“Should we talk somewhere more private?” Lucien asks, setting the book down. Lurid Fellrian poetry, apparently.
“No need,” Kazia says, without looking up. “Sit down.”
Kazia sits cross-legged on the table, surrounded by open books. A quill and inkwell nestle precariously beneath his knee. Butterfly explores everything, and Kazia nudges him every time he tries to eat paper.
Kazia’s hair is up today, the long tail brushing his neck with every movement. Dressed in black as usual, he looks more remote than ever. No sign of last night’s panic—but from what Lucien’s learned, Kazia has a knack for masks.
Lucien pulls out a chair and sits. The key-token burns in his pocket. They both know Lucien’s magic is unchained. It’s no wonder Kazia wants to be somewhere public.
It’ll complicate the treasonous scheming, though.
Kazia sighs and produces a strip of parchment edged in silver leaf. He rips it two, then crumples the pieces for Butterfly to play with. “Quiet talisman.”
Effective—but far more expensive than a private room, like most people use for scheming. “How many of those do you have?”
“We have an hour,” Kazia says. “Talk strategy.”
“First, I have to know what I’m working with,” Lucien says. “What resources and allies do you already have?”
Kazia doesn’t hesitate. He wouldn’t have come to this meeting if he didn’t want to talk. “Twenty-three members of my household are loyal to me, not my parents. Sixteen of those are trained soldiers, and four of the soldiers are minor mages.”
Small numbers, but Lucien is surprised there are so many. Kazia’s trust is sparingly given. Then again, Kazia inspires loyalty far more easily than Lucien imagined.
“I know it’s not much,” Kazia says. “I have a few noble allies, and I also have a lot of money.”
“How much money?”
“A lot.” Kazia toys with the tail of his hair. “Vana gave me one of the wealthiest southern estates when he left. I’ve been embezzling it for the past six months.”
He says it so matter-of-factly, twisting a strand of hair around his finger, but embezzling isn’t a simple crime. Not when it’s done well, at least. It requires far more careful planning than the impulsive tantrums Kazia is known for.
And suddenly, Lucien wants to replace Kazia’s hand with his own, so he can play with Kazia’s hair instead.
Stunned, he stares for so long that Kazia frowns. “What?”
Lucien swallows. Since when did he have an embezzlement kink? This isnotthe time to realize how attractive Kazia is. “That’s clever of you.”
Kazia seems surprised by the compliment. He picks Butterfly off a book and hides a treat under a piece of parchment.
Of course, Kazia has been attractive this entire time. All sharp edges and energy, anger and quiet. But Lucien hasn’t beenattractedto him, he’s pretty sure. That would be insane. An abuse of power—though Lucien isn’t sure on whose part.
“Who are your allies?” Lucien asks, because he needs not to think about the delicate edge of Kazia’s jaw.
“House Bernek, half of House Komar, and House Gabra.”
“Gabra?” That’s a surprise. Lucien fought General Gabra in the last war, and she nearly killed him a few times. Not as quick as Rakos, but ruthless. “Impressive. How much did she cost you?”
That wasn’t supposed to be a trick question, but Kazia lowers his eyes.
“That much?” Lucien asks.
“She thinks she owes me a favor.” Kazia removes the sheet of parchment, which Butterfly has failed to knock off the treat. “Gabra offended Imrik last year, and I diverted his anger. But she doesn’t know the harm I’ve already done to her. I can never make up for it.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Lucien says, even though he wants to know everything about Kazia.
“You already know more than enough to kill me.” Kazia scoots back and stretches his legs out. His boots come close tothe ancient books. “When I was fourteen, I poisoned General Gabra. She didn’t die. She just got very sick, and the blood healers weren’t able to fix her all the way. The weakness lingered.”
Well, that would explain Gabra’s sudden retirement. “Why did you poison her?”
