"Ha!" He nods his head. "I like her, Nel. She says it like it is."
"Like I said, I didn't raise her." Neleda does manage a smile now.
"Well, Helyn, it might seem like only good things when I lay it out to you like this, but the truth? It's going to be a hard road, kid. Ravelyn is elitist and the court is a lion’s den. They don't accept Nel, and they won't accept you. Not for a good long while. And if you choose to go to Five?" He winces. "In my days, common kids were treated like shit. I doubt it's changed much."
I don't understand this man's logic. "Then why did you choose a common wife?"
"I didn't choose a common wife, I chose Neleda." He takes her hand. "She's not good. She's not even nice. I'm not the kind of man who enjoys good or nice."
Now that's more like what I expect of a noble demi. "So, if you're a ruthless asshole like my mother, why exactly should I believe a word you're saying to me?"
"Because I love this woman, and you're her daughter, which makes you part of my family.”
I’m growing annoyed and impatient. "Bullshit."I’ve never beenfamilyto Neleda. Just someone she could use.
“How about you follow me?” The duke stands, and so does my mother. "And by the by, I enjoy a bit of colorful language as much as the next man, but I suggest you hold your tongue at court. Our young king doesn’t suffer disrespect."
An image of the man in the garden, just as he was when he stood barely two feet away last night, flashes in my mind and I curse my stupid memory. He made me uncomfortable then, and I’m even more bothered now, knowing who he is.
Our young king doesn’t suffer disrespect.
I’ll bet. With those cold blues eyes, I’d be surprised if he toleratesanythingbut complete submission.
I hesitate when I get up, considering making a hasty retreat via the window. I mistrust everything out of Salvar Rhodes’s mouth, if only because he married my mother. Carefully, I trail his steps, watching for an exit at every turn. Windows, unguarded doors.
I want to escape, but if I leave without finding concrete proof that he's talking out of his ass, Alva's going to spit in my stew for a month straight.
We walk through white stone halls and corridors until we reach a vast, oddly untidy hardwood study.
The duke circles an oval table where a map of Xhera is spread, marked with several hand-carved figures—castles and boats, sigils and vehicles. I look at the map in wonder, noticing each handwritten note:unstable, over the court of Flaur, andhiddenat the capital of Dorath. Even smaller territories merit mentions here.
If we were at war, I’d think this was a strategic map, meant for planning schemes to destabilize each realm. There hasn’t been an open inter-kingdom conflict since the Dark War and the founding of Magnapolis, the city of the five kingdoms, so he must keep the information for another reason. Still, it seems seriously sensitive. Salvar knows I’ll remember everything I see here, but he doesn’t seem bothered one way or another. He makes for his desk, unlocks it with a key at his belt, and pulls a blue leatherbound volume.
He pages it and slides it along the large desk. "Go on, take a look."
Still highly skeptical, I do take a peek, too curious to help myself.
The page he stopped at lists names, with dates of birth and information. At the top, a decorative sigil features the name of his duchy: Elandheart.
I scan past the list of unfamiliar names, until the very end.The last line reads:Salvar Rhodes, born nones of Imboloc year 1107, married toNeleda Stovrj, born ides of Litha year 1384. Heir:Helyn Stovrj, born nones of Samhain 1400.
"What's this?” My voice is barely over a whisper.
"The latest version of the peerage, printed three months ago. Check it out at any bookstore if you want to be sure it's real."
My name is in the peerage, along with my date of birth. I was wrong, then: my mother knew exactly when I was born. Though the words are right before my eyes, I can't wrap my head around it.
"Sometimes good thingscanhappen to you, Helyn," my mother says.
I don't believe a word she says, this least of all, but I'm starting to see that the only way I can spring their trap is by joining the game.
I can stay the fuck away, or I can play the players and take whatever I can get my hands on in the process.
This is a job. Maybe the largest job ever to come my way. I’m going to take from the rich, privileged assholes ruling this world, to redistribute the resources in my city.
Money, resources, influence. I’ll claim everything I can and leave with my head high when the time comes.
If I play my cards right, this could even come with a side dish of vengeance against the woman who’s wronged me in so many ways.