David Coe - Bonds of Vengeance

Diani gaped at him. “You can’t be serious!”

“Oh, but I am.”

“Olesya is our queen! In times of war, she must have the power to lead us and protect us! And you would begrudge her such?”

“In the absence of an enemy and just cause for waging war? I certainly would, as would any duke or duchess with sufficient experience in the courts.”

She felt her cheeks redden. “I have enough knowledge of our queen to know that you misjudge her, Lord Brugaosa.”

“You’re a woman, and her ally, and so I wouldn’t expect you to understand. But Alao and I have no intention of allowing her to use the unfortunate incidents in Curlinte to tighten her grip on our houses.”

“In other words, you would put the entire realm at risk in order to deny Olesya powers that she needs to fight our enemies.”

“As I’ve said, I don’t believe we know who our enemies are. Give me proof that the conspiracy was behind the attempts on your life, and I will pledge myself to defeating it, even if that means adding to Yserne’s power. But without any such evidence, I will not weaken House Brugaosa.”

“You’re a fool.”

He grinned at her, a malevolent look in his dark blue eyes. “And you’re a child. I had thought to find in you a ruler worthy of House Curlinte, a woman such as your mother had been. Obviously, I was mistaken.”

He spun away from her and stalked back to the tower entrance. Diani watched him vanish into the shadows of the stairway, then glanced around to see if anyone had been watching them. Seeing no one, she walked back as well, following Edamo’s path toward the castle and her own chamber.

Climbing the stairs to the corridor on which her sleeping quarters were located, the duchess heard a pair of familiar voices. When she emerged into the hallway, she saw her father speaking with a white-haired man, and for a disorienting moment she thought it was Edamo again.

“Here she comes,” Sertio said, looking past the man and raising a hand in greeting.

The white-haired man turned to face her, and Diani stopped where she stood. Her surprise was fleeting, giving way almost immediately to rage.

Kreazur.

Just a short time ago, sitting in the queen’s presence chamber, she had wished the minister were there with her. But never had she imagined that he would presume to make the journey without leave from her.

She advanced on him, her fists clenched. “What are you doing here, First Minister?” Before he could answer she turned her glare on her father. “Was this your doing? Do you tell him to come?”

“Your father had nothing to do with this, my lady.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I thought I might be of service to you, my lady. I served your mother for many years, and she and I spent a good deal of time together in Yserne.”

“And if you still served my mother would you have dared journey here without her permission?”

He met her gaze, his expression grim. “Your mother never would have made the journey without me.”

“I’ve a mind to send you back, and to have the captain of the guard imprison you once more when you reach the castle.”

“That is your right, my lady. And if you order me back to Curlinte, even under such a threat, I will begin the ride back immediately.”

“Don’t, Diani,” Sertio said. “You need him. I didn’t call for him, but I should have, and I’m glad he’s come. Someday you’ll be a fine duchess, just as your mother was. But you’re young still and there’s much you don’t know about the other houses, about building alliances and guarding Curlinte’s reputation as well as her borders.”

Diani wanted to argue the point, but she could still hear Edamo’s harsh words echoing in her mind. You’re a child . .

“You know those things,” she said instead, sounding so young even she couldn’t help but notice.

Sertio smiled. “Yes, I do. But think on it, Diani. Do you really wish to sit in the queen’s chamber, among all the duchesses and dukes of the realm, with your father by your side?”

Of course she didn’t. Diani knew this as well as he did. And even had she been willing to turn to her father for counsel, she would never have trusted him to sit in any chamber with Edamo. He had promised her mother that he would not seek vengeance for Cyro’s murder, but Diani wondered if he had the strength to honor the oath if presented with an opportunity to strike at Brugaosa’s duke.

Sertio placed a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to look him in the eye. “I understand that you’re angry. To be honest, I told Kreazur that you would be, and I feel that you have cause. But next to all that’s happened in the past turn, this is a trifle, a matter to be spoken of once and then forgotten. Don’t allow it to weaken you and our house. That’s not the way of a wise ruler.”

“You have my apologies, my lady,” the Qirsi said. “I shouldn’t have come. But now that I’m here, I hope that you’ll allow me to help you, just as your mother did.”

Your mother . How many times had she heard that over the past half turn? From the queen and her father, from Edamo and Kreazur, and from so many of the duchesses as well. Most of them meant well, she knew. But she had long since grown tired of hearing it.

“Very well,” she said sourly. “You may stay, First Minister. And I’ll. . I’ll be grateful for whatever counsel you can offer.”

He bowed to her. “Of course, my lady.”

“There’s to be another feast tonight,” she said. “I’ll expect to see both of you there. For now, I wish to rest.”

Sertio nodded. “That’s a fine idea.” He looked like he might say more, and Diani half expected him to tell her that her mother had often done the same thing. Mercifully, though, he kept his silence.

She left them there, her anger lingering like smoke from a crop fire. It wasn’t just that Kreazur had come unbidden, she realized as she returned to her chamber, though to be sure that was part of it. It was that despite all her father and the queen had said in his defense, she still didn’t trust him.

Kreazur had expected the duchess to be angry with him. Had it not been of vital importance that he come to Yserne, he never would have made the journey without her permission. But though he had anticipated her reaction, and had been willing to endure her rage, he had dreaded seeing the other ministers. If even one of them had heard of his imprisonment, it would be too many, such had been his humiliation.

Arriving in the queen’s hall for the feast, the minister noted with profound relief that most of the other Qirsi barely looked at him, as if they assumed he had been with the duchess all this time. Only the archminister appeared to know, and she approached him quietly, hooking her arm into his and walking him to the far end of the hall.

“How are you, cousin?” she asked in a low voice, nodding to one of the other Qirsi.

“Well enough,” he said.

“I admire you for coming here at all, after what you’ve been through.”

He shrugged. “I’m assuming you’re the only one who knows.”

“For now, perhaps. But word of this is bound to spread eventually. And besides, that’s not really what I meant. Had she been my duchess, I would have left her service upon my release. A woman like that isn’t worthy of so fine a minister.”

They stopped walking and he faced her. Abeni, however, was looking over his shoulder, back toward her queen.

“I was born in Curlinte, cousin, as were my parents. I serve the house, not the woman.”

She smiled, her eyes flicking to his for just an instant. “Of course you do, cousin. I was just saying that I would not be so generous, or forgiving. But each of us must find his or her way through these times.” The archminister looked at him once more, the smile still fixed on her lips. “In any case, I’m glad to see you well. I hope we’ll have another opportunity to speak before you leave Yserne.”