Page 71 of The Court of Venus

All along, he’d been the king’s instrument. I’d felt slighted when Prospero sent me away to the Staffords, but what if he’d spared me instead?

When I leaned my head against Roland’s shoulder, a low, contented sound rose from his throat. He wrapped his arms around me, pulled me closer. Had we ever touched like this, even as children? No. I would have remembered if we had.

“We are not only devices,” I said against his chest. “We are not only for kings to spin, to learn how they will achieve greatness.”

He glanced down, mouth twitching. His breath stirred my hair. “I have taken lovers simply because I wanted them, you know. The king doesn’t dictate everything I do. And it is easy to see why my acclaim persists. I am, by all accounts, irresistible, chivalrous—”

“Beautiful,” I added, as a guess.

“Beautiful?” He fought against a grin and lost, tucking it into my hair. “Beautiful. Really? Tell me more.”

“I have eyes. I am not saying this partially. I am describing you the way I would—” I pushed out of his embrace and glanced around. “A flower. A statue. Haven’t you been called beautiful your entire life?”

“I’ve never heard it from you.”

“Why must you hear it from me?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Because I value your opinion. There are only a few whose judgment I truly care for, and I think yours is often correct. Most of the time.” He shrugged. “There are many councilors who will heed a loud voice over someone quiet and watchful. I know better.”

“I value your opinion, too,” I said shyly. “Most of the time.”

“We have made strides, haven’t we?”

I composed myself by fiddling with my sleeves. He tracked the motion and made a face, but said nothing of it. “May we discuss Kitty Seton now?” I asked.

“Oh, yes. I’d nearly forgotten. Who did she accuse? I know she accused somebody.”

The subtle accusation lingered still. The name she’d planted so skillfully. “Prospero.”

“Whatever she implied, forget it. She was born under the Scorpion. Her barbs are sharp and for her protection alone.”

“I don’t put much faith in charts anymore. Hal’s was wrong.” I looked up. Through the mist, to the dim constellations, the sky that had blessed us. This morning, Roland’s eyes were just as luminous as Venus—his power stoked and fed by its glow.

“No,” he argued. “We were wrong in our interpretation of it.”

“If we know the future,” I countered, “we won’t react the same way when we’re confronted by it.”

A snort. “Did Prospero tell you that?”

“I told myself that.”

“Yes, along with—what was it? It was so lovely, I shall never forget it. I’d like to carve everything you say into stone. ‘We are not only devices,’” he recited. “‘We are not only—’”

I elbowed his side. Though I’d lent no strength to it, he still mouthed “Ow.”

“Kitty was telling the truth. Prospero and Hal argued the night before Hal’s death.”

Roland frowned. “Hal didn’t want to marry the Bastian princess. I don’t know what else that could have been about.”

“And that’s why I’m convinced Prospero wouldn’t have plotted against Hal. He wanted that alliance desperately. Hal was the key to it. Yet—it is strange. I wonder when Prospero started researching exaltation. If Hal knew what Prospero was up to before he died, or if it all began after Hal was gone.”

He cocked his head. “Whatever do you mean?”

“If his father lived forever, Hal would never be king. Do you think he would have been very happy about that?”

Roland only made an affirming sound, but inside of him, glowing faintly, was admiration. “I need the privy council’s blessing to travel to Lionesse. We’ll hold a meeting at noon. You’ll come?”

“The council room is Saturn-barred. It only allows councilors through. I haven’t said the king’s oath.”