“There is.” Ka-Sedial’s face hardened. The change was almost immediate, like an actor switching masks in the middle of a street performance. The grandfatherly look was gone, replaced by severity chiseled out of marble. “I want the Gold Rose.”
Michel couldn’t help but frown. He wasn’t certain how much communication went on between the Dynize ministers and their Households, but it made sense that Ka-Sedial would know about Yaret’s quest for Lindet’s spies. Did he really micromanage this badly, or was there something more sinister going on?
Michel saw Yaret’s body tense slightly, but Yaret continued as if he had not noticed the change in Ka-Sedial’s expression. “We’re making progress on our search,” he said assuringly. “We believe we’re looking for a man named Val je Tura. Unless …” He paused. “If you’re looking for the item we used to open the third floor of the Blackhat archives, I believe the minister of artifacts has it now.”
“I’m not interested in the artifact,” Ka-Sedial said, “nor this supposed je Tura. I want your pet Blackhat. The one who gave you the Rose.”
Michel heard his own sharp intake of breath and fought to suppress the sudden hammering of his heart. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tenik glance at him with concern, while Yaret and Sedial ignored the noise as if he were a piece of furniture. Michel barely trusted himself to breathe, waiting for the moment Yaret pointed in his direction and ordered Sedial’s bodyguards to haul Michel off. Michel did not know much about Sedial, but Taniel’s warnings about the bone-eyes still echoed in his mind. And he still had the bruises from Forgula’s beating.
“Whatever for?” Yaret asked curiously.
“Because he’s a spy,” Ka-Sedial replied, as if that were all the reason in the world.
“Yes, I’m aware he’s a spy. That’s why he’s valuable.”
“He’s still a spy.”
“Ah.” Yaret seemed to consider this as if it were new information. “I think I see where the confusion is. You believe he’s still working for the enemy?”
Ka-Sedial gave the cold smile of someone who knew that Yaret was acting a fool but could not think of a way to politely break the facade. “I believe that is the case, yes. Some of my Household are concerned that you’ve given him too much trust too quickly.”
“Oh? I had no idea that the way I run my Household was under scrutiny.”
“I—”
Yaret continued before Ka-Sedial could interject. “If my Household is under imperial review, I would like to know immediately. If it is not, I would like to know why your underlings are watching me. The amount of trust I put in someone I’ve welcomed into my Household is entirely up to me.” Yaret’s voice continued in a gentle manner, but there was a new bite to his words.
“You’re not under imperial review,” Ka-Sedial reassured him.
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“But I’d like you to consider handing over the Gold Rose for questioning.”
“He gave us entry to the Blackhat library.”
“True. But we have no idea what other secrets his head may hold.”
Michel felt his hackles rise while the two discussed him. He wondered whether Ka-Sedial knew that the man they were discussing was literally in the room. Sedial had given no indication. The thought concerned Michel, and he wondered if Yaret had known this conversation was coming—and if so, why Yaret wished him to stay in the room for it.
Yaret’s genteel facade finally broke. “I will not hand over a member of my Household to be tortured.”
“He’s hardly a member of your Household already,” Ka-Sedial scoffed.
“He is,” Yaret insisted. “He proved his usefulness when he gave us the Millinery library. He is one of dozens of Blackhats that my people have managed to turn over the last month. Not only is he already the most valuable of those, but he has given me no reason to suspect that he’s a double agent. He’s actively working with my people to hunt down his former companions.”
“And you truly trust him?”
“ ‘Truly’? Trust is a sliding scale, Sedial. He has begun the journey of earning my trust in good faith. I will not break that faith.”
Ka-Sedial’s hardened expression took on an air of annoyance. He was clearly a man used to being given what he asked for. For his own part, Michel was shocked that he hadn’t been handed over already. “He need not be tortured,” Sedial said.
“I won’t give him to the bone-eyes, either,” Yaret said.
Michel tried not to panic at the idea. Ka-Sedial said, “You could oversee the questioning. All we have to do is make sure he’s spilled all his secrets. If he has, he can return to your Household. No harm done.”
“You and I have very different definitions of ‘harm,’” Yaret said quietly. “But I think you already knew that.”
Ka-Sedial watched Yaret for several moments. His face was still merely stern, but his eyes spoke of a bottled fury. “Don’t let our past disagreements cloud your judgment, my friend.”
“And don’t let your reliance on your sorcery cloud yours,” Yaret retorted. He spread his arms. “You control the military and the government. If you try to manage even more, you will run yourself into an early grave. None of us wants that, so I suggest you leave the espionage to me.”
Ka-Sedial snorted. “Think on my request,” he said before turning toward the door. He paused halfway through his turn, eyes locking on Michel and Tenik as if noticing their presence for the first time. He gave a slight frown and opened the door. Before he could go, Michel spotted a figure standing down the hallway—a striking young woman wearing Privileged’s gloves. She was obviously waiting for Ka-Sedial, greeting him with a nod as he emerged. For some reason her presence seemed to drive the danger of this situation home to Michel; the realization that he could be destroyed by two different sorceries or any number of mundane ways made everything just a little more terrifying.
The door closed and Michel found himself alone with Yaret and Tenik again. He glanced between the two of them, his throat dry. No one spoke.
After nearly a minute, Michel cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said.
Yaret looked up from his own deep thoughts. “Hmm?”
“Thank you for not turning me over to them. I have no desire to be tortured, or subjected to sorcery.”
“Ah, yes.” Yaret waved off the thanks. “You are a member of my Household, no matter how early or tenuous. If I make a precedent of handing my people over to a rival Household, it will make it clear to everyone that I am no longer fit to be a Minister.”
Michel waited for an ominous follow-up. Something like, Don’t make me regret this decision, or Betray me and I will kill you myself. It never came. Instead, Yaret frowned at the door for a few more moments before saying, “Do you know why I asked you to remain in the room?”
“You wanted to show me that you protect the people who work for you?”
Yaret gave a genuine chuckle. “Nothing so serious, though I do make a point of doing so … No, I did it to annoy Sedial. He’s a prick, Michel, and I don’t really give a shit who knows it.”
A long, awkward silence filled the room. Michel had the sudden realization that he’d just backed the underdog in a struggle he hadn’t known was going on. Yaret might have resources, but Sedial was in charge. This … couldn’t be good. “I think he’s up to something, sir.”
“Sedial is always up to something.”
Michel tried to piece together the fragments he had gleaned from his week with Tenik. “His underlings are meeting with a Silver Rose in secret. They tried to intercept me when I defected. I … sir, I know it’s not my place to say it, but if spying and counterespionage is your purview, Sedial is definitely making a play for your power.”
Yaret and Tenik shared a long look, and Yaret gave a sigh. “You’re not saying anything I don’t already know.”
“Doesn’t he have enough power?” Tenik asked. “He is emperor in all but name.”