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Sana’a blinked, and then her breath hitched as she fought back an unexpected rush of tears.
She shut her eyes tight, only flinging them open when she’d composed herself.
She found Mirage’s gaze on her, compassion warming its jade depths.
‘I’ve an oath to complete,’ Sana’a whispered, leaning in, her silver eyes flashing. ‘My cause gives me most of my meaning and reason for existence. I would never make a mistake.’
‘But you did.’
The Shotelai woman gritted her teeth. ‘It was him. The King.’
‘Nada, the monarch you seek is long dead. The man you tangled with tonight is the current Katánian Král-In-Waiting. The Consort not yet on the throne.’
Sana’a blanched in shock. ‘If it’s not that arrogant royal outside on the terrace, then who was it?’
Mirage flicked a finger toward Sana’a’s wrist tab, which turned on its shimmering screen.
Sana’a shook her head at the blatant hack and chose to ignore it. ‘What am I looking at?’
‘That is the woman you’re after, the co-conspirator of the dearly departed King of Katáne.’
Sana’a stared at the holo, which depicted a sharp-faced, birdlike woman with cold, dark, and small eyes and the slash of a lip set within a pale face. Above her bare skull was an impressive krest of feathers.
Mirage leaned back, blowing a puff of smoke. ‘Her name is Kalila Khensu. She is a noblewoman, a hawk mother of the most influential eyrie in Katáne. She is the sister of the Kíríga, the now-dead king who plotted the betrayal of the Shotelai. Along with the Drákons of Isato and Tsu Zatan, monarch of the Zatan Moon Kingdom, whom we believe you’ve taken care of already. She is also the great-aunt of the man you just tried to murder. Who, as I said, had nothing to do with your family’s or planet’s demise.’
Sana’a fell against the seat, awareness hitting home, further cementing her SHärd blades’ perception. ‘You’re saying I had the wrong mark.’
‘You did. It was a close call. Had you even attempted your plan, you wouldn’t have survived. ‘Specially if your blade had nicked even a sliver of blood from his body.’
‘You don’t know how fast my swords can move. I’d have gotten away.’
‘Yet he unhanded you with his words alone,’ Mirage shrugged. ‘And it’s not him who’d have torn you to pieces; it’s his guards, the zero fokks-giving pair of Imperial Klós eagles he has shadowing him. Even so, you’d still have dealt with the Sable Riders’ collective wrath.’
Sana’a eyes flared with emotion. ‘Why so? What do they have to do with the Katánian?’
Mirage smiled wryly and leaned in, dropping her voice. ‘Not many are aware of this, but Killen, the Král-In-Waiting, is the son of Riv Sable. As you’re well aware, The Sable Group takes no prisoners when it comes to protecting their own.’
Sana’a lost her breath as if someone had punched her guts. ‘I’d no idea.’
‘There’s much you don’t seem to be across. Perhaps your rage for justice is clouding your judgment. Or could it be because your mother is ailing, and you feel the need to rush your revenge so she witnesses it before she worsens?’
Sana’a bucked once more. Leaning over the table, she hissed, ‘How do you fokkin’ know all this? Is this an attempt at blackmail?’
Mirage shook her head. ‘It is not my intention to cause you angst. However, the Sable Group needs you, in what we hope will be a win-win situation for everyone.’
‘Fokk, fokk, fokk!’ Sana’a cursed.
‘Temper, temper.’
‘I’m nae cursing you,’ the Shotelai woman clarified, huffing her breath out in frustration. ‘Just the shit-stained affair I now find myself in.’
‘De nada, no apology needed,’ Mirage commented. ‘You’re always free to speak your mind and profane your lungs out with me. I can handle it.’
Sana’a took a shaky inhale, taking a moment to calm her ire.
She slumped to the back of her seat.
‘What’s on the table?’ Her voice was drawn out, weary.
