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Something flickered in Silas’s eyes… annoyance? Or something more? “You may have a point. Now what is it that Lady Zarrah wishes to discuss?”
Lifting her chin, Zarrah allowed her grief to swell, the prick of tears in her eyes unfeigned as she said, “Your spymaster informed me that an individual of some importance to me was apprehended and killed.” She shot a look of venom at Keris, who shifted uneasily. “Killed byhisblade.”
Silas’s jaw tightened. “What of it? The woman murdered four of my soldiers. If you are seeking an apology, you are wasting your breath.”
“That’s not what I want.” A tear spilled down her cheek. “Yrina was my bodyguard. And friend. I’d see her remains treated with respect and returned to the Red Desert. And in exchange, I’ll offer you information about your daughter.”
“Which one?”
“Lara.” It was old information. Probably useless as far as locating the traitor queen. But from the way Silas slid his boots from his desk and straightened in his chair, Zarrah knew she’d chosen well.
“I’ve no notion of what Serin did with the remains, but if such a thing is possible, I will see it done,” he said. “That is, assuming your information is good.”
“Our spies told us that she was seen in several coastal villages in Harendell,” she said. “In taverns every night.”
Silas grimaced. “Yes, yes. We received the same information. It is of no worth, as she disappeared before assassins could track her down.”
“Did your spies also inform you that she was drinking to excess every night?”
“I fail to see how tales of hercelebrationsare of any worth.”
Probably because he was a man. And his spies were men. Whereas the Valcottan who’d reported this information had been very much a woman. “Not celebrating, Your Grace. She drank alone, refusing to have anything to do with other patrons, drinking to such excess that she was often sick in the gutter, at which point she’d drag herself back to a boarding house, always alone.” An easy mark, which the traitor queen of Ithicana had to have known. “She favored harbor taverns, particularly those with active trade between Harendell and Southwatch market.”
Silas stared at her, still not comprehending.
“She behaved like a woman with deep regrets. A woman with nothing left to lose. A woman desperate for information about those she left behind. And if, as you say, she’s now gone from those taverns, it is because she learned the news of her husband’s capture.”
“She’s coming for him,” Keris said softly, a hint of disbelief in his voice, and Zarrah gave a slight nod. “A spy’s worth is not always in what they see and hear, but in how they interpret it.”
A smile of delight rose to Silas’s face. “Indeed. And it is news well received. I shall discover the fate of the remains of your countrywoman.”
“Thank you.” The words stuck in her throat, but Zarrah forced them out. She’d take them back when she took his life.
A knock sounded at the door, the guard stepping inside. “Serin is here, Your Grace.”
The spymaster entered. Though he must have been surprised to see her standing there with Keris, still very much alive, none of it registered on his face. “Aren has agreed to attend a dinner with the ambassadors tonight.”
“Excellent.” Silas sipped at his drink. “I’m going to need you to dig up the corpse of that Valcottan woman. Pay a merchant to dump the body in the Red Desert.”
“Why would we do such a thing?”
“As payment for information the Valcottans had about Lara thatyoudidn’t.”
There was a threat in Silas’s tone, but instead of blanching, Serin’s gaze darkened with anger. “What information would that be?”
“Information on Lara’s behavior and state of mind,” Silas answered, then repeated what Zarrah had told him.
“It would be good information if not for the fact it presumably predates Lady Zarrah’s capture in Nerastis, suggesting that it isoldinformation and likely of little use.”
She couldn’t help but tense, because if Silas agreed, he might deny Yrina dignity in death.
“You’re an idiot if that’s what you think,” Keris said. “And even if it proves useless, the fact remains that it is information your spies failed to accurately report, Serin. You must be losing your touch.”
“My son makes a valid point.”
Zarrah didn’t so much as blink, but watching the spymaster squirm, knowing full well that his scheming had been turned back on him, sent a rush of vicious pleasure through her.
“I will endeavor to tighten my web,” Serin finally said. “But as for the matter of the body, I’m afraid that will be impossible.”
