The three ladies curtsied and left the room. As soon as the door shut, Dareena rounded on Tarius. “Steward, while I appreciate your initiative in this manner, I really must protest your choices. Lyria and I are old enemies, and while Rantissa and Soldian seem nice enough, I do not know them. I really would have preferred to choose my ladies-in-waiting myself.”
“I understand,” Tarius said gravely. “It is, in fact, customary for the Dragon’s Gift to do so, but she normally chooses from the noble girls in her generation. Due to your, ah, common birth, there are none that you are already acquainted with, so I took the liberty of choosing for you. I must also point out,” he said before Dareena could protest further, “that it was difficult enough finding these three.”
“And why is that?” Drystan demanded. “Dareena is the Dragon’s Gift, and her recent actions have saved the lives of thousands of soldiers. Our women should be lining up to serve her.”
“I agree,” the steward said apologetically, “however, not everyone in the kingdom shares those views. There are those who view your… arrangement as unseemly and do not want their daughters anywhere near the royal household out of fear that they too might get the idea that it is acceptable to have more than one paramour. Add that to the anger many of the nobles are feeling over the tax cuts, and we are left with a dearth of qualified candidates.”
Drystan snarled, a sentiment that echoed Dareena’s feelings perfectly. So the aristocracy was determined to snub them simply because they could not keep their noses out of Dareena’s bedroom? Well, she would show them. When the four of them finally had the chance to wed, she would throw the most lavish, ostentatious ceremony she could come up with to celebrate their union. A union which had been blessed by the dragon god, and was necessary to save their people and lift the curse. Clearly the citizens of Dragonfell did not understand this and were determined to view Dareena as a slut. That would have to change.
But first, she had to deal with the matter at hand.
“Why is Lyria Hallowdale here?” Dareena asked, genuinely curious. “I can’t imagine she volunteered.”
Tarius cleared his throat. “Her father volunteered her on her behalf,” he said, looking mildly uncomfortable. “Apparently there has been trouble at home these past few weeks.”
“Of that I have no doubt.” Dareena had to hide a smirk. She imagined Lyria had been an absolute terror to deal with after she’d lost her position to Dareena. Lord Hallowdale had clearly had enough of her, for once, and was trying to teach her a lesson.
“Very well,” she said. “I will take all three of them, on a trial basis.” As much as she wanted to send Lyria away, she knew that was exactly what the dragon born noble wanted. By keeping her here, she was forcing Lyria to pay penance for once—something she’d likely never had to do in her privileged life. But in the meantime, Dareena would write to Cyra and offer her a position. It was high time she had a female friend by her side.
6
Drystan was sitting in his office, going through the morning mail, when a knock came at the door. “Who is it?” he called, even as he slit open a letter from yet another one of his vassals. They’d been pouring in ever since the treasure had been recovered, asking for audiences, reminding him of old alliances and agreements, making complaints, and on it went. Drystan had gotten the very distinct impression over the last few days that his father had been ignoring these letters, or that the vassals had been too afraid to send them—some of these grievances seemed to have been festering for quite a while.
“It’s us,” Alistair said, opening the door.
Drystan jumped out of his seat as he and Tariana came in, looking tired but satisfied. “How did the recruit mission go?” he asked, embracing them both. “Did you put—” He stopped himself, then cleared his throat. “We should go downstairs so you can give me a full report.”
Alistair went still, and Tariana scanned the room, eyes narrowed. Drystan was still getting used to the idea of holding his tongue; he’d been holding all meetings of strategic import in the underground council chamber to avoid Shadowhaven’s magical spying. It infuriated him that he could not count on privacy even in his personal quarters, but then, this was war. He supposed if he had the power to listen in on King Wulorian’s war meetings, he would do the same.
The three of them adjourned to the underground chamber, along with Shadley, who had been on his way to meet Drystan anyway. Drystan half-wondered if he should bring Dareena with them, but she’d started feeling dizzy and tired in the mornings, so he was loath to wake her. She’d still been sound asleep when he’d left their chambers an hour ago.
You can always debrief her later.
“Well?” he asked once they were all settled. “What news from Glastar?”
“The strike forces have been assembled,” Tariana said. “Xenai and Ara have taken over their training for the moment. We did have a rather…interesting development during testing.” A dark cloud seemed to cross her face. “We found spies amongst our ranks.”
“Spies?” Drystan and Shadley said at once. “Warlock spies?” Shadley demanded.
Alistair nodded. “Not warlocks themselves, but yes, from Shadowhaven. They have illusion charms, and they have been using them to impersonate our soldiers after killing them.” His jaw clenched. “I discovered one who was posing as a dragon born, because he shied away from Tariana’s flames during the tests. We forced every soldier at the base to strip, and found eight spies in total among them. All have been executed.”
Shadley shook his head in disgust. “We’ll need to do the same with the rest of the encampments, and with all the castle staff,” he said. “It’s bad enough that the warlocks are eavesdropping on us with magic, but this…”
“There is no use in dwelling on it,” Drystan said firmly. Such thoughts only served to anger them, and anger would not serve them well. Yes, there could be spies amongst them, and they would deal with it quickly and efficiently. But he would not allow himself, or his staff, to be ruled by emotion and fear. They needed to focus on how to get ahead of the enemy, and not merely sit here and wring their hands.
“Yes, Your Highness.” Shadley cleared his throat. “I do have some very interesting news from Elvenhame, just in by raven this morning.”
“Oh?” Tariana sat up straight. “Anything about Arolas?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Shadley gave her a smug smile. “The High King did indeed finally release his eldest son from the dungeons, but the lingering effects from the warlock envoy’s spell are fast wearing off, and he has not been taking to Arolas’s temper tantrums well. Neither has the elven goddess, for that matter.”