Page 3 of The Stygian Crown
Kara sighed. “And is Lady Celine real?”
“No, but Robert Grey, the Lord of Briarcliff, is, and he’s in hot water with King Calim. He doesn’t come to court often, and his estate is remote enough that people shouldn’t be too suspicious at your sudden appearance. I’ll leave it to you if you want to be public about being marked or not. This is Lerathil, so everyone’s got a Namirahn somewhere in the family tree. You’ll find judgmental assholes all over Teleria, but by and large you wouldn’t be scorned for it.”
What would it be like to not be judged for her curse? She’d had a taste of that with Logan and the Brotherhood, but now she was wearing a mask again. Kara donned the undergarments and stepped into the dress, unused to the feel of such soft fabric against her skin. She pulled it up and pushed her arms through the sleeves, then turned so Serena could help her lace up the corset and gown.
Serena tackled the laces with deft fingers. “You’ll have a lady’s maid to help you with this most of the time. You can reach her with the bell-pull by the bed.”
“I don’t need a maid in my business when I’m trying to spy.”
“Well I have duties other than lacing up your dresses,” Serena said, yanking the laces taut. “And unless you learned to do your hair like a Countess’s daughter from Philipe Galois, you’re going to need her.”
Serena finished lacing her up, and Kara pinned her hair up in a simple twist. Countess’s daughter or not, it would have to do for now.
Serena took a step back and looked her over. “You clean up nice, McKenna. Calim is going to eat his teeth.”
Kara slid on a pair of ivory slippers and followed Serena back to the first floor, then down several sidehalls. Serena navigated the labyrinthine palace with confidence, but Kara was beginning to doubt her ability to find her way back to her room without getting turned around.
They entered a room behind a tall set of double doors, and Kara sucked in a breath. Bookshelves lined the room, stretching two stories high. Rolling ladders rested against the bookshelves, and several spiral staircases led to a floating walkway that bordered the second level of books. Fae lanterns bobbed along the second-floor banister, teasing passerby to peek over the edge.
Against the far walls, three enormous hearths blazed with glowing green fire, like the cavernous maws of some many-mouthed beast.
“Spellfires. So the smoke won’t damage the books and there’s no chance of an actual fire spreading.” Serena locked the library doors behind them. “There are reading rooms here, if you ever need a break. Though they’re mainly used for illicit rendezvous. Come, the king awaits.”
Kara followed Serena’s gaze to the library’s sole occupant. A man reclined in a plush leather chair, a book in his hands and reading glasses halfway down his nose. He wore an unassuming doublet in royal blue and black breeches tucked into tall boots. A plate of half-eaten lemon cookies sat on the end table beside him. He wore no circlet or crown, though Kara supposed she would not want to wear a crown all the time either, were she queen.
Kara approached him and executed one of the slow, graceful curtsies Philipe had trained her to do by making her balance a book on her head. “Your highness.”
The king glanced up at her and recoiled, dropping his book in his lap. Then he shook his head and met her eyes again, closing the cover with trembling fingers. “Apologies. You look a lot like someone I know.”
The king’s close-cropped brown hair was greying at the temples, his eyes a warm chocolate color. The lack of royal seals or jewelry on his person, not even a ring, surprised Kara. Was he as humble as his wardrobe?
Calim motioned for her to rise. “You must be Vakarian’s girl.” He had the crisp consonants and polished accent of an aristocrat.
Kara tried not to let her annoyance show on her face. “I’m my own person.”
Had his lips twitched at that?
“Of course, forgive me. Where are you from, again? I won’t ask your name—best to forget it ever existed while you’re here.”
“The Balmoran Mountains.”
Calim took off his reading glasses and cleaned them with his sleeve, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Interesting. You don’t look like mountain stock.”
“I was adopted.”
Calim’s eyes flickered to Serena, then settled on Kara’s face, analyzing. “Impressive, seeker. I could almost believe we were related.”
Serena smirked, settling onto the couch across from Calim and crossing her legs. Kara was unsure if it’d be rude to sit in his presence, but Calim gestured for her to take the chair next to him.
“What’s your education like? Vakarian didn’t give me much to go on.”
Best not to tell him a soldier turned farrier had homeschooled her. Kara shrugged. “Just a village school in the north. I can read and write and do sums, but they rarely got philosophical. Philipe Galois of Travincal taught me etiquette and dancing, though. I can blend in in the ballroom.”
“Well, you came highly recommended. Vakarian doesn’t give praise lightly, and I trust him and Serena. Shall we talk business?”
Kara nodded. “I’d like to discuss my pay.” She needed the money to come to her, not the Stygians, since she wasn’t sure how quickly the dustup over her breaking Wesley out of their safehouse would settle once they returned.
Calim broke into a grin. “Of course. A mercenary’s favorite topic. You’ll be generously compensated for every week you remain in my employ. There will be bonuses for any information you bring me that proves useful in identifying the Sanguine sympathizers. Find out which nobles are in their pockets. Since it’s a Stygian contract, will you be giving Vakarian his cut? Or do I need to set it aside for him?”
