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“Should she lose him to Anthony, it will be a defeat on her own soil in front of her colleagues. Such a loss could damage the prestige she needs to lead in the war. And if she wins…” He took a deep breath he didn’t need. “She knows we need to be strong at this juncture, but she fears that some of us may be becoming too much so.”
Mircea had been wiping my face with his pocket handkerchief, but at that, he looked up. “She is suspicious of my loyalty?”
“Ambition has blinded better men.”
“And more foolish ones. I have no plans to challenge her authority.”
“P
erhaps not now. But with the Pythia under your control—”
“She is under the Senate’s control.” He paused. “More or less.”
“She is under your control, Mircea,” Marlowe insisted. “Her loyalty is to you. She is suspicious of the consul—”
“With reason. That stunt with Tomas was ill-conceived. I warned her as much at the time.”
“You suggested using him!”
“Using, not abusing, Kit. I never suggested butchering the man! That backfired, as anyone who knows Cassie’s temperament should have expected.”
“But we do not know it. You do. And you were strong enough before. Now, you have control of the Pythia as well as Louis-Cesare’s loyalty through his attachment to Dorina—”
“And how did she find out about that? What did you tell her, Kit?”
“Only what she asked. She’d already heard as much from Anthony. He thinks it’s the best joke this century.”
“Anthony is not you! You could have denied it.”
“I could have betrayed my duty, you mean, in order to save this—”
“Careful.”
“Mircea, what the hell is wrong with you? I’m beginning to think that damned geis addled your brain!”
“Or cleared it.”
I lay utterly still, content to let them believe I was more or less out of it. Which wasn’t far from the truth. Between the general oppressiveness of the house and the consul’s idea of a good time, I was a little under the weather. The room kept shimmying like a belly dancer every time I opened my eyes, so I mostly didn’t.
I didn’t understand a lot of the conversation, but the basic idea came across. Mircea was growing powerful enough that the consul was starting to worry about him. And given the way she handled problems, I didn’t think that was too healthy.
Apparently, Mircea didn’t, either. “She truly thinks I would move against her?”
“She wonders if one with so much power will be content to serve for the rest of his life,” Marlowe said.
“I am content to live, Kit. Perhaps it is something you have forgotten how to do.”
“You are making no sense.” Marlowe sounded confused and resentful. “You do realize that?”
“Then tell your Lady this. The love of power destroyed my family once; I do not wish to see history repeat itself. I will serve her loyally until such a time as she moves against those I consider mine.”
“You want me to give an ultimatum to the consul?”
“No. Merely to request a concession. For an old and trusted ally.”
“There are those who would serve her without such concessions.”
“Yes. Sycophants are always easy to find. They are also easily swayed by the next power who promises them more. How many offers have I turned down to stay with her?” Mircea asked, suddenly angry. “Why this? Why now?”
