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The Proposal
Edmund sorted through the stacks of paperwork strewn around his desk. The tax office had completed their audit of all the nobles who had donated to theSentinel, a newspaper that had turned out to be a front for a Mongavarian spy ring. Now he was comparing the audits with all other government documents he could find, including trade applications and copies of log books from ships and dock masters.
In the months since the spy ring had been discovered, Edmund had been put in charge of tracking down any other Mongavarian spies still lingering in Escarland. It had been tedious work, involving a lot more paperwork than his previous job of undercover spying.
But Edmund no longer minded. This was important work, disentangling Mongavaria’s claws from Escarland and Tarenhiel.
And he got to spend his lunch breaks and evenings with a certain elf princess. He wouldn’t trade time with Jalissa for anything.
Just the thought of Jalissa brought a smile, and he touched the pocket where the box—and its ring—rested. Today. He would ask her today.
“What has you grinning like a jester? Do you find tax reports amusing?”
Edmund glanced up as General Bloam—his superior in Escarland’s Intelligence Office—halted next to his desk. While General Bloam’s face remained blank, even forbidding, the twinkle in his eyes gave away that he was not chiding Edmund.
“No, sir.” Edmund closed the report he had been reading.
“Ah. Your usualdistractionthen.” General Bloam’s expression turned even more dour, a sure sign he was teasing. “I suppose it’s just as well that you have the afternoon off. You will accomplish little in your state.”
Edmund let his grin linger for a moment longer before he turned back to business. He added the file to themight be suspiciouspile. “I think I’ve narrowed down which of the nobles who donated to theSentinelwere simply duped and which ones warrant further investigation. There isn’t much I can do here until after I’ve done a bit of investigating.”
General Bloam’s amusement fled, and his mouth pressed into a tighter line. “Be careful. Their connection to theSentinelgives us cause to investigate them, but it wouldn’t be a good look if a prince of Escarland were caught investigating his own people.”
“I know.” Edmund patted his pocket again, flashing another grin. “But haven’t you heard? I’ve put all that spying stuff behind me, now that I have a lovely elf princess on my arm encouraging me to settle down. With her at my side, the nobles are going to welcome me into their homes freely and eagerly just to get a glimpse of the couple who is the toast of the town. If I happen to pick up a little gossip and fish out their political leanings while I’m at it, they can’t blame me.”
And if he could talk the noblemen into stepping into their study during the evenings for a nip of brandy and if he happened to catch a glimpse of incriminating evidence while he was at it, well, so much the better.
“Very well.” General Bloam gave a sharp nod, then moved on to the section of desks dedicated to the analysts for Mongavaria.
Escarland’s spying network in Mongavaria had been all but wiped out a few months ago. General Bloam and the others had been working feverishly to get a new network in place. But that took time, and they didn’t dare move too fast, otherwise they might alert the already wary Mongavarians.
All the more reason for Edmund to put an end to whatever spying efforts Mongavaria still had in Escarland. If Escarland couldn’t spy on Mongavaria, it was only fair that Mongavaria couldn’t spy on Escarland.
After straightening the papers and placing them in locked drawers in his desk, Edmund nodded to the others as he wound his way through the maze of desks and left the room. He strode down the corridor that housed the Intelligence Office.
At the doors that connected this wing with the rest of Winstead Palace, he had to halt, show identification, and whisper that week’s password to the four guards stationed there. It didn’t matter that he was a prince and clearly recognizable. The Intelligence Office wasn’t taking any chances with the new protocols after the embarrassment caused by the break-in several months ago.
Only then was Edmund free to wander through the corridors of Winstead Palace, headed for the door and the path to Buckmore Cottage.
As he strode past the open door to Averett’s study, his brother glanced up. “Edmund. Anything to report?”
Edmund sighed, but he stepped inside Averett’s office with a smile. As much as he wanted to rush off to spend the afternoon with Jalissa, reporting to his king about the spy situation came first.
After closing the door behind him, he took a seat in a chair across the desk from his brother. The oak surface overflowed with stacks of paperwork that made Edmund’s files look piddling in comparison.
“Well? Any leads on additional spies?” Averett smoothed a hand over his face, dark circles underneath his eyes. His red-brown hair was mussed while his clothing was rumpled. All a testament to the long hours he had been pulling.
This situation with Mongavaria had to be weighing on Averett. If it came to war, they would be in for a long, bloody conflict.
But the price of peace was their brother Julien’s marriage to King Rharreth’s shield sister Vriska—unless she backed out the moment she met Julien and the next troll woman on the list took her place.
Edmund didn’t envy either of his brothers for the position they were in. If he didn’t love Jalissa so much, he would be tempted to feel guilty, falling in love when an arranged marriage should have been his duty as the third son instead of Julien’s.
But he had Jalissa, and he wasn’t about to give her up for duty and kingdom. Nor would either of his brothers ask that of him.
Edmund rested his elbows on the chair’s armrests. “We haven’t received word yet from the investigators sent to the cities where the counterfeit money turned up, but I’m sure they’ll report soon if they’ve found any more of the spy network there. It could be the whole network closed up shop or decided to lie low after word reached them about our raid on theSentinel.It will make it that much harder to track them down.”
“At least if they are in hiding, they aren’t effectively spying. That’s something.” Averett sighed heavily and looked ready to rub his face again. “Please tell me I can at least be certain my nobles aren’t about to turn on us the way Lord Bletchly did last year?”
