Cinda Chima - The Crimson Crown

Right. Han had come to the Fells pretending to be Abelard’s eyes and ears.

“What do I think, or what can I prove?” Han said.

“What do you think?”

“Lord Bayar has tried—several times—to murder the princess heir—now the queen. She’s too independent for his liking. He’s backing the Princess Mellony. Meanwhile, Micah still hopes to bed and wed the queen.” Han wouldn’t be spilling anything Abelard didn’t already know. “You told me to keep either of those things from happening. I figured that the best way to accomplish that was to get between them and Her Majesty by sticking close to her.”

“Very close.” Leaning forward, Abelard asked, “Are you sleeping with her?”

Han snorted, while his heart pinged painfully. “How likely is that?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you, Alister,” Abelard said. She reached out and brushed her fingers along the side of his face. “You are handsome, and you have a certain wicked charm. And the new queen seems to have inherited the profligate ways of her mother, Marianna.”

Han forced down his memories of Raisa dancing with Nightwalker at Marisa Pines. He said nothing, hoped he displayed nothing.

“It’s rumored that the princess was hiding in Oden’s Ford while Micah and Fiona were there.” Abelard kept her shrewd gray-green eyes fixed on him.

Han frowned, as if baffled. “Really? Why would she go there?”

“That’s the question,” Abelard said. “Is it possible Micah and the Princess Raisa had planned to meet in Oden’s Ford?”

Han’s mind left off unraveling lies and focused on what Abelard was saying. “What?”

“I’m wondering if the Princess Raisa has succumbed to Micah’s well-known charms,” Abelard said dryly. “I know she was seeing him prior to her abrupt self-exile. Maybe they ran off together.”

She doesn’t know that Lord Bayar and Queen Marianna meant to marry Raisa off to Micah, Han thought. She’d assume Marianna would have been opposed to it.

“I don’t know,” Han said, thinking hard, treading carefully. “I kept a close eye on Micah. I was in and out of his rooms a hundred times. Micah saw a lot of girlies, but I never saw any sign that he and the Princess Raisa were walking out.”

“Walking out?” Abelard’s lips twitched in amusement.

“Seeing each other,” Han said, all the while wondering himself—was it possible? Surely he would have known. Wouldn’t he?

Then again, he’d been several months at Oden’s Ford before he’d begun seeing the girl he’d known as Rebecca on a regular basis. What if Micah had been crossing the river to see her? What if she’d made Micah the same offer she’d made to Han—to be clandestine lovers—and Micah had accepted? Raisa was good at keeping secrets—she’d kept her identity secret from him for nearly a year.

Unbidden, Fiona’s words came back to him. The princess heir has agreed to allow my brother Micah to court her. In secret, of course.

“I guess it’s possible,” Han went on. “But he would have had to keep it from Fiona, which wouldn’t be easy. If she’d found out, she’d have cackled to their father in a heartbeat.” Or killed Raisa herself, he thought.

Abelard studied Han’s face a while longer. “You’ve implied there’s a rift in the Bayar family—between Micah and his father, and between Micah and Fiona.”

“There’s none of them getting along,” Han said. “Fiona doesn’t like that Lord Bayar wants to marry Micah into the Gray Wolf line. She thinks, why not me?”

Abelard raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? How would that work?”

“Fiona thinks we should ditch the Gray Wolf line altogether,” Han said. “She favors a wizard queen. And you can guess who she has in mind for that job.”

“Indeed,” Abelard murmured, rubbing her thumb and fingers together as if she were already counting the cash. “But you don’t have proof of this?”

Han shook his head. “Only what she’s told me.”

“Fiona is confiding in you , then?” Abelard smiled. “How is that possible?”

Han didn’t smile back. “She hopes to use me against Micah. She knows we don’t get on.”

“Well, now,” Abelard said, drumming her fingers on the tabletop. “How to use this?”

“So you don’t agree?” Han said. “About ditching the Gray Wolf line?” He kept his tone casual, his expression indifferent, though a lot was riding on the answer.

Abelard glanced around, then leaned closer. “I might consider it, Alister, if I knew that the resulting magical bloodbath would be worth it. Better to have Hanalea’s line on the throne than the Bayars. Right now, there are too many unanswered questions. We still don’t know whether the Armory of the Gifted Kings still exists and, if so, who holds it.”

That again, Han thought, trying to keep the skepticism off his face. He’d nearly forgotten about the armory since his days with Abelard’s crew at Oden’s Ford. But the dean still seemed fixed on it.

“If it exists—and the Bayars hold it—wouldn’t they have taken over already?” Han said.

“Until now, Aerie House seemed satisfied with being first among wizards, as they have been since the Breaking,” Abelard said. “Many in the assembly and the council attach themselves to the Bayars because they always win, and the cowards don’t want to pay the price for backing the losing side.” She paused. “And yet, you’re risking your life to oppose Lord Bayar. Why? What do you hope to gain?”

Han shrugged, trying to ignore the queasiness in his middle. “One thing leads to another.”

“I’d suggest you lock your doors and hire a taster,” Abelard said dryly. “And bring an army to Gray Lady, or you’ll never make it there alive.”

I don’t have an army, Han thought. All I have is Crow. And maybe not even him. Crow hadn’t returned to Aediion since Han had surprised him with Fire Dancer.

After a moment of glum silence, Abelard continued. “Lord Bayar means to elect Micah High Wizard in his place. Then he will put Fiona on the council to fill the Bayar seat. That will give Micah increased influence over the queen, and constant access to her, if he doesn’t have that already. In time, he will wear her down. We don’t want that.”

“Seems like something needs to happen to make them look like losers,” Han murmured. “Something that would call their infallibility into question. Something that would drive their sunny-day allies away.”

The dean scowled. “Leave that to me,” she said. “I didn’t hire you to plan political strategy.” She shook her hair back. “Dolph deVilliers is on the council, and he hates the Bayars. There’s you, and there’s me. That’s three out of six on the council. We need to win one more member to our side in order to avoid Gavan Bayar’s tie-breaking vote.”

“Our side?” Han said.

“I intend to be High Wizard,” Abelard said.

Well, Han thought, I’d prefer Abelard next to Raisa than Micah Bayar. But I’d rather be next to Raisa myself. Is there any way to make that happen? His mind skittered down that side path until Abelard’s voice broke in.

“Until we know more, it makes sense to continue to keep Queen Raisa alive and prevent a marriage to Micah. I want you to look into the possibility that they are seeing each other on the sly.” She paused. “If they are, are you prepared to eliminate Micah?”

More ready than I care to admit, Han thought, remembering those bleak, desperate days after Raisa disappeared from Oden’s Ford. “If you want,” he said, kicking back in his chair as though he didn’t care one way or the other. “If you make it worth my while.”

Abelard nodded briskly, seeming satisfied. “Meanwhile, I’ll try to find another match for the queen. Someone more to my liking.”