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The man started at that, his eyes flickering fearfully around us, and his shoulders tensed once more. When I remained in my seat and he saw that the palace guards were not approaching us but rather leaving the hall entirely –thank you, Morales– well, I could only assume from my lack of immediate death that he realised my knowledge of his intentions did not equate to the ability to stop him carrying them out.
“You...”
“Saw it all,” I confirmed, and then shrugged. “Enough of it, anyway. I Saw you crush the two glass vials you’re holdingin your right hand, and how the resulting spark from their combined components ignited the black powder you’re wearing under your clothing. I saw dozens of people die.”
I cocked my head. “What Ididn’tSee, señor, is your name.”
Still he hesitated to give it.
“A dead man cannot share a name with anyone but his god, if he believes in such things,” I said airily. Which I did not. “It is no-”
“Xio,” my companion said. He fidgeted gracelessly in the chair, looking very much like he wanted to ask me something. Sure enough, the question exploded from him a moment later when I did nothing but nod.
“If your Sight showed you your death, Your Highness, why would you not flee?”
“Oh, you’d have let me go, would you?” I asked, vaguely amused. “And all the others gathered in the hall, too?”
His lips thinned, and I snorted. “I thought not.”
“You called for tea, king consort?”
I glanced up in alarm at the figure approaching us with a serving tray in her hands, terrified that a servant had slipped through my hasty evacuation order to fulfil nonsense words I’d spoken without thought, too intent on keeping Xio’s attention on me.
But the woman who placed the tray on the low table between us was Councillor Morales. She deftly poured the contents of the silver teapot into the two small cups set on their delicate saucers, flourishing her wrist as she finished. Yet instead of offering the teacups to me and my guest as was proper, she bowed and took a half step back, leaving them both on the tray.
“After you,” I said graciously when I realised what she’d done. Xio stared at us both suspiciously before gesturing at a teacupseemingly at random, but he didn’t pick it up even when I’d sipped at mine. Apparently allowing him to choose still hadn’t assured him the tea wasn’t poisoned.
Wise, because it wasn’t tea at all.
I shot a grin at Morales as familiar biting warmth flooded my throat, decidedly less amused when she planted herself in the chair next to mine.
“Your presence is neither invited nor welcome, councillor,” I said through gritted teeth, trying to convey the wordsfucking run!through a glare alone. But me and Morales were not Jiron and Ren, and we did not have their wordless communication skills. She merely raised an eyebrow before reaching out to take Xio’s abandoned teacup and throwing back her head to drain its alcoholic contents dry.
“Yet my presence you have,” she said simply, not a trace of rasp in her voice from all the Mazekhstani vodka she’d just sculled. Impressive.
“Then let me make it plainer. Fuck off,” I growled, praying she’d listen.
“Please do leave,” added Xio, the fingers of his visible hand scoring lines in the fabric of his coat. He looked just as upset about her being here as I was.
Morales exhaled like she found this all so wearisome. “And let you kill our king consort? I don’t think so.” The clatter of teacup on saucer drew our attention for a moment, letting her get more comfortable in her chair. “What is it? Venomous spores? Airborne poison?”
“Black powder,” I murmured and Xio deflated at that, finally reaching up to loosen his coat with the hand that wasn’t stuffed into his pocket. The man was thinner than his bulk hadindicated, the excess made up of dozens of tiny little cloth bags peppered across his chest and hanging from strings on what looked like a fishing net he’d draped around him like a cloak.
Morales let out a long, low whistle. “Nasty.”
“You don’t have to die,” Xio told us, his face contorted into a pained grimace. “If you summon the king here, you can both leave.”
“You’re not getting anywhere near my husband,” I snapped. “No matter your threats, that doesn’t change.”
He glanced questioningly at the councillor, who shook her head mutely in agreement.
The man slowly exhaled. “Fine. They said he was nearly as good,” he muttered, jerking his chin at me and apparently conversing solely with Morales as he resigned himself to my assassination. “You should go now.”
She gave him an easy, unconcerned smile. “Who arethey?”
“You think I won’t do it?” snarled Xio, twitching forward in his seat. “You think I won’t kill you too, councillor, if you stay?”
“No,” I said, drawing his attention back to me. “I don’t think you will.”
