A Tyranny of Petticoats

Klio relaxed a bit, taking the seat opposite him, pleased that Stuart didn’t cling so tightly to convention that he would prolong mindless chatter in the presence of his servant rather than proceed directly to the business at hand. She required no chaperone to preserve her reputation and much preferred dealing with men alone and on her terms.

“What do you make of the Fortuna?” Stuart asked. “Does she meet your expectations?”

“I had no expectations, Mr. Stuart,” Klio said.

Stuart swung his leg down from the chair arm so he was sitting rather than sprawling. “Hamilton, please.”

“If you wish.” Klio felt a tremor of unease with Stuart’s casual air. For a man only hours away from playing a game that would determine the nation’s future, he appeared much too comfortable. His arrogance was evidence, but Klio wondered what schemes he’d set in motion to thwart his opponents.

He leaned forward, eyeing her. “Are you always this stiff? We’re alone, you know. Keeping up appearances isn’t required.”

“I’m here on a contract, Mr. — Hamilton,” Klio replied. “This isn’t about appearances.”

“Yes, the contract.” Stuart sipped his drink. “You’ll accompany me whenever I’m outside my cabin. Once the Game begins, I give you leave to situate yourself wherever you deem the most suitable.”

“Thank you for your confidence,” Klio said. “Have the other players arrived?”

“The wolves and goblins are here. The sidhe are expected within the hour. But the necromancers and vampires won’t board until after sunset . . . for obvious reasons.”

Klio nodded. “Are there any particular animosities between the Coven and the other factions that I should know about?”

Stuart’s lips curled in amusement. “What an interesting question.”

Klio bristled, lifting her chin. “Mr. Stuart —”

“Hamilton.”

“Hamilton.” The man was setting Klio’s teeth on edge. “You hired me because you may be in danger. It would be helpful if you identified potential threats.”

“Identifying threats is supposed to be your job, Klio.” Stuart swirled the liquid in his glass, watching it flash amber when it caught the light.

“Very well.” Klio stood up. “If that’s all you have to tell me, I’ll be off to begin doing my job.”

“Sit down, Miss Vesper.” Any hint of mirth in Stuart’s tone had vanished. He finished his drink in one swallow and set the glass aside.

Klio didn’t balk. He clearly expected her to cower at the first sign of his disapproval. Klio cowered for no one. She expected him to erupt into some sort of tyrannical tantrum, but instead he began to laugh. “I don’t frighten you at all, do I?” He shook his head, smiling. “How refreshing.”

He gestured to the sofa. “Please, Miss Vesper, it wasn’t my intent to offend you. I only wish to know a bit more about you. Your reputation is . . . unrivaled. Yet all of my information about you has been secondhand.”

Klio returned to her seat but remained wary. “What would you like to know?”

“A great deal.” Stuart’s brow furrowed. “But I don’t expect you to indulge all of my curiosities.” When Klio didn’t take to his teasing comment, he rested his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers. “Let me show you my good will by answering your question. The Coven and the sidhe have been on good terms for the last three centuries. The goblins are brutes and they hate the Coven, but they despise secret plots and assassination and have only disdain for human wars. They’re a savage lot, but they couldn’t care less about who wins the Game. If the goblins want me, or anyone for that matter, dead, they’d prefer to attack at high noon and stick heads on pikes for all to see. If it wasn’t against the Old Laws, they wouldn’t bother showing up at the Game.”

“I understand.” Of all the factions, Klio viewed the goblins as the least threatening — if only in this particular venue. They wouldn’t break the rules of the Game, and they would spit at the suggestion of loopholes.

“The necromancers are not unlike the goblins,” Stuart continued. “They’ll have bodies enough from the carnage while it’s being waged.”

“So the vampires and the wolves.” Klio had already arrived at that conclusion before she boarded the ship, but she appreciated Stuart’s confirmation.

“The vampires have ties with Southern planters that go back to the first colonial settlements,” Stuart said. “And the wolves haven’t made it known whether they support the Union or the Confederacy. The stubborn beasts refuse to ally or confer with any other faction. Since they made their support of the British known before all the other factions declared for the Americans in the War of Independence, they’ve gotten it into their furry heads that the rest of us colluded against them. If they win the Game this time, we won’t know on whose behalf we’re fighting until they deign to tell us.”

Taking Klio’s passive expression for approval, Stuart said, “And now it’s your turn. Your face is veiled, but I would have you reveal yourself — figuratively speaking, of course. Who are you, Miss Vesper? What tales have you to tell? I imagine them to be extraordinary.”

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