by Kaylin Lee
I sat in the chair closest to Estevan’s desk, while Estevan returned to behind his desk and the three men pulled up chairs beside me.
Estevan sat back and folded his arms.
I looked between the three men, who all seemed to find something secretly amusing, and Estevan, who looked ready to throw them all out of the room.
There was a beat of awkward silence, and then Estevan finally spoke. “These three report to me on their activities at the end of each day.” He shot me a look. “This is why I often dine later than the traditional dinner hour. For the time being, I’d like you, Belle, to join our evening meetings and offer whatever insights you may have about the dynamics of Procus families, which, I’m sure you can imagine, impact our work at the palace a great deal.”
I nodded.
“Interrupt them whenever you like,” said Estevan, waving a hand. Then he addressed the three men. “Which one of you managed to prepare fully tonight?”
The blond man, Damon, leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees as he turned toward me, another broad smile spreading across his face. “I’m quite prepared. If I may start?”
At a surly nod from Estevan, Damon whipped out a notebook covered in slanted notes and a pencil. “Lady Belle, I would like to begin by saying thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for taking the time to—”
“Get on with it already,” Estevan growled.
Damon smiled wider. “Of course, Your Highness,” he said smoothly. He squared his shoulders and addressed the group as one. “The Mage Division is still in turmoil, as expected,” he said. “We had three new reports of mages attempting to resist their True Names today, though none were yet successful. Mage Division staff are uncertain whether the reports are accurate, or the result of panicked imagining from their Procus patrons in response to the article about Zel.” He frowned. “Not that the Mage Division can question their patrons officially, of course. To be safe, all three mages are now detained in the Mage Division dungeon.”
Estevan frowned. “That’s not ideal.”
“I know. It’s not ideal at all. And if they manage to resist their True Names while in the dungeon … well, let’s just hope our new system for apprehending rogue mages safely actually works in the face of real threats. Two of the mages currently detained are classified as mover mages, and one is quite powerful, even among movers.”
I shivered. The rogue mage who’d started the Crimson Blight and stalked my classmate Ella had been a mover mage, too. He’d used his power to push magic through the air to play terrifying tricks on her, sneaking threatening messages into her bedroom and hiding them a moment later until she thought she was going mad.
“The new regulations had better work,” Estevan shot back. “You’ve spent enough time on them. But I don’t want anyone to be hurt unnecessarily.”
Damon nodded. “Agreed. Which brings us to my second item—the status of the new mage regulations. The committee has finalized apprehension and detainment procedures for every classification of mage, after some interesting rounds of testing with volunteers this past week. We are now confident that the procedures work—in theory, and in best-case scenarios.
“Now, we need to bring the new procedures into the real world, against real threats from rogue mages, to find any additional weaknesses and flaws.” Damon leaned back in his chair, good humor fading from his handsome face. “And that brings me to my third update—it seems some Procus families are truly panicking now. My sources among the service mages say that the patrons are issuing ever more specific commands, as though hoping to weigh the mages down with duties and restrictions so they have no hope of resistance.”
My stomach tightened. What was happening to Petrina right now? Was she even safe in my father’s villa anymore? I couldn’t imagine what kinds of orders and controls he’d attempt to place on his mages if he felt threatened by them. Part of me hoped she’d been let go as soon as I’d been arrested. At least, she wouldn’t be at my father’s mercy like everyone else.
“And I spoke to the Court of Lords representative again today.” Damon frowned. “He admits that the Procus families are worried, but he insists they can handle the mages on their own by keeping the True Name system in place. The lords are holding steady, he says, and won’t compromise.” He shook his head. “We’re headed for collision, Your Highness. The Procus lords are so terrified of violent resistance from the mages, they’re pushing the mages to the point where they will have no choice but to resist with violence. If we don’t get the regulations passed soon …”
A wash of guilt made my cheeks flush, and I looked away from Damon, accidentally meeting Estevan’s eyes. His gaze held me captive for a moment, and then I looked down at my hands, tightly folded in my lap. It was my fault the mage regulations hadn’t passed. Did everyone in the room know it, or just me and Estevan? How could I live with myself if something happened to Petrina in my father’s villa because she couldn’t resist her True Name?
I looked at Estevan again and bit my lip, wondering for the first time if I had made the wrong decision in refusing him. Would it be on my shoulders if more mages suffered at the hands of cruel Procus lords like my father?
Estevan crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “So, Belle? What do you think about Damon’s report?”
Perhaps I could help them pass the mage regulations without giving in to his proposal. Surely, the lifetime I’d spent obsessing over Procus politics would be of use to someone.
“The Procus families are frightened,” I said slowly, echoing Damon’s words aloud as I mulled them over. “They’re afraid of violent resistance from the most powerful mages, aren’t they? The movers and creators who build their homes and create their art, the healers who keep them healthy, and the destroyers who protect their compounds from rival families. But these powerful mages make up the smallest number of service mages who take Procus patronages. Most service mages are weaker, with only mild absorbent or expellant tendencies, like appearance mages, purifiers, and growers.”
Damon shifted toward me, his eyes sparking with not-quite-professional interest once again. “Correct. But what does that have to do with the problem? Aren’t they all the same, for the purposes of the mage regulations?”
I frowned, running the options through my mind. “Not quite,” I finally said. “Because most Procus families could live without the powerful mages if they had to. After all, they already have common guards for defense of the compounds. And if they really needed to, common laborers could build homes without magic. And healers can only do so much when a Procus lord’s time has come.”
Damon tapped his pencil against his notebook. “But what about the weaker mages?”
“They’re the ones who provide what Procus families really want—what they really depend on, for day-to-day life.” I nodded to myself.
Damon’s brow was furrowed as he considered my words.
“Think about it. No common gardener can grow plants out of season or protect delicate flowers like goldblossoms that don’t naturally thrive in Asylia’s climate. No common maid can sterilize linens or dishes as well as a purifier. And,” I said, leaning forward in my seat, “what Procus lady could survive even a single day without her appearance mage? Not one that I’ve ever met. They’d be too frightened to leave their compound without the mage-craft makeup, hair, and dress they’ve depended on for years.”
Damon laughed.
I shook my head. “It’s true!” I gestured to my face and hair. “You don’t know how painful it was for me to leave my bedroom like this during the first few days I spent at the palace. Even now that I’m accustomed to going without my appearance mage, I’d never dare show my face in such a state if I had a choice.”
Estevan made a choking noise, but when I turned to look, his face was impassive.
At the same time, Damon sputtered, but I cut him off before he could speak. “The greatest danger to Procus families right now is not the rebellion of a few violent, rogue mages. It’s the
loss of their way of life. If they can’t convince appearance mages and the like to serve Procus families willingly and peaceably, life will change so dramatically as to be unrecognizable for the Procus lords and their families. They’ll never admit it, but the last thing they want is a violent uprising that robs them of their precious luxuries.” I glanced at Estevan, who watched me with strange look—one I’d never seen on him before.
I shook off my curiosity and faced the group again. “Show them how the new mage regulations can enable their luxuries to continue,” I told Damon, “and they’ll be more willing to compromise. I doubt they’ll come all the way over to your side. Their pride and power are at stake, after all. ‘A man speaks of strength, but his heart yearns for ease.’” I nodded, feeling more certain than I had about anything in a while. “I know Asylia’s Procus lords. They’ll do whatever it takes to continue to live as they do now.”
Estevan leaned back and crossed his arms behind his head. “We did include a special provision for mages who want to pursue patronages in the new regulations. If they’re offered a stipend, there’s nothing stopping them from continuing to serve the Procus families.”
“Yes,” said Damon, looking up from scribbling in his notebook. “But we haven’t emphasized that provision with the Court of Lords. Our debates have focused on the dangers posed by the most powerful mages if they can resist the True Name’s control. I didn’t consider that the cooperation of weaker mages might actually be a better bargaining tool.” He turned to me and grinned. Before I could move back, he leaned forward in his chair, grabbed my hand, and kissed it. “As I said before, you honor us with your presence, Lady Belle.” He released my hand and winked.
“Enough.” Estevan looked ready to leap across the table. “Whoever is next, proceed now, before I tire of this meeting. And … well said, Belle,” he added gruffly. “You’ve already helped a great deal.”
I smiled. I felt more like myself than I had in a long time. “Thank you.”
Ferris, the Commerce Ministry liaison, spoke next. “Not much to report here,” he said, his words quiet but precise. “The waiting list for mage-craft business licenses has grown by another fifty names, as of today. Both mages and common merchants are signing up in droves. The last one who applied wants to open a shop selling mage-craft spiceberry balls in the Common Quarter. He nearly beat down the door to my office, he was so excited to get his name on the list. Something about looking for a replacement to cinderslick. He’d heard of a brewer who lowered his costs by working with a mage-craft tool instead of cinderslick, and now he can’t wait to get his hands on one of his own.”
Estevan smiled—just barely. “I wouldn’t be surprised if an enterprising mage from your list is already working on such a tool. Ella and Weslan have been planting ideas with mages and merchants left and right. If we ever get these regulations passed, the city’s commerce will never be the same again.” And then the hint of warmth disappeared as he addressed the shorter man—the head of intelligence. “Andres, what do you have for me?”
Andres shook his head. “We’ve completed our final sweep of Belle’s room and the whole wing upstairs. No trace of magic, nothing that would lead to the attacker’s trail.” He cracked his knuckles. “It’s odd, Your Highness. When a Procus lord hires a common criminal to do his dirty work, the best trackers can nearly always find a hint of the lord’s mage-crafts at the scene—the grower mages who work on his garden, the appearance mage who made his suit jacket—it inevitably rubs off on the man he hires. Trace amounts, but still enough to track. This time, there’s nothing. It’s like he never encountered anyone in Asylia, much less a Procus lord covered in magical traces.” His expression darkened. “Or, more likely, he has significant experience evading and purifying magical traces, which would mean this isn’t the first time Argentarius has gotten away with something like this.”
I swallowed and sat back in my chair. I felt Estevan’s gaze upon me, but I ignored him, too caught up in my own whirlwind of thoughts. Had my father ordered someone’s death before? What was he involved in? And what had he smuggled through the city gates that was so important he’d kill me to hide it? I drew in a breath and tried to focus on what Andres was saying.
“—say it’s the only hint that anything is amiss at the compound. Argentarius is like a suffio bomb, they said, and given the slightest affront, he explodes. Six common servants have been let go for minor mistakes in as many days, some with injuries from beatings, though they don’t dare speak to the Quarter Guards or Ministry of Justice.”
A chill ran down my spine. I avoided meeting Estevan’s eyes.
“Duly noted.” Estevan’s voice was cold.
“We’ll continue the investigation of the smuggling charge tomorrow,” Andres continued, “and I’ll keep you apprised if we learn anything new.”
If, he’d said. Not when. They didn’t expect to learn anything that would help.
I kept my eyes on my lap and focused on breathing. This was a good thing. I had to see it that way. If my father thought he’d committed his crimes with no one the wiser, he’d have no reason to fear me when I returned home to continue my investigation.
The roaring in my ears and the pounding of my pulse didn’t quite agree, but I knew better. I nodded to myself and ignored the feeling of Estevan’s burning stare. It was a good thing that Father thought he’d gotten away with it. A few weeks from now, when Estevan sent me back to my villa to continue my investigation and I safely infiltrated the household without causing suspicion, I’d be grateful my father had almost gotten away with murdering me.
Chapter 26
Breakfast in the Sentinels’ dining hall was a quiet affair. The past few days, Cole had brought a tray to my room, but this morning, I was determined to get out of my stifling box before anyone had a chance to convince me to stay. Now the dining hall was nearly empty, save for a small group of trackers and a few guards having a quite conversation at one end of the room.
“Oh, Lady Belle is here! Good morning!”
Ella’s sister, Alba, appeared at my elbow, smiling shyly, with her sister, Bri, behind her, looking uncomfortable.
“Good morning,” I replied. “Would you like to join me for breakfast?”
Alba nodded enthusiastically. “We would love to. Our parents are working all day, and Ella has her committee, and it’s not … um … safe for us to go to school, so we’re just … here. It’s a little boring.”
Bri nudged her sister. “Don’t sound so ungrateful. It beats the bakery, doesn’t it?”
Alba flushed. “Of course! I’m not ungrateful, it’s just …” She bit her lip as her faced turned even pinker.
“I understand,” I said, fighting laughter. “I feel the same way.”
Alba let out a relieved breath, and the three of us took our breakfast trays to the nearest table.
“The dining hall is quiet this morning,” I said to Alba. “Where is everyone?”
Alba giggled. “Um … I think we’re just eating later than everyone else does.”
“Oh!” Of course. No doubt Cole and the other guards had eaten at dawn, and here I was, thinking I’d risen early to escape my room. I matched Alba’s smile. “I see. Well, I’m glad to see the two of you. I’m going mad in this place by myself.”
Bri nodded. “Us too. It’s so dim and cramped. Back home at the bakery, we could at least escape to the rooftops,” she said wistfully. “And at the villa in the Mage Division, we could go anywhere we pleased. Now …”
“We’ll be back there soon,” Alba said, her voice full of forced cheer. “Mom said so. We’ll be back before we’ve even had a chance to miss it. Right, Bri?”
Bri rolled her eyes. “Yep. Sure we will.”
We finished our breakfasts too quickly. I could tell from the way they both lingered at the table that they weren’t any more eager to get back to their room than I was.
“So … what do you do for fun around here? Besides eat?”
Alba and Bri exchanged
a look, and Alba’s cheeks turned bright red. “Well … there is one thing we like to do, isn’t there, Bri?”
To my surprise, Bri blushed too. “Yeah. There is.”
My curiosity spiked. “What is it?”
“Come on.” Alba stood and piled up our trays. “We’ll show you.”
~
They led me through the narrow hallways with Cole following at our heels, a bemused expression on his face whenever I turned back. Then they stopped before a set of double doors.
Alba paused and addressed me. “Just so you know, we were not explicitly forbidden from coming here.”
“Right,” said Bri. “Not explicitly. That’s what matters.”
I wanted to laugh aloud at their cautious expressions. I met Cole’s eyes, wondering if he had any idea what they were doing. He looked ready to burst out laughing himself, so it must be fine. I shrugged. “Noted. Let’s go in.”
Alba opened one of the doors and we all filed inside. I was so entertained by the guilty set of Bri’s shoulders that it took me a moment to realize where we were. Then my senses kicked in. Sweat and iron, clanking metal, soft mats under our feet, and stone-faced, black-clad guards. I froze, and then Alba gently pulled me along with her, so that we stood out of the way, pressed against the wall closest to the door.
“We just stay over here,” she said, and winked. “They don’t mind. And our dad was the one who showed us this place, back when we first came here. So I’m sure he wouldn’t mind us being here.”
I took in the scene. Sure, Alba. He wouldn’t mind at all. The room was about half-full, with muscular guards lifting frightening-looking weights and sparring with deadly weapons in every free spot in the room. A few guards shot friendly smiles our way, obviously unsurprised to have the twins as an audience this morning, and I had to hold back another laugh. I wondered what the twins’ strict, intimidating mother Zel would think of this little activity.
Alba must have read my skepticism on my face, because she smiled widely. “And besides, even if we do get in trouble, it’s totally worth it. Right, Bri?”
