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‘You don’t have to stay for ten days.’ I stood up as well, prudently scanning the floor below my feet for snakes. ‘Just to Lyckfort. I doubt anyone will make a fuss if we tell them you’re there to … help familiarise us with the terrain? How does that sound?’
‘Good gods, Em,’ he said, letting out a laugh. ‘You’re so very much your mother’s daughter at times.’
Thankfully Oleander appeared at that moment; the emergence of her small head between two piles of half-rotting travellers’ notebooks saved me from having to figure out an answer. By the time Agenor stood again, his snake back around his shoulders, we were both ready to pretend he’d never spoken those loaded words at all.
Your mother’s daughter, even though I’d never met her in my life – but perhaps a human living among fae wouldn’t be so different from a half fae living among humans.
‘Are you coming to take a look at the fae quarters with me?’ Agenor said.
I couldn’t think of a better way to fill the time, so I followed him into the maze of Inika’s quarter, which was deserted as usual. After some subtle nudging from the group around Lyn and Tared, the Council had quickly decided that the Golden Court force should be housed here if the castle had to be evacuated; not only were there hardly any phoenixes to fill the many homes, but it was farthest from the alves in Orin’s quarter as well.
We made a round of the half-furnished rooms, noting where essentials were missing and whether they could be brought from the Golden Court. Within an hour and a half, we were done, finding ourselves and our handfuls of lists in the broad corridor separating Zera’s quarter from Inika’s quarter. Oleander was restless. I couldn’t tell if it had rubbed off on Agenor or if it was his impatience that caused her fidgeting around his shoulders, but whoever was affecting whom, he didn’t seem in a mood to stick around for much longer.
Back to work, as always. Back to his plans and responsibilities.
‘Well,’ I said, bracing myself against the unreasonable spark of disappointment. In an hour and a half of directionless chatting, he hadn't even confirmed he would come to Lyckfort. ‘In that case, I suppose I’ll see—’
‘Good thinking,’ he interrupted me, blurting it out like a murder confession, stumbling over those words for which no rules or protocols existed. Buttoned-up and stiff-shouldered, he wore his unease like an ill-fitting shirt. ‘On the bindings, I mean. Really a very interesting plan … if it works … if you manage to find them somehow …’
His voice drifted off, leaving a trail of unspoken yet spectacular implications behind.
‘Oh,’ I said, unable to come up with anything else.
He cleared his throat. ‘If there’s anything I can do to help out …’
‘It’s barely a plan,’ I muttered, suddenly painfully aware of the gaping holes in the suggestions I’d managed to present with such unfathomable confidence. The disappointment had been easy to take. This searing bolt of hopeful pride, mingled with a twinge of something close to shame, was a far greater struggle for my pounding heart to contain. ‘There’s so much we still need to figure out.’
‘Is there?’ He finally met my gaze, tilting his head ever so slightly. Not scepticism. Rather … an invitation. ‘It sounds to me like you have most of the basics in place.’
To him. To Lord Agenor himself, who planned everything and had been doing so for more than a thousand years.
I raised my chin slightly, steeling myself. ‘Which parts are missing, do you feel?’
There was a flicker of approval in his eyes, or perhaps it was just relief at this safer ground below our feet. Business and strategy – that we could do, even if playing father and daughter went beyond our capabilities most of the time.
‘You agree with the larger company Lyn suggested?’
‘I suppose it’ll make us less flexible,’ I said slowly, ‘but at least they’re all people I trust, and it’s much better than not going at all. So we can go with that group. We just need a clear destination to make up for the loss of mobility and the time constraints.’
‘Yes.’ He pursed his lips, and somehow he still seemed to be smiling. ‘So what is your destination?’
‘You assume I have one?’
This time it really was a smile, small but unmistakable. ‘Am I wrong?’
I opened my mouth, then burst out laughing. ‘Oh, hell. Quietly making plans was far easier when you insisted on underestimating me.’
‘My heartfelt apologies for the inconvenience,’ he said dryly. ‘But it’s hard to imagine you going to the hassle of reading Sophronia, of all people, without spending a moment’s thought on who exactly you’d like to find once you arrive on the continent.’
‘Of course I thought about it.’ I glanced at the walls behind him – Zera’s flowers and Inika’s flames. How apt. ‘But I’m not sure – I want to be careful. I suppose everyone down here would like to go look for their own god, and we really don’t need any theological discussions when we’re already pressed for time.’
He nodded slowly. ‘Wise.’
‘Thanks.’ My cheeks were warming. Damn it. ‘But … well, Etele went mad, so I doubt she’d be of any help, even if she didn’t kill Creon on the spot. And according to the alves, Orin was already a recluse before the plague. Looking for a god who doesn’t want to be found sounds like a terrible idea, even though he is probably pleasant enough.’
‘I always found him very pleasant company,’ Agenor said, ‘but yes, it could take weeks to find him even at the height of his power. I agree.’
‘So that leaves Inika and Zera.’
