A Queen of Thieves & Chaos (Fate & Flame, #3)

“In fact, there is.” He pauses, notices Kazimir standing nearby. “Surely, you have something more important to do than eavesdrop on His Highness’s courtly conversations?”

“No, actually, I don’t.” Kazimir’s expression remains stony.

I give him a nod to move away, struggling to hide my amusement. We both know I’ll repeat everything Adley says the moment he’s gone, but giving the lord the illusion of respect—albeit reluctantly—is to my advantage.

Satisfied, Adley shifts his focus back. “Given all that is transpiring in the kingdom, I feel it would be prudent of His Highness to reevaluate things.”

“In what way?”

“The royal wedding, for one. You have arbitrarily set it for Hudem, but I would advise there is no need to wait—”

“We are not moving up the date of the wedding. Do not suggest it again.” If it were up to Adley, we would have been married within an hour of announcing the union. He’s stopped just short of accusing me of stalling. But I’m walking a fine line here, and I do need to keep up pretenses. “The castle staff is working hard to prepare for the date we’ve set. I do not want to overburden them. They’ve already been through so much.”

His fleeting grimace morphs into a smile. “Very well. Might we also discuss Islor’s traditions of Presenting Day?”

“Presenting Day isn’t until next Hudem.” The first of the year, when mortals of a certain age are offered for bidding as tributaries.

“Precisely. Which gives the mortals more time to organize, more time for this poison to find its way into their veins. If we were to move Presenting Day up to this Hudem and lower the age requirement, we could claim the children—”

“The children.” I glare at him as I repeat his words.

“Yes. Before they are corrupted by the Ybarisan poison that your predecessor allowed to run rampant.”

I don’t know what Zander allowed—how much he knew about this poison—but I know he didn’t want what’s happening in Islor. But Adley takes any and every opportunity to highlight all the ways my brother went awry. “And what age would you suggest is suitable?”

“Well …” He frowns, pretending to consider this question. “It is really a matter of what age a mortal parent may dose their child, is it not?”

“So you are suggesting we pry babes from their mother’s arms.” An image of my mortal baker with her three little children hits me, and my anger swells.

“It is these very mothers who are dosing their unwitting children and condemning them to death. Need I remind you of Hawkrest?”

My mouth sours with a bitter taste. “You need not.” Zander fled, and I was forced to witness the life drain from their young bodies until the glowing marks Wendeline branded on their hands faded. What choice did I have, hours after overthrowing him from his seat, but to do the opposite of what he wanted? What Romeria wanted. “And what would the keepers do with these children until they reach a respectable age to serve as tributaries?”

“Why, care for them in a safe and protected environment, of course. Just as you are doing now, with your staff.”

“Keeping them within the castle walls isn’t the same as keeping them in cages.”

“I did not suggest cages, Your Highness.” Adley paints his face horrified. He could play a court jester in one of our productions, his acting skill impeccable. “Bartering children is not the most palatable solution, but it is better than seeing them executed. I’ve spoken to several of the other lords and ladies, and they are all in favor of this plan. We could announce it during the next assembly.”

I sigh. I would hate to agree with Adley, but in this case, he may be right, at least about moving up Presenting Day. “I’ll consider your request.”

“It would go a long way to curry favor. There are still those within Islor who are apprehensive about the future direction of—”

“I said I’ll consider it.” I sharpen my tone, enough to tell him not to needle me. Adley’s so good at it.

“Of course, Your Highness. That is all I ask. Until then, I think I will enjoy a lovely morning stroll through the garden.” Adley bows with a flourish and wanders toward the path.

Kazimir’s boots scrape across the sandy ground on his approach. “‘If I may …’” He mocks Adley’s standard line. “What was that about?”

“Besides giving my balls a good fondle while he claws at power?” I relay Adley’s request.

“He wants to claim children now. Why am I not surprised.” Kazimir grimaces. “What will you do?”

I shake my head. “Even now, keepers are locking up their servants of all ages to protect themselves.” And how can I blame them? I’m doing the same. I just have the luxury of a castle and guards.

“Do you believe he had nothing to do with last night’s poisoning?”

“Why would he?” I watch Adley disappear behind a hedge. “Kettling doesn’t benefit if I die before Saoirse sits on the throne.”

“No.” Kazimir scowls after him. “But he’s up to something. I feel it in my bones.”

“That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it? To find out?” I tease, but there’s nothing false in my words. Kazimir is my most trusted advisor. I would have replaced Boaz with him my first day as king, but I need Kazimir free to move about Cirilea, gathering information on traitors and plots, not bogged down by daily duty. “Have you heard from Rhodes?” My other trusted captain who has been tasked to be my eyes and ears within Cirilea, tailing Adley’s allies.

Kazimir nods. “He followed Lord Stoll into the Goat’s Knoll last night.”

“And who was the lord of Hawkrest meeting with?” I ask, but I’m sure I already know the answer.

“The owner of the tavern.”

“Of course.” Bexley deals in information as readily as a fish-monger peddles his daily catch.

“Would you like me to compel details of their conversation from her?”

I chuckle. “You won’t compel her to give you anything she doesn’t want to give, and it’ll cost you far more, believe me.” I’ve relied on Bexley for one thing or another since the first night I slinked into her establishment decades ago, pretending to be another Islorian passing through. Somehow, she knew who I was with one glance. She’s one of my greatest allies and yet likely the most dangerous immortal within Islor, if not beyond our borders. Bexley looks out for Bexley, and she does it well.

“I’ll pay her a visit myself as soon as I’m able.” Behind us, blades clash as several guards move in for their morning practice. “But right now, I need to clear my head.”





CHAPTER THIRTEEN




GRACEN