call him.
“And I require that every report be filed,” goddamn Garrick continues, “every watch observed, every button polished and bootlace tied, do you follow me?”