Page 55 of The Truth-Teller's Bargain
“A good spymaster shields a sovereign from blades in the dark;
a great spymaster shields a sovereign from the blades they forge within.
For the hardest duty is not guarding the Realm, nor even guarding the crown?—
but guarding the sovereign from the person they might become.”
—THE TREATISES OF THE VEILED COURT
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Hunter’s Moon, Day 24.
The man who’d been given Goran Arranil’s title after his execution strongly resembled his father, so much so that Alethea’s stomach turned just looking at him. He was on his knees in the middle of the war tent, wrists bound behind his back. His face was pale and brutalized, his short blond hair caked with dirt and blood. Despite his situation, there wasn’t a trace of defeat in his arrogant posture.
Emi, Dawes, and Kerrigan stood at the back of the tent, giving Nakir and his spymaster plenty of room to work. Alethea stood with them, just behind Emi, as if the small woman could shield her from what was to come.
“Couldn’t resist getting a good look at the new Great Lord of Ephesus, Arranil?” Gregor spat.
The temperature of the room rose a few degrees, most of it emanating from Kerrigan. Gregor’s eyes, defiant and filled with bitterness, met Kerrigan’s and then Alethea’s for a fleeting moment before Nakir intervened.
“You’re not going to talk to her,” Nakir commanded, roughly snatching the man’s face and forcing him to meet his gaze. “You’re going to talk to me. If you speak to anyone in this room aside from me or my spymaster, there will be consequences.” His voice was steel—another side of him Alethea hadn’t seen before. Perhaps this was one of the ways he’d earned his reputation as a monster.
But Alethea wasn’t afraid. This wasn’t her first interrogation.
“Where did you get your mercenaries?” Balthasar asked, balancing a knife between two practiced, skilled fingers.
“Setta,” Gregor proclaimed proudly. “The Great Lady Erryn Osman was happy to support her sister’s righteous cause.”
Nakir crossed his arms. “And it was Queen Zenobia’s orders that brought you here, to my camp, where you were outmatched. Bold.”
A smug, bloody smile split the man’s face. He was clearly unaware of the storm brewing in Nakir’s silence.
Dawes cleared his throat, stepping forward to pass Nakir a piece of folded parchment. “Found this on him.”
Nakir opened it slowly, reading its contents without a change in his expression before passing it to Balthasar. When he spoke again, it was with barely concealed disdain. “Queen Zenobia has issued a proclamation... a bounty, if you will, on Princess Alethea’s safe return.”
Her stomach dropped. Her mother did know she was here after all. How could she not, after her stunt at the gates of Hyelea?
Gregor’s arrogant smile widened, his teeth bloody.
“And she gave you soldiers from Setta to come and get her.” Nakir’s tone dripped with disgust.
Nakir bent down, bringing himself to Leandro’s level. His eyes bore into the man before him. “Tell me, this promise she’s made... Do you really believe Zenobia Onasis would marry her daughter off to anyone who brought her home?”
“That’s what she’s said, innit? That’s the proclamation. Whoever brings the princess back to her wins her hand in marriage. Becomes the future King of Lenorea. Too bad you’re busy trying to take it for yourself the hard way, Aeshlien. You could save yourself the trouble.”
Nakir laughed, a sound devoid of humor. “If you think Zenobia would allow anyone, let alone me, to marry her daughter, simply for her safe return... you’re even stupider than you look.”
Alethea’s mind stopped at the realization of what had just transpired.“Whoever brings the princess back to her wins her hand in marriage.”Even now, she and her future were pawns in a game played by people who sought power for their own gain.
The realization was like a bucket of cold water over her head. Alethea would never be free from her mother’s scheming.
Emi reached for her, wrapping her up protectively, her expression stern. Alethea started to feel dizzy again, the room acquiring a slight tilt. The world seemed to blur at the edges, and the pain in her side intensified.
“Alethea’s future is in her own hands,” Nakir promised his prisoner. “Unlike yours. You’re going to tell me exactly how you found us...”
Alethea opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came out. The room was spinning violently now. Emi and Dawes caught her before she hit the ground, their worried voices fading as darkness claimed her.
