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I turn my head to follow the woman’s meandering walk. “It is my understanding that House Mur already enjoys a significant amount of power and influence. As it stands now, Nald Mur does not have any more of a target on his back than the other nobles. If he were to take the throne, everyone would be going after him. Why would the man bring so much additional risk to himself when the increase in power he’d enjoy is minimal?”
Meritha stops pacing, purses her lips in thought, then sighs. “Nald’s motivation would not be for power, rather a delusional belief his claiming the title of king would somehow make life better for the common citizen.”
“Malin Normund said the same thing.” I fold my arms.
Nielf laughs. “Of course he would. The man wants power, and he’s arrogant to the point of believing only he would make a proper king.”
“Has Elden Galahir or his sister expressed a desire to be monarch?” I ask.
“Not in public.” Nielf rubs his chin. “They spend the majority of their time—when not at their home enjoying their wealth—trying to be charitable. Neither of them are suited to wear the crown, if you ask me. It would be little different from having an actual child on the throne. Worse, in fact, as due to their age, they would not have a regent standing between them and whatever they wanted to do.”
Lindsey leans closer to me and whispers, “A regent technically has control while the monarch is a child. They generally do most things the kid wants but they don’t have to. In case the kid’s a dolt.”
“Thank you, Lady Wikipedia,” I mutter. “I knew that part already.”
“Lady Wikipedia?” Nielf takes note of Lindsey for the first time. “Forgive me but I have not heard of your family.”
Lindsey spins away from him to hide how hard she’s fighting not to laugh.
“Do not take me seriously, Lord Nielf,” I say, smiling. “It is a bit of humor. She is the daughter of a dear friend of our family and she wished to see Frostmarch for herself.”
Nielf and Meritha exchange a ‘this woman is strange’ glance.
Time to get serious. I level my stare at Nielf. “What are your thoughts on the crown? It seems every noble house here has reasons to maneuver for it.”
He glances at Meritha, then back to me. “I have little interest in power. Only knowledge.”
Lindsey’s urge to laugh stops. She twists around to look at him again, seeming confused.
Meanwhile, Meritha waves dismissively. “House Teredwyn has little need to involve itself in such matters. When the political maneuvering confined itself to social shaming and verbal barbs, my dear cousin enjoyed the stimulation of it. Now that someone out there has abandoned decorum and means to take the crown by lethal force, we would much rather stay in our library and disregard the cares of the outside world.”
I’ve had enough of Nielf’s piercing gaze. When I throw a stare right back at him, he flinches. “Is there something amiss, my lord?”
“I... I am not sure,” he says.
“Forgive my cousin.” Meritha smiles. “He can tell you are… unusual.”
“We are from a somewhat far-off kingdom.” I flash a coy smile.
“Yes. I have read much about the nobility of Stonnebrin.” Nielf forces a weak but polite smile. “You would be the first I’ve met in person.”
I pretend to be mildly embarrassed at his attention—acting as if I caught him staring at me on the beach rather than watching me the way a mouse might keep its attention locked on a nearby cat. Neither he nor Meritha feel weird. Malin Normund, however, had dark energy all over him, ostensibly from his magical practice, or so he claims. Might be the dark master failing to hide her energy. These two both feel normal when I lightly poke them mentally in the psychic vampire equivalent of tasting something before eating.
Damn. Getting such a weird vibe from these two, but they appear to be normal people.
We talk for a while more about random nonsense, the sorts of idle pointless things the wealthy in fantasy novels gossip about. Demetria had a good idea in making us foreigners here insofar as everyone believes us to be. It’s an excuse not to know any of the gossip, thus it doesn’t seem unusual that I’m easily confused by everything Meritha or Nielf say about the other nobles. They both sound quite certain Queen Thae is already dead. Either they know something they shouldn’t, or they are making an educated guess based on knowing how things are in this kingdom plus the girl not showing herself for a few days.
Sooner or later, someone with power is going to demand an audience with the queen and not settle for only seeing the regent. When confirmation gets out that the girl is missing, all hell is going to break loose. People will assume she’s dead and the assassins are going to mop up.
Grr. Well, that will be one way to find Nesanth. She’ll be the last one standing when the dust settles. I really hope it doesn’t come to that. But… how exactly am I supposed to discover the true identity of a goddess pretending to be mortal?
Not that Nesanth is a literal goddess, but in this other reality, she effectively is. As long as she’s got her fingers three knuckles deep in Quentin Arnbury’s brain, the woman can bend the fabric of this place to her will.
I’ve never been one to shy away from difficult cases… but going up against a goddess is pushing it.
Chapter Nine
Sansha and Elden
