“Don’t think I’ve lost my head,” Imrik says. “The agreement is limited, and we’ll gain as much as they will, if not more.”
“What could they possibly have offered?” Vana asks.
Imrik takes up his goblet again. “You’ll see soon enough. We are beset on all sides, Vana. But I feel at ease knowing I have a son like you. I’ve never felt more secure in my legacy.”
Once, that acknowledgement might have reassured Vana. He used to treasure every indirect hint that Imrik might name him crown prince. Now, Vana rides a wave of hurt and indignation. Is this hint supposed to be Vana’s reward for killing a man five days ago?
Holding his tongue would be prudent. Vana turns just enough to catch Daromir’s eyes boring into him. He disregards the warning and says, “Yet you still test me, Father.”
Imrik tenses, then laughs. “You truly are a Dire. I suppose I didn’t need to make you prove that on the Dais of Judgment.” He squeezes Vana’s shoulder in a rare show of affection. “I’m sorry for that.”
Nothing could have knocked Vana more off-balance than an apology from Imrik Dire.
They’re both saved from responding by voices at the door—the rest of the family arriving. Imrik downs the rest of his zalvin. “Don’t tell anyone else I apologized. Her Majesty will never let me hear the end of it.”
As servants, drasgard, and family enter, Vana has a moment to retreat to Daromir’s side. Vana doesn’t touch him, as much as he wants to, just leans close enough to catch Daromir whispering exactly what Vana is thinking: “What the fuck?”
“He’s planning something,” Vana mutters. “I don’t like this.”
Then Marek calls out to him in boisterous greeting, and Vana tears himself away from Daromir’s side to sit down with House Dire.
This is his family, though Vana feels far more distant to them than he does to the man standing with the rest of the servants.
Conversation revolves around Marek’s work with Loska up north, giving Vana unwanted freedom to indulge his maudlin thoughts. Imrik has never shown so much genuine emotion before, damn him. Vana suspects itisn’tgenuine. He just doesn’t know what Imrik’s purpose is. Soothing Vana after the execution?
Genuine feeling is rare in House Dire. Perhaps some of that is Vana’s own fault. He hasn’t been much of a brother to Marek and Kazia. They’ve never been close, but Vana has never truly tried. Even though he and Marek are friendly, Vana can’t forget that Marek is his chief competition for the throne.
As for Kazia, the young Dire prince was only three years old when Vana was adopted. A toddler and teenager didn’t have much in common, and Vana was caught up in his own pain. Plus, Aliza was overprotective. By the time Kazia was old enough to move into his own quarters, he was spoiled, willful, and dangerously capricious.
And he wanted nothing to do with Marek or Vana.
“Oh, Kazia,” Aliza says suddenly. “I forgot to mention, Lord Radovan spoke to me yesterday. Or last week. Perhaps it was last week.”
Kazia straightens attentively in his chair. “Did he spill rat piss on his robes again? That was very entertaining.”
Marek disguises his laugh as a cough when Aliza glances at him.
“Radovan said his scorpion moths went missing,” Aliza says. “Around the time you were hanging out in his laboratory.”
Vana’s attention sharpens.
Kazia puts a delicate hand to his chest. “Is he accusing me of taking them, Mother? I know not to touch his precious experiments.”
Kazia’s acting isn’t subtle. Aliza may be the only person in the world who would fall for his innocent act. “I didn’t think you would,” she says. “Just be careful not to hang around in the laboratory unattended. Radovan’s experiments are dangerous. I know the moths were pretty, but you could be seriously hurt if you tried to touch them.”
After a second’s pause, Kazia smiles sweetly. “Thank you for your concern, Mother.”
Across the table, Marek rolls his eyes. Vana takes a sip of his own wine to cover his racing thoughts.
He had almost forgotten the scorpion moth in the scroll case. So much else has happened since then, everything far more urgent. The illusionist assassin. Petir Bernek’s erratic behavior. The changing bloodbond. Meeting Arla. Too many disparate elements Vana hasn’t been able to place into a pattern yet. Are they all separate? Or are they all related?
Now that Aliza’s attention has returned to Marek, Kazia’s smile drops into expressionless silence. How does he fit into this?
Kazia hasn’t followed up on his demand for Sabora yet. Is this a play for the throne? Kazia would have to do far more than simply kill Vana and Marek for that. Imrik indulges Kazia’s tantrums, giving severance bonuses to fired guards and compensating nobles for ruined property. But Imrik isn’t blind like Aliza. While Vana dislikes Imrik, he doesn’t doubt the man’s concern for his legacy.
If Kazia took the scorpion moths, did he send them to Vana? Or did someone else take the moths from Kazia? This information is a start, at least. It confirms Radovandidhave scorpion moths. It’s far more than Vana had before.
A clink of metal interrupts Vana’s thoughts as Imrik Dire sets his fork down. The noise draws everyone’s attention. Imrik gestures for a servant to refill his wine, then looks around at his sons and wife.
