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“Gods.” Flavian’s gaze dropped to his soldier once more. “He should have died in battle, not been hunted for sport by a Gift Collector lying in wait for Hesperines.”
“If there were not a single Hesperine in Tenebra,” Lio said, “you would still have Cordium’s assassins at your throat. Lucis’s mage allies would interfere to aid him, regardless of whether Orthros involves ourselves. But if we had a presence at Patria, no Gift Collector would have set foot here.”
Silence was more effective than diplomatic blather. Lio left the rest of his point unspoken and let Flavian think it for himself. If Hesperines had been here, Hamon would still be alive.
Flavian straightened to his full height. Lio looked down at him.
The man’s aura flashed with anger. “And here I was expecting diplomacy from you, Ambassador. Are you implying that I cannot protect my own men?”
“It won’t help Hamon for either of us to nurse our pride, Lord Flavian. And it won’t help you to have an ally who is all diplomatic blather. Steward Lyros and I are here on behalf of Orthros to offer you something that is actually of use to you while Hadria is breathing down your neck and Severitas is shouting in your face. Protection.”
At last it appeared to dawn on Flavian that he had made an apprentice-level mistake when dealing with Hesperines: he had not taken their preternatural hearing into consideration.
“I am a light mage,” Lio said, “but I am also one of the most powerful Hesperine thelemancers, next to Silvertongue and the Victory Star. Mage Eudias and I dueled this necromancer before. Let me help him protect Patria.”
“Ah, there are the pretty words I was told to expect from Glasstongue,” Flavian said lightly. “I’m afraid they won’t work on me, Ambassador. I know that when you told the Allied Lords you’re a mind mage, it was merely a bluff during a crucial point in negotiations. And I know you revealed to them afterwards how harmless you are.”
Taking care not to frighten the mortals had been necessary at the time. But Lio could not afford to hide his magic now. After everything he and Cassia had survived, he knew when to keep his power in reserve—and when to use it to the fullest.
“Allowing them to deem me harmless was a kindness,” Lio said. “But now I will let them fear me, if it means keeping them alive. The bluff was that I am merely a light mage.”
Flavian scoffed. “You expect me to believe you, when you change your version of the truth to suit yourself?”
Whether Lio made an enemy or ally of Flavian tonight, he must make a believer of him. “It seems an exercise in truth is in order. With your permission, I will provide you with evidence of my power.”
“Ambassador,” Benedict broke in, courteous but firm, “is this really necessary?”
“With respect, Sir Benedict, I believe it is. The Allied Lords returned home in a cloud of rumors about the events of the Summit. Lord Flavian, as the man in command here at Patria, should have the facts to inform his decisions.”
“What magical exercise do you suggest?” Eudias asked.
“Lord Flavian should hold a thought in his mind—something I have no way of knowing. For example, something that no one who came to Orthros for the Summit could have told me. If I can tell him what he is thinking, that should be demonstration enough of my power.”
“This is your idea of proof?” Flavian demanded. “You want to use your magic on me?”
“No, I will not perform any active castings. If you focus on a thought, I will be able to hear it without applying my magic to your mind or trespassing on your Will in any way.”
Flavian’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t have time to play games.”
Lio let a trace of his power infuse his voice. “This is no game, I assure you. I do not play with people’s lives.”
A subtle shiver went through Flavian, and the determination in his aura faltered. Words flashed across the surface of his thoughts, too unguarded for any mind mage to miss. Uncanny bastard…should have believed the tales about the size of his fangs…
The man’s discomfort sent satisfaction running through Lio’s veins. But he had made his point and should not indulge himself. Flavian had no personal aversion to Hesperines, and Lio had best not give him a reason to harbor such prejudices now.
Waiting for Flavian to make up his mind, Lio closed his mouth and gave his fangs an opportunity to recede.
Finally Flavian looked Lio in the eye. “Very well. Prove to me whether you’re as powerful as you claim.”
Closing his eyes, Flavian crossed his arms and leaned against the wall behind his desk. His own bluff of easy confidence would have been convincing, if his aura had not been teetering on the edge of doubt and fear.
With some caution, Lio attuned himself to Flavian’s thoughts, wary of what he would see. After all, the man was part of the Brotherhood of Hedon. No telling what unsavory things he had done in the name of the god of pleasure and chance.
But what Lio saw in his mind’s eye was a familiar scene. He had witnessed it in Cassia’s memories. A bonfire on the greensward of Solorum palace, a gathering of nobles. This time from Flavian’s point of view.
Lio’s gut clenched as Flavian recalled sneaking away to meet Cassia in the woods, alone. When Flavian remembered the kiss he had planned to give her, all the helpless rage Lio had felt that night came flooding back to him.
Flavian’s eyes had come open. He was watching Lio for a reaction, and a sense of outraged satisfaction flared in his aura, as if Lio had just proved him right about something.
