Made sense.
“By the time Behoun realized the danger, the chance to cover up their blatant corruption had passed. When the selection was announced, they scrambled to find a suitable candidate and settled on Amphie. The plan was to wedge her into the spouse spot and use her influence to shield themselves.”
“And to kill Kosandion if she failed?”
“Yes. They hired an assassin to act as her backup. They had to use an outsider so it wouldn’t be traced to them, and Prysen Ol fit that bill perfectly. If Amphie was eliminated, Prysen Ol would attack the Sovereign. Nobody would connect it to Behoun. At the very least the attempted murder would disrupt the selection and create enough problems to buy them some time to regroup.”
“Amphie went off script, then?” I asked. “The entire galaxy saw her give Prysen Ol that look.”
Lady Wexyn nodded. “Hubris. She comes from a wealthy family, and she’s been taught from an early age that she is special and that she deserves all the things she wants. Amphie is a narcissist, focused on herself to the exclusion of all else and pathologically addicted to attention, especially from men. Her biggest fear is being ridiculed. Losing to Oond pushed all the right buttons.”
“She wanted to punish Kosandion for her failure?”
Lady Wexyn nodded. “She would’ve punished the whole world if she could. When a person like Amphie lashes out, there is no limit. If she could’ve disintegrated everyone in that arena with a flick of her fingers, all of us would be atomic dust right now.”
“And Prysen?”
“The identity of the hidden assassin was a bit of a mystery. I had narrowed it down to three possibilities before the debate, but then he brought up the planetphage. It wasn’t particularly relevant to the discussion. He’d slid it in there because he was enamored with the story of a creature that traveled from world to world, devouring all in its path and feeling sad for itself. He might as well have written ‘Conflicted Assassin’ on his forehead.”
Put like that, it did seem obvious.
Lady Wexyn poured more tea. “I will say, the man committed fully. I had expected them to call it off once they realized what a pair of innkeepers are capable of, but he was given the signal and he made a good effort. If you are wondering, I doubt Kosandion will kill him. Why waste a perfectly good assassin?”
“You sound like Caldenia.”
Lady Wexyn smiled into her cup.
“I’ve met him before, you know,” she said.
“Prysen Ol?”
She shook her head. “Kosandion. When I was ten years old, my mother had business in the Dominion’s capital, and she brought me with her to further my training. I saw him from afar during a state celebration, so that night I climbed onto his balcony to get a closer look. He saw me and tried to chase me. We had a lovely run across the balconies and rooftops. Kosandion is genetically engineered to be much faster and stronger than an average person, and he had gotten used to outrunning and outmuscling his guards. He gave it his all.” She laughed. “He was so puzzled when he couldn’t catch me. You should’ve seen his face.”
I had seen the stone-faced Kosandion, the Sovereign Kosandion, the tired Kosandion, even the charming Kosandion, but never a puzzled Kosandion. I couldn’t even picture it in my head.
“Eleven years later, he came to the Temple looking for my mother. Caldenia had petitioned her to avenge her brother’s death.”
“Did your mother judge her petition worthy?”
“She did.” That hint of power simmered under her skin again. “Kosandion wanted details.”
“Did she tell him?”
Lady Wexyn shook her head. “It wasn’t his petition. If his aunt wanted him to know, she would’ve told him.”
Her mother must’ve gone about it just like her daughter. Gathered information, assumed an identity, infiltrated the inner circle of those responsible, and finally brought it to a torturous and bloody end. The greater the grudge, the more severe was the punishment. Vengeance had to match the evil that spawned the need for it. It was the only way harmony would be restored.
“Kosandion spent three days at the Temple trying to convince her. We strolled through the Temple gardens together.” She sounded almost wistful.
“You like him.” It slipped out almost on its own.
“What’s not to like?”
“He could still…” I let it trail off.
“He won’t choose me. A consort can be beautiful, beloved, even worshipped, but they can never be capable of standing on their own. The greatest sin a consort can commit is to split the ruler’s power base and become a threat. People like Kosandion do not marry people like me, Dina. They marry those who would make weak rivals, and I would be a very dangerous rival. The Sovereign in him understands that.”
She was right but it felt so wrong.
I finished my tea. “So, what now?”
“Tomorrow all of us will meet again. I suppose the selection will be declared void, and a new selection will be announced to be held in the next 3 or so years with a fresh roster of candidates.”
“What will you do? The galaxy now knows your face. Won’t it make things difficult for you?”
She gave an elegant one-shouldered shrug. “I suppose I could change my face and my body. I’m too young to retire. But then again, perhaps I will disappear for a few years. Have an adventure while the wheels of the galaxy revolve slowly, grinding memories to dust. I don’t know yet.”
She must’ve known that this would be the outcome from the start, and yet she had done it anyway. Everything she had done from the moment she stepped into the inn until now was a love letter, written with the chiming of thin bracelets, the spin of a translucent veil, and the thrust of a razor-sharp dagger. It was exquisite. And now the message was complete. Tomorrow, she would sign it with a flourish, and they would go their separate ways. It was a farewell to Kosandion and to the girl who let him chase her across the Capital’s balconies years ago.
I rose. Beast jumped off my lap. I bowed my head to her. She bowed back. I straightened my robe and walked out of her quarters the same way I came.
27
When we last left our intrepid heroes, Lady Wexyn turned out to be the Priestess of Revenge and revealed her history with Kosandion. But he will never marry her, because she is entirely too dangerous to have around. Oy, what a twist. Now the selection might be cancelled.
Will he get married, won’t he get married? This is ruining our emotions! Enough with the suspense already! Get on with it!
“…Conduct unbecoming an innkeeper,” Frank Copeland droned on. “That shitshow should’ve never happened.”
I resisted the urge to take a page out of Sean’s playbook and growl at the screen. The Innkeeper Assembly was perturbed by how Game Day had ended, so they’d decided to call me first thing in the morning, over Zoom of all things, and take me to task. To be fair, most of the condemnation was coming from Frank Copeland and Dawn Phillips. The two of them ran large-venue inns, Frank in California and Dawn in Alberta.
At least I wasn’t dealing with the entire Assembly, only with the seven members of the North American branch council.
“You approved this shitshow beforehand,” I pointed out. “Quote: ‘Make all reasonable efforts to accommodate the Sovereign’s wishes.’”