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I tilt my head. “Wouldn’t people stay away from such a gathering with assassins running around? Seems kinda dumb to all collect in the same place.”
“Yeah, totally.” Tammy nods at me. “It’s like that movie where the crazy rich guy invites all the people he wants dead to his mansion under mysterious pretenses, only to proceed to bump them off one by one.”
Demetria smiles. “Quite the contrary. The threat of assassins would only ensure they attend. If they do not, they would be seen as cowards. When they are all vying for the crown, they cannot afford to be perceived as weak. Refusing to attend the gala would destroy any chance they have of claiming the crown.”
“Anvar won’t go,” says Lindsey.
“Yeah.” Tammy stretches over the table to reach for the water pitcher. “Everyone already thinks of him as a coward. He has nothing to lose. House Teredwyn, too. They seemed pretty wimpy.”
“Correct.” Lindsey holds out her cup so Tammy can refill it with water. “The whole House Teredwyn is considered fairly cowardly.”
“Be that as it may, you all should plan on attending the gala,” says Demetria. “I will be going and bringing you as my guests. Be alert… and expect assassins at any moment.”
Chapter Twelve
Too Many Suspects
With a day to wait before the gala, we do a lot of talking and arguing.
Okay, ‘arguing’ is maybe too strong a word. No one’s getting angry or even impassioned. We’re debating. It’s not like we’re here on vacation and want to sightsee. True, Lindsey could conjure us up some money to spend on a shopping spree but… why? Not only would it basically be stealing, we couldn’t wear anything we bought here back home without being mistaken for renaissance festival geeks.
Besides, no one’s in the mood for fun. It wouldn’t be appropriate.
So, we’re all lounging around inside one of the massive sitting rooms in Demetria’s manor where Nesanth can’t see us. Staying inside this place is the best thing. It might even be making her worry about what we’re doing. The more worried she gets, the more the chances she’ll make a mistake.
I’m draped half in Kingsley’s lap on a sofa bigger than some cars. Tammy’s got a divan across the room to herself, and she’s getting her Cleopatra pose on. Lindsey’s sitting in a relatively normal cushioned chair by a table, poring over some of the Contest of Sovereignty novels. Demetria got them for her. Apparently, they can exist in here since this manor house is technically not part of Quentin’s world.
Anthony’s on the other sofa facing me and Kingsley. Poor kid looks like a giant version of a nine-year-old who’s been dragged off to visit his great aunt, is bored out of his skull, and really wants to go home soon, but is trying to be as polite as possible and not make a fuss. Knowing Anthony, he’s not bored nor does he want to leave as soon as possible. He’s annoyed at not being able to help Quentin immediately.
Damon needed to return to his castle, so he could continue pretending to be Lord Ceomar and keep things in that part of the kingdom reasonably stable while the real Lord Ceomar is comatose. To save time, I flew him there with help from Talos. There’s a rude joke hiding in here somewhere about some ladies would give anything to have a famous Hollywood actor ride them, but I’m above that… I only think it to myself.
Demetria is fairly sure we have about two more weeks before the actual Lord Ceomar withers away to nothing—unless Damon Michaels is removed from this plane of reality. Hmm. I suppose keeping him in this manor house might help the real Lord Ceomar feel better.
Allison’s changed her mind and now thinks Nesanth has assumed the identity of Malin Normund because a dark master would gravitate to dark magic. Lindsey disagrees on the premise House Normund has been ‘creepy and mysterious’ for the entire series but the man’s never done anything truly evil or selfish. Anthony counters her statement with a claim that Nesanth wouldn’t care about what the characters are supposed to be like.
“I think Q put him there as a red herring. Like, everyone expects them to do something super dastardly but they’re just kinda offbeat.” Tammy folds her arms. “He’s a distraction. The one everyone thinks is going to turn out to be the villain… so he won’t. Quentin wrote him as over-the-top creepy and weird so the readers assume he’s behind all the evil stuff.”
“Makes sense.” Lindsey shrugs.
“Not really.” Anthony sighs. “You keep talking about these people like an invading dark master cares about story continuity. A character’s past actions mean nothing to her.”
After a lull, I ask, “What do you guys think about the golden duo?”
Tammy yawns. “I think Q’s saving them up to be total bastards, since they act so pure and sweet so far. Like… no one would suspect them of being bad until they flip out and go full on insane.”
“What do you think of the siblings?” Kingsley glances over at Lindsey. “Since you’re our resident expert.”
Lindsey sighs at the pile of novels. “They’re so sweet and good because they’re on the chopping block to die tragically. It’s not like Quentin to have characters completely change their attitude. Anyone who’s as sickeningly pure as those two is absolutely going to die. This world is far too cruel for them.”
“Explains why they’ve removed themselves from it.” I stretch, letting a frustrated sigh leak past my teeth. “I’m reminded of Alice in Wonderland. Just pretending like the outside world doesn’t exist.”
“If this realm had psychotherapists, they’d be rich.” Kingsley laughs.
Tammy laces her fingers together behind her head. “What about you, big guy? Who do you think Nesanth is?”
Kingsley sits there in silence for almost a minute before saying, “Meritha. She’s playing herself off as a coward, but I don’t buy it.”
“Hmm.” Tammy rolls on her side. “I’m tempted to agree with you for different reasons. There’s no mention of a Meritha Teredwyn in the books. Nielf ought to be the head of house Teredwyn. It’s weird to me that woman seems to be in charge.”
