“So,” he said, “Castor found himself a bad excuse to give his shipments a head start.”
Varian snorted as Finn nodded. Reagan held the urge to silence his cousin, reminding himself that he needed the man speaking freely.
Varian leaned back, one leg crossing over the other. “Highlanders, always pushing their luck. Might be time someone reminded them which side of the estate they’re on.”
Reagan’s thoughts flicked eagerly from Castor to Varian, sensing an opportunity. “What would you suggest I do?” he asked, ignoring Cerridwen’s pointed look.
Varian met his eyes, expression unchanged, though there was the hint of surprise there. “Remind them of their oath and what happens when stewards fail to keep their commitments.”
Every steward had sworn that oath, and the penalties for defiance were high. It was invoked mainly in matters of security, where the Lord’s word was final.
“So you think I should threaten them?” Reagan asked, tone mild.
Varian narrowed his eyes, arms folding across his chest. “Send the emissary to be diplomatic about it and share the consequences. And if that fails, make it clear you’re not asking.”
Reagan nodded as though weighing the idea. Cerridwen, evidently, found it intolerable enough to speak.
“Is this all the diplomacy you learned from Sable?” she asked coldly. The mention of Varian’s father soured the room. “If we approach it that way, we risk them closing that territory entirely over some fabricated maintenance excuse or whatever tale Castor can spin. We would jeopardise vital trade to the rest of Mountheim. We don’t need a conflict. We need to compromise.”
“Then you allow them to dictate what a Mage Lord should do,” Varian answered. “Soon they’ll be running their own regions like a pack of mindless wolves.” He shot Reagan a look of mock apology. “No offence meant.”
Reagan ignored him, raking a hand through his hair. “I can’t threaten them publicly,” he said. Publicly or privately, he wouldn’t. “But perhaps if someone were to speak with them…” He turned to Varian. “Perhaps you could…persuade them to reconsider.”
Finn’s brow twitched upward, the only sign of surprise he showed the moment Reagan glanced his way. “Are you sure?”
Reagan smirked faintly. He wasn’t that confident about the idea, but, if he was right about how events would unfold, it might give him the perfect outcome. He weighed the risks.
“You’ll go too,” he told Finn. “Keep Varian on a leash, will you?” He couldn’t be too obvious, or his cousin would sense a trap. He reclined sideways on the dreadful chair, the smirk still in place. “If Varian can persuade them to withdraw the toll, perhaps he’ll prove he isactuallyuseful to us. Then my people might forget what they saw at the last Rite. The jealous cousin who wished he had my larger cock.”
Cerridwen stifled a noise while Finn joined with his own smirk. Varian studied him closely, searching his face for tells.
“If you think that would help,” Varian said, calm and wary, accepting his first task.
Reagan couldn’t help but wonder whether this would be a successful first move to bury his cousin, or whether he’d just invited a viper deeper into his land.
Chapter 20
Jane
Varian’s face loomed over me. Someone’s boots were near my head. Floorboards creaked beneath the weight of the Scions as they approached. The white-haired one among them.
Blinding pain split my middle, tearing the earth open beneath me. Wind howled at my back as I was dragged into darkness. Down and down and down.
And when the world stilled, I was no longer there.
Cold stone beneath my palms. Cobbles. A piercing light. An endless road crowded with faceless people, windows, buildings. A sage-green sign surfaced ahead, its gold lettering shining.
Goldsworth.
A blow struck my back, and I fell—
“Miss Darling?” someone called.
Something hard was pressed into my back, and though my eyes remained closed, I knew I was sitting. The room rolled slowly around me, still spinning.
“Miss Darling, can you hear me?” Laerune’s voice broke through the haze. “Perhaps we should take her to the infirmary.”
“I’m all right,” I murmured, clearing my throat with a weak cough.
