Page 5 of The Infernal Battalion

“So,” she said, out of politeness. “How are things progressing?”

“Splendidly!” Strav laughed. “Just splendidly. All the lads are doing splendid work. And the lass, of course. Mustn’t forget her. She seems to work as hard as the rest of ’em put together. She’s a good girl, that one. Reminds me of my granddaughter, Vincent’s girl.” He paused. “Or was it Jaten’s? I lose track after I can’t count ’em on my fingers anymore, ha!”

“Wonderful,” Raesinia said smoothly. “I’ll just have a word with her about the figures, then.”

“Of course! She can come up with any figures you need. She’s a demon for ’em. Never known a girl who liked figurin’ so much.”

“Thank you, Count Strav.” Raesinia beckoned to her guards, and they escaped from the sweltering heat of the office. Their true destination was down the hall, but it wouldn’t have been polite to pay a call on the Treasury without at least a token visit to the minister.

The real heart of the ministry was a large, airy room that had once been a servants’ dining hall. It had been taken over to be the financial equivalent of a workshop. The walls were lined with bookshelves, piled high with thick, leather-​bound volumes and scrolls tied with colored ribbons. Several tables were set side by side, flanked by benches and almost completely covered with paper. The occupants of the room were nearly lost amid the clutter, a half dozen young men and women who looked like they’d had about a day of sleep in the last week among them. At the center was a girl of fifteen, her straw-​colored hair tied back into an unruly tail, her face a mass of freckles.

“Raes!” Cora squeaked, bounding to her feet. Then, seeing the looks she got from the other clerks, she cleared her throat and said, in more ordinary tones, “Your Highness, I mean. It’s an honor.”

Cora bowed, and the rest bowed with her. Raesinia nodded to them and grinned at Cora.

“I appreciate your hard work, all of you,” she said. “Cora, I wonder if we could speak privately?”

“Of course!” Cora extracted herself from her spot at the table, while the young woman next to her grabbed a stack of papers to keep it from toppling. Oblivious, Cora opened a door in the corner. “There’s room in here.”

The private space proved to be an old servant’s bedroom, with a cot in one corner and a desk in the other. More books were stacked in untidy piles on the floor.

Raesinia’s guards waited outside, and as soon as the door was closed she wrapped Cora in a hug.

“Sorry,” Cora said. “I’m still not good at remembering—​you know.” You know apparently meant the fact that her friend was now the Queen of Vordan.

“You’re improving,” Raesinia said. “And it’s only for everyone else’s benefit. In private you can always call me Raes.”

Of the original cabal—​the conspiracy that Raesinia had started against her own government and Duke Orlanko, which had helped to spark the revolution—​Cora was the only one who hadn’t died or betrayed her. Apart from Sothe, she was Raesinia’s oldest friend and one of the few who knew all her secrets.

She was also a financial genius. It had been Cora who’d parlayed the information Raesinia had brought from the palace into a fortune in the markets, then used that fortune to support the revolution. She’d engineered the run on the Second Pennysworth Bank that had given the supernatural orator Danton his first push, and later she’d helped Raesinia and Marcus expose Maurisk’s conspiracy by following the paper trail of missing flash powder.

As soon as she’d had the chance, Raesinia had installed her here, in the Ministry of Finance. She would have made Cora minister, but it seemed unlikely that the Deputies-​General would accept a fifteen-​year-​old girl, however brilliant, at the head of the nation’s finances. Count Strav was amiable, unambitious, and unlikely to interfere, so he made an acceptable figurehead, while Cora and a contingent recruited from the University did the actual business of righting the listing Vordanai ship.

“Raes.” Cora squeezed her again. “God. The back room of the Blue Mask feels like a hundred years ago, doesn’t it?”

“Longer,” Raesinia said.

She pulled away far enough to study Cora’s face. The girl had grown—​taller than Raesinia now and not quite as ravaged by acne as before—​but it was more than that. She’d been innocent when Raesinia had recruited her, and none of them were innocent now. There was a sadness in her dark green eyes that hadn’t been there before.

A moment of silence stretched, uncomfortably, until Raesinia cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you more often,” she said. “It’s been... chaotic since we got back.”

“You’re the queen, Raes. Of course you’re going to be busy.” Cora grinned, and just like that she was once again the bright, cocky girl Raesinia had first met. “How’s...?” She waved a hand vaguely. “The country, I guess?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Raesinia said. “Is your team working all right?”

Cora nodded enthusiastically. “They’re great. Especially Annabel. She’s terrifyingly bright. She’s from Murnsk—​did you know her parents didn’t even want her to learn to read? She had to run away from a caravan to get here. And—” Cora paused and coughed. “Sorry. I can introduce you later, if you’d like.”

“I would.” Raesinia couldn’t help but smile. Cora’s enthusiasm was infectious. “And Strav isn’t giving you any trouble?”

“As long as he gets to sign his name to the reports, he seems happy. And we send him around to the other ministries when they won’t listen to me.” Cora frowned. “It would help if we had a Minister of War. Someone needs to get the spending there under control.”

Raesinia sighed. “Tell that to the Deputies. God knows I have.”

“Anyway, we’re making some progress on taxes. Orlanko left us a mess, and I figured trying to go back to the old system right away would just cause more problems. So we’ve been working at the local level to try to get something people can live with. It’s slow work, but—” Cora stopped herself again. She really was getting better. “The details are all in my reports. We’re getting there.”

“So what’s the problem?” There’s always a problem.