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“My turn,” Lorelei announced, and smiled dangerously as she leaned towards him. “What do you really think of our dear little Otto as your emperor?”
“I … think he deserves my allegiance.” It was the truth; the bargain surely couldn’t question that. But its eerie, invisible force tugged once more at his skin, raising goose bumps and the fine hairs on his wrists once more; in other words, his answer hadn’t gone deep enough to suffice. Breathing deeply, Gerard added with firm conviction, “He is my emperor by right of law, as sanctified by the Imperial high priest.”
“That sweet, pacifistic old man he just had arrested for so-called corruption and treason, you mean?” Lorelei’s voice was perilously dry. “Or were you referring to the new Imperial high priestess Otto appointed from his own family so the Empire wouldn’t have any mitigating counterforce to stand against him any longer?”
Thank Jovar, the bargain required no answer to that second question. Instead, with finality, Gerard said, “I swore vows of loyalty.”
The shock and horror that he’d felt at High Priest Bohdan’s arrest would not soon subside, but he knew—he was certain—that the Emperor could be persuaded into leniency with the man’s final sentence, if only for the sake of appeasing general opinion. It was one of the many reasons Gerard had to return to Fiora soon—to make that argument and hold to it long enough to shape Otto’s fluctuating opinions.
“Hmph.” Lorelei narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, if you can’t share your true feelings about him, you had better take a sip of wine.”
The bargain plucked at him even harder in agreement. Resigned, Gerard picked up the jug that she had set down between them and raised it to his lips. The sparkling, effervescent concoction lit up his senses like fireworks as he swallowed.
No wonder Lorelei had flushed when she’d drunk it! He had taken the smallest possible sip, but even so, as he returned the jug to the ground, Gerard’s cheeks prickled with a new, much-too-pleasurable warmth. This was no ordinary, mortal wine … and this game might well prove to be more perilous than he’d realized.
Still, her question led to the one he’d been wanting—and fearing—to ask ever since their argument earlier that day.
Could he bear the answer?
Bracing himself, Gerard said, “Do you really believe that Otto is a secret supporter of the Purifiers, or was that only a ruse?”
The fae bargain wouldn’t allow Lorelei to lie; of that much, he was certain. Still, he half expected her to scoop up the jug once more, only to torment him with uncertainty.
Instead, she let out a sigh that sounded genuinely weary. “Darling, if it were up to me, I’d never give those pathetic would-be villains another thought—but Ailana’s spies report that he’s met secretly, many times now, with a whole assortment of Purifiers, including their leader, that foul Feodor Rapenthe. No one knows, yet, exactly which promises have been made, but Ailana is certain that Otto’s planning to use their cause as his banner and rationale to conquer the rest of the continent, just as he’s been yearning to do all along.”
Hoping to conquer the full continent—that much, Gerard could not deny. It had been Otto’s most passionately expressed dream for as long as Gerard had been a member of the Emperor’s rarefied private council. As far as he knew, though, Otto didn’t have any higher rationale but the goal of reclaiming all the lands of the legendary first Serafin Empire, which had ruled uncontested for nearly a thousand years before its destruction five centuries ago. Otto’s grandfather and namesake, Otto I, had formed the new, less-all-encompassing Serafin Empire in its memory, and Otto II had grown up with the firm conviction that it was divinely ordained for him to finish the job … regardless of all the innocents who would be killed in that expansion for no reason but his own personal glory.
Still, Otto had never once claimed in any council meetings, not even the most private, to have any specks of fondness for the extremist bigots who screamed about “Purification” and drunkenly assaulted harmless nonhumans at any opportunity.
“Ailana is certain,” Gerard repeated carefully. “So, in other words, you’re basing your conviction on the Queen of Nornne’s spy network and her claims.”
It was a second question, uncompelled by their bargain, but Lorelei answered anyway. “I would trust Ailana with my life.”
The bargain might not judge this answer, but Gerard didn’t need magical confirmation to believe the loyalty that rang through it. It was the same strong, protective emotion she’d shown to both of her fellow Queens of Villainy at the border of Kitvaria, days ago. Back then, it had startled him and seemed uncharacteristic, but he was coming to understand that it was just as essential a part of her nature as her incorrigible mischief.
Like him, Lorelei kept most of her true feelings buried in public most of the time. Her own outer façade might be the opposite of his, but underneath …
What actually hid beneath that mask of frivolity felt unsettlingly— compellingly—irresistible.
“My turn,” she said. “If you believed me about Otto’s plans, would you listen to your conscience and abandon your post to fight against the Empire?”
Gerard’s breath stopped as his vision whited out.
He was back at the military academy again, covered in bruises and walking into the dining hall under the gaze of all the other students.
“Little traitor…”
“There’s the traitors’ son…”
“Bad blood runs true…”
“Did your parents wail like cowards while you watched?”
“Gerard?” Lorelei’s voice broke through. “Are you unwell?”
If only the bargain would accept that question as the one he had to answer!
Gerard swallowed hard and met her gaze as panic roiled sickeningly within his gut. “I would never willingly abandon my post,” he said, “but I will listen to my conscience.”
