Page 23 of The Rebel's Prize

The seer's eyes sharpened at that. "To bring those who are trying to promulgate this wickedness to justice, I will gladly put up with a little unorthodox magic."

"I'm glad to hear it. And may we succeed in bringing our enemies down, by heathen means or otherwise. The goddess will approve either way."

Silya nodded. "It will be balance."

She looked, Chloe thought, a little more comfortable inside, the color in her face having faded back from overheated-looking to merely warm. The interior of the wagon was pleasantly cool, though she could feel the heat on the canvas walls. Whoever had set the cooling charm did good work.

"So, what exactly is the plan?" Chloe asked, settling back against the bench.

Lucien shrugged. "The caravans communicate as they travel, so our plan is to proceed forward on the route and send out feelers to see if there is any mention of a woman fitting Deandra's description. At the same time, we have other feelers out to look for this theater troupe."

"And if we receive word that someone has found either her or the troupe?"

"That depends somewhat where they are. If they're on a route and we'll get there in a reasonable time, I guess we'll continue with the caravan. But if not, then we can proceed through portals or, if greater speed is needed, through other methods.”

"A navire would hardly be discreet, if that's what you mean."

Lucien shrugged. "I agree. I'm sure they'll be wary of Imperial troops, but then again, perhaps they think they have carried out their attack without being identified and are retreating somewhere to form their next plan. They must have learned by now that their efforts in Lumia were not successful." He frowned at her. "Another reason for them to dislike you. I hope I don't need to tell you that you need to be careful if we do find them."

"I wasn't planning on challenging Deandra to a duel or storming their lair, if that's what you mean."

"Good. Though I expect we will need to be patient. If they have any brains between them—and given the nature of their plots, we have to assume they do—then they'll be lying low."

Yes, lying low made sense. And seemed to be something Deandra was good at. "That seems reasonable."

Lucien's mouth quirked slightly. "I'm glad you approve, my lady," he said. "Of course, you should feel free to share your own plans if you think they could improve on ours."

She was hardly going to admit to him that she hadn't entirely formed a plan. "Yours sounds similar. Find Deandra or the theater troupe, then decide the next course of action. But she—or they—are our best chance." She turned back to Silya. "Unless something has come of the poison, of course. The asphenyet that Irina thought came from Andalyssia." Poison carried by the man who'd stabbed Rianne after trying to kill Lady Margaretta. He was the reason they had learned about facial illusions, but he’d died before he could provide them with any actual answers. "Did you have time to look at it before my husband dragged you from the capital?"

Silya nodded slowly. "Yes. Irina...no, forgive me,Her Gracewas correct in her assessment. It was asphenyet. I have sent word back to Deephilm to check on everyone who has ever grown, sold, or prepared this herb. Those we know of. Asphenyet is closely controlled. If someone has been selling to outlanders, then that is something that must be stopped."

She looked genuinely indignant at the thought. Did she truly think that no Andalyssian had ever sold poisons beyond Andalyssia before? Or was she annoyed that she didn't know about it already if they did? Hardly a question Chloe could ask her outright.

"I think we all agree on that," Chloe said. "And if we have no new information on that topic, then our current course seems best."

Lucien's mouth quirked, but he didn't argue. Silence descended over the carriage again. Apparently, he was done with the discussion. And as much as Chloe was interested in learning more about Andalyssian purchases, pursuing that subject right now didn't seem like the best way to build trust with Silya. She might view it as interrogation rather than curiosity.

Which left her wondering what shecouldsay to Silya.

"Irina must have been pleased to see some faces from home," she said, trying to be diplomatic. The last thing Irina wanted was to return to Andalyssia. She’d made that clear when she'd chosen to marry Valentin to secure her position in Lumia.

Silya lifted a brow, as though surprised that Irina would be Chloe's choice of topic. "One of her uncles was in the contingent. I believe he brought her messages from her sister and her father, but of course, the news of her marriage may have altered any plans those contained." Her icy eyes pinned Chloe. "That was neatly done, my lady."

Chloe shook her head, holding up her hands. "Believe me, Sejerin, I had nothing to do with that one. That was all the duq. Did you meet him?"

Aristides would not have let Valentin and Irina avoid the Andalyssians. Valentin had married her to grant her the protection of his title. As a duquesse of Illvya, she no longer had to fear being dragged home against her will. The emperor would have expected them to act as though they were secure in their positions and tell her family the news themselves.

"Yes, at the temple," Sejerin said. "Domina Francis explained he is quite the healer."

"Yes," Chloe agreed, "which I think was why he was happy to help Irina. It seems she has the potential to be quite the healer as well."

"She could be a healer in Andalyssia," Silya said.

Chloe shrugged. "Yes, but not in the same way as she can in Illvya. And if she feels that the goddess has called her to use her magic in this way, then really, who are either of us to gainsay that?"

Silya's mouth flattened briefly. "It is a difficult choice she has made to cut herself off from family and House."

"Will they disown her, then?" Chloe asked. "After all, a duq is not such a bad husband for a younger daughter of a Great House."

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