Page 126 of Shadows and Roses

"Go on. You clearly have more to say." Indulging him was like talking to a child.

He glanced to the side. "You trust your guards?"

"I trust everyone in this hall."

"Including me?"

"Damon…" Anais' claws tapped the desk.

He made a placating gesture, fingers spread and patting the air. "Yes, alright! Before you tear out my tongue—the duchess is telling everyone that there will be war soon, yes? War with Nadraken, we all assume. Those troops are all loyal to her. She’s been gathering—convincing, bribing, blackmailing, whatever works—as many mercenaries and soldiers as possible. Everyone knows I have influence over the thousands of new rebel soldiers. I’m offended she only offered me a barony."

Damon paused to scowl.

Perhaps if the lady had offered her claws.

Anais had considered Satryani’s desire to start the war, would have pinned her mother’s death on the duchess five years ago if the lady had acted. But why wait five years? Why wait at all?

He continued, "Anyhow. If you will not go to war with Nadraken, she will. Through you, if she must."

Anais shook her head. "Satryani." Her great-aunt was too long entrenched in the nobility to be removed or easily accused of wrongdoing. Exposing the legions as hers meant nothing—fantastic, she was helping with the war effort.

"Is that all?"

"Well…" He frowned. "It’s probably nothing, but she seems to have converted to whatever that religion is up north. She hasn’t been open about it, just references the Goddess in private."

What did the damn Goddess have to do with this? Was Delia involved?

"Thank you for the information, Damon. I am grateful, truly. And for this," she tapped the paper, "as well. My apologies for the way you were treated yesterday. It was harsh and unfair. You are an ally, and I should not have turned on you so quickly."

He laughed. "An apology! I woke this morning believing you’d skin me alive."

She pointed at him. "Don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind."

He offered an exaggerated and awkward bow from his seat. "Then I’m glad I’m of use, my lady. I do have a favor to ask."

"Go on."

"The remaining rebel factions—don’t attack them. I can persuade them to join instead."

"You haven’t yet."

"It takes time to run around the countryside. I am only one, single, poor peasant."

"Hardly. But very well. We’ll redirect the training raids to the borders." As favors went, it wasn’ta terribly onerous one to give. She’d expected him to ask for more freedoms and rights for the people, or at least for himself.

Damon inclined his head. "Wonderful. Thank you, my dear."

Easy. Too easy?

A minute after he left, Anais turned to the side. "Your thoughts?"

Thakris stepped out. "It’s true that the lady is worshiping Delia’s Goddess. Praying for longevity, victory, for you to come to your senses. She is in earnest. We don’t know why."

"And Damon?"

"Nothing. The most interesting thing he’s done is start a garden." Thakris sounded disgusted.

Anais suppressed a laugh. "Thank you, Escort."

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