Page 82 of Ren: Warlord Brides
She clenched her hands into fists, her nails digging into the palms. Keeping her trap shut was a lot harder in practice than in theory.
“Has the Council member informed you of the circumstances of Ms. LeBeaux leaving? Did she tell you she was intoxicated and lost Ms. LeBeaux’s work contract in a card game?” Nakia asked.
“No, she—”
She continued speaking over the guard, which made the petty part of Emry’s soul do a happy dance. “Which I do not need to mention violates about a dozen labor laws and standards. In addition to this gross abuse of labor by a sitting member of the Sangrin Council, my client was given five minutes to pack her belongings before leaving with a stranger.”
“Dovak is not a stranger. He is a trusted business associate,” Pashaal protested.
“Did you know Mr. Dovak, Emmarae?” Nakia asked her.
“He had dinner with Pashaal once before, but no. I did not know him,” Emry answered.
“There you are,” Nakia said. “A stranger, who could have had any nefarious purpose—”
“Nefarious! How dare you,” Pashaal blustered.
“Please stop interrupting me or I will add witness intimidation to my list of complaints, Councilor,” Nakia said. “As I was saying, my client was stressed and concerned for safety, not just her job. It is perfectly understandable that the borrowed necklace slipped her mind. Isn’t that right, Ms. LeBeaux?”
Emry nodded. It took her half a second to realize that the lawyer could not see her gesture and needed to hear her. “Um, yes. That’s correct. I had a lot on my mind.”
Understatement.
“The necklace was recovered. The charges should be dropped,” Nakia said.
“The obsidian jewel is gone!” Pashaal slammed a hand against the table. “She sold it!”
“I don’t know what happened to it,” Emry protested. “I barely remember taking it off. I was so tired that night that I crawled into the wrong bed.”
A sharp look crossed Nakia’s face. Despite the flickering light of the projection, Emry understood she was meant to keep her mouth shut.
“Right. Keep silent. Forgot,” she muttered.
“The necklace was left in the care of my client. The necklace is damaged. That is an irrefutable fact,” she said, though Emry honestly thought Nakia could refute the facts if it suited her purpose. “My client will pay for a replacement stone.”
“My necklace was priceless,” Pashaal said. “My Kullar gave it to me.”
“Priceless? Was it of cultural or historical significance? A rare or high-quality example of a cut obsidian stone? Crafted by a famous artist?”
“No, it’s—”
“The raw materials exceptionally valuable?” Nakia barely paused before she answered the rhetorical question. “If you look closely, you can see the silver plating worn away at the clasps. That necklace is inexpensive, and the missing stone only cut glass.”
Pashaal’s mouth opened and closed, working like a fish. Was Emry gloating? A little. An appropriate amount of gloating. Eventually, Pashaal found her voice and said, “It has emotional significance.”
“Yes, emotionally priceless, but not without monetary value, you’ll find. I think the insured replacement value would be fair compensation.”
Pashaal glanced at the guard, as if he could help. “It was not insured.”
A sharp grin broke over Nakia’s face, and Emry knew they had the upper hand. Tension unwound in her chest, and she allowed herself to enjoy the way Pashaal huffed and kept adjusting the collar on her robe. Okay, it was gloating. She gloated. Just a little.
“Not insured. My. How unusual for apricelessitem,” she said, making air quotes. “Fair market price for the cost of replacing the cut glass jewel.”
“I don’t want a replacement. I want the original,” Pashaal protested. “She took it. She knows where it is!”
“I don’t know what happened to it. I wish I did. I really do,” Emry said.
“Again, Ms. LeBeaux, exercise your right to remain silent,” Nakia snapped. She turned her attention back to Pashaal. “We’ll pay for a replacement, nothing more. Thismediationis over, and you will not contact my client again unless you want to explain to the labor board how you trade contracted employees like chattel.”
