They offered up a blush satin pillow bearing a golden orb, polished smooth except for a maze of etchings.
The curious object finally captured my focus. I reached for it, then hesitated. “What is this?”
“The Orb of Answering. It will respond with a yes or no to three questions of your choice, so long as the answer is known to any living being with the Kindred’s blood.”
I took it into my hands and nearly dropped it in surprise. The metal was throbbing and warm to the touch, as if it were a living, hot-blooded thing. It buzzed with an energy that seemed to connect with the magic inside me, a current that flowed freely between my skin and its golden surface.
I quickly set it back on the cushion and frowned. “How is such magic possible?”
The pair exchanged a shrewd smile. “Only the Kindred can provide that answer.”
That hardly put me at ease. I longed for the innocence of yesterday, when I had believed meeting these people might be fun.
“Well, um, thanks,” I blurted out. “Have a nice evening.”
“Don’t you want our second gift?”
An eerie disquiet tugged at my intuition. There was something about these two that felt almost sinister, despite their polite demeanor.
A broad smile spread across the woman’s face but did not quite reach her eyes. “We understand you have a mortal brother studying at a Descended school.”
The hair on my neck prickled. “How do you know that?”
“We’re the keepers of Emarion’s knowledge. It’s our job to know such things.”
“It’s not your job to know about my family,” I snapped.
At my side, Remis cleared his throat, then shot me a pointed look. He dropped his voice low. “I believe what Her Majesty means to say is that this is not widely known. We ask for your discretion on such matters.”
“Of course.” The woman matched Remis’s hushed tenor. “Our realm knows well the importance of safeguarding sensitive information. And the consequences, should such knowledge be released.”
She cocked her head at me, still sporting that hollow smile. “We would be honored to welcome your brother. He is invited as a personal guest of our Crown at the institution of his choice for as long as he wishes to study.”
“Oh, how wonderful,” Lily gushed from Remis’s other side. She clasped her hands to her chest and beamed at me. “It’s what he’s always wanted!”
Remis frowned at Lily’s enthusiasm, but he nodded in agreement. “A generous offer. I’m sure he will be pleased to—”
“No,” I growled. “Absolutely not.”
My entire entourage gawked at me. Remis was furious, Lily looked crestfallen, Eleanor and Aemonn looked baffled.
“Your Majesty,” Remis started, “such an opportunity is exceedingly rare. It would be a great honor for the boy.”
“I said no.” I glared at the pink-eyed woman and tried to silently convey that I knew all too well the evils she and her kind were committing. How the mortals they invited never returned home—how they, or their families, all seemed to meet a suspicious end.
An end that put them on the involuntary side of Sophos’s highly guarded research labs.
She gave a delicate shrug. “The offer remains open, if you—or he—have a change of heart.”
There would be no change of heart. Teller would not set foot in Sophos—not as long as I lived.
“Farewell then,” I said acidly. “May the Sacred Sea carry you home swiftly tonight.”
“Actually, we’ll be staying a few more days.” The woman’s gaze rolled to Remis, then back to me. “We have some business to conduct.”
I shook my head. “Your business here is done.”
“Your Majesty,” Remis interrupted.
“Is there a problem?” a deep baritone voice called out.
A man with a thick mustache emerged from the onlookers. His scowl of displeasure unlocked a memory that sent a flicker of panic dashing through me. “The visitors from Sophos are personal guests of House Benette. They are welcome in my home for as long as they wish.”
“Evrim,” Remis said warmly, conjuring one of his usual diplomatic smiles. “No problem at all. A minor miscommunication.”
Before I could respond, Remis’s hand squeezed my arm, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from flinching. He leaned in and growled a warning. “Do not make an enemy of him.”
“I don’t trust Sophos,” I hissed back.
“Well Evrim Benette does, and House Benette provides weapons to all of Lumnos. If you interfere with their business, every last House will rise to Challenge you.”
I ground my teeth and tucked my hands into my skirt to conceal my fists. I was more than happy to piss off Sophos, I might even be willing to provoke House Benette. But I could not afford to make an enemy of the whole of Lumnos—not yet.
I gave the Sophos Descended a smile as empty as their own. “My mistake,” I said sweetly. “Have a lovely stay.”
With shallow bows and an ominous stare, the Sophos Descended eased back into the crowd.
“Diem!” A little girl with a mop of blonde ringlets yanked out of her panicked mother’s arms and bolted toward me, her arms extended.
I smiled and dropped to my knees. “Evanie,” I cooed, scooping her up and hugging her to my chest. “I didn’t think you’d remember me.”
“You had candy. I never forget candy.” She beamed at me. “Got any more?”
“You know my daughter?” Evrim asked.
“And your son,” I said. A young boy peered out from behind his father’s shadow, pale-faced and terrified, likely remembering his rudeness at our last interaction. I offered him a smile. “Hello again, Lorris.”
Evrim’s stare sharpened. “How is it you know my children, but not me?”
“You met her, Father,” Lorris said. Evrim’s cruel glare snapped to his son, who cowered away as if struck.
“I used to work as a healer,” I explained. “I treated your daughter when she was ill.”
He awkwardly shuffled his feet, then straightened his coat. “Of course. Forgive my brief lapse in memory. House Benette is honored to have welcomed you into our home.”
I almost snorted. My visit had been anything but honored. They had treated me as unworthy of their notice, and I’d repaid the favor by sneaking into Evrim’s office and stealing the plans to the armory and his list of top customers.
And with it, I signed the death warrants of all the Descended guards who didn’t survive the Guardians’ bloody attack.
I fought a fresh wave of guilt and reminded myself of the role I was supposed to play.
“And what a beautiful home it was,” I gushed. “Your children are so well-behaved. You must be very proud.”
My fakery worked, and Evrim puffed up like a fluttering peacock.
“Do you have any children of your own, Your Majesty?” his wife asked.
Aemonn jumped forward, taking my hand in his. “Not quite yet,” he said warmly, “but my Diem has such nurturing instincts. No doubt she’ll be a doting mother very soon.”
Loud chatter erupted in the ballroom. With that single statement, Aemonn had kindled a firestorm of speculation. By the end of the night, the whole of the realm would believe Aemonn had already put a baby in my belly and cemented his place as my future consort.