by Jordan Rivet
“I—”
“Of course it didn’t,” Jessamyn said. “Because you think you’re sooo superior, and you’re the only one who cares, and aren’t all these ladies so silly with their dresses and their tea parties.”
Mica took a step back, exactly as Edwina had when the emperor rebuked her.
“We. Are. Looking. For. The. Missing. Talents.” Jessamyn bit off each word. “The information you send to Master Kiev is helping.” Mica opened her mouth, and the princess flung up a hand. “Yes, of course I know about your other mission. But what you don’t know is that the perpetrator of these crimes is not Obsidian.”
“You mean—?”
“Someone, most likely a member of this court, is kidnapping Talents and keeping them within the empire.”
Mica’s jaw dropped, growing a few extra inches for good measure, as the implications hit her.
“That is grotesque, Micathea. Honestly.” Jessamyn folded her arms and looked down her nose. “My father and I were hiding the fact that we’re aware it is an inside conspiracy in order to increase our chances of actually catching the traitors.”
“I’m sorry, Princess. I didn’t know—”
“No, you didn’t. But you had orders, which you directly disobeyed. Part of being an effective imperial spy is following directions even when you don’t understand them.” Jessamyn sighed. “It’s a shame. I had such high hopes for you. It will be so much hassle to train your replacement.”
“My . . . my replacement?”
Jessamyn dismissed her with a wave. “May you thrive, Micathea.”
The princess strutted over to the mirrors and began combing out her hair, which she’d pulled into a thick braid over her shoulder. She was wearing her riding clothes, Mica realized. She’d skipped a dance lesson to go riding? Why? And with whom?
It doesn’t matter, she thought dully. She was fired. Master Kiev had been wrong. Her skills weren’t adequate for the task of serving the princess after all—and now she knew that Jessamyn was much more in tune with what was happening around the empire than she realized. And she apparently knew more about Master Kiev’s mysterious spy network than Mica did.
Shoulders sagging, Mica turned away from the princess and trudged across the thick carpet on the dressing room floor. The jewels and silk dresses seemed to mock her. She’d been too dismissive, unable to see that there was more going on beneath the glittering surfaces than she thought.
She got as far as the door before she realized she wasn’t willing to give up yet. She turned around.
“Princess Jessamyn, please give me another chance. I’ll make up for my mistake today. I can still help you.”
Jessamyn didn’t look away from the mirror. “And why would you want to do that?”
“I want to find the missing Talents,” Mica said. “I think my friend Danil is with them, and my family are all Talents too.” She thought about adding something about serving the empire, but she had a feeling Jessamyn would see the truth. She didn’t have some vague patriotic motivation. This was personal. “Like you said, it’d take time to replace me. I’m afraid those Talents are being killed—or used for their blood. They may not have a lot of time.”
Jessamyn put down her brush and fixed her bright, almost-manic eyes on Mica in the mirror. They were exactly the same height, and as their eyes met, Mica had the eerie sensation that only one of them was real, the other a mere shade. She wasn’t sure which was which.
“I will give you another chance,” Jessamyn said at last, “but only one.”
Mica started to speak, but the princess raised an eyebrow, silencing her.
“I believe I can get out ahead of today’s debacle. I shall make the Talent disappearances one of my little causes. That ought to keep everyone from taking my interest too seriously.” She turned away from the mirror to face Mica. “Can you accept that my father and I really do care about our people, even if we do not announce every thought we’ve ever had about them from the dais?”
“Yes, Princess Jessamyn,” Mica said quickly. “And thank you! I promise I’ll do a better—”
Princess Jessamyn let out a longsuffering sigh. “Are you still here, Micathea? Run along. I have many important things to do.”
Chapter Fifteen
Mica was surprisingly relieved to still have her assignment. She felt a renewed sense of purpose now that she knew the princess cared about the missing Talents—even though they were commoners. Jessamyn was certain the perpetrators weren’t connected to Obsidian, though she declined to share her reasoning with Mica. This left them to grapple with why and how an imperial subject would do such a thing.
Despite her misstep in the throne room, Jessamyn allowed Mica to stand in for her frequently now. She attended an elaborate feast in the huge circular banquet hall, and it was an effort not to stuff herself with the decadent foods Jessamyn would have taken for granted. She visited an orphanage in the city and allowed the little girls to play with her dark-red hair. She even flirted with Lord Riven in the conservatory while Jessamyn was dancing cheek to cheek with Lord Dolan in the ballroom. He didn’t notice anything different about her mouth.
The princess didn’t usually share how all these carefully orchestrated moments contributed to her plans, but Mica began to pick up hints about what the princess was trying to accomplish. Sometimes they even talked about it.
“You see Lord Fritz and Lady Lorna over there?” Jessamyn whispered to Mica as they rode down to the harbor the morning of the long-awaited cruise. The two youthful nobles were riding knee to knee, and they kept glancing at each other and blushing whenever their eyes met.
“They look sweet together,” Mica said.
“I know. It’s too soon.” Jessamyn’s lip jutted out in a pout, which Mica studied carefully. “I’d better see if Bellina can claim a few extra dances with Fritz on the boat, keep him confused.”
“Why? Fritz and Lorna seem like a good match.”
Fritz had an endearing, boyish charm, and Lorna’s buxom figure hid a wide-eyed innocent who loved animals and babies, no matter how fussy.
“They are,” Jessamyn said. “But while Fritz has been safely oblivious to her interest, Lorna’s father, the Lord of Silverfell, has been investing heavily in the merchants’ guild. He’s worried that if his daughter can’t secure a marriage to Fritz, he’s going to need an extra in with Lord Dolan as an alternative suitor for her. By the time our two lovebirds over there get together, I want Lorna’s father to be fully committed to supporting the guild regardless.”
“That’s . . . complicated.”
“In case you’re worrying about how it affects your precious Talents,” Jessamyn continued, “a stronger merchants’ guild is good for the Muscles and Blurs who work on the ships, not to mention everyone who eats from their shipments.”
“I know.” Mica ground her teeth at the condescending tone. “I care about people besides Talents.”
But Jessamyn had already spurred her horse ahead, squeezing in between Lorna and Fritz.
Shield guards held back the crowds as the princess and her entourage processed through the streets. Jessamyn had invited a select group to accompany her to the docks to review the final preparations for that evening’s harbor cruise. It was essentially a floating party, where the nobles would take advantage of the cool sea breezes and the gentle current to enjoy a night of drinking and dancing on the water. The clear, sunny skies that morning raised their hopes that the late-summer weather would be just right for a leisurely turn about the harbor.
Mica was impersonating Brin today, wearing her frizzy hair and frantic expression. The maid had taken ill thanks to the stress of planning the event. She’d been involved in so many of the preparations that Jessamyn needed Mica to speak to the various vendors as the handmaid to make sure everything was in order. The real Brin, with flushed cheeks and glassy eyes, had explained the details to Mica from her bed.
“You must make sure the evening goes smoothly,” she had pleaded, clutching
Mica’s hand. “The princess will be terribly upset if it isn’t perfect.”
“I’m sure it’ll be—”
“And don’t let anyone overcharge you. It’ll come out of my pay if she isn’t satisfied.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Mica extracted herself from Brin’s feverish grip. “You focus on getting better.”
The sea air rang with the shouts of dockworkers when their party arrived at the pier. Muscles were unloading cargo from a huge trading ship at the first mooring, the wooden dock creaking and groaning under their feet. Some sailors handed elaborately woven carpets from the ship’s deck to be loaded onto a wagon on the dock, while others rolled barrels full of Timbral wine past the princess’s entourage, not pausing to bow for the lords and ladies.
Mica and the others dismounted amidst the quayside chaos and walked past the trade ship to a pleasure barge floating at the next mooring. The vessel had a wide deck and shallow draft. A flat-topped cabin occupied the center, with a wooden bar running alongside it, where revelers could rest their drinks. A mast with a crow’s nest rose above that, built to provide views of the harbor, not to support a sail. The barge relied on oars for movement rather than the vagaries of the wind. A few workers were up in the crow’s nest now, stringing lights from the mast. Others were hanging banners over the sides, transforming the barge into a large colorful bird perched on the water. Several smaller boats waited nearby, younger birds in plainer colors, ready to transport the Shield guards and additional refreshments.
Mica worked to confirm that all the arrangements would go as planned while the princess showed her chosen nobles (Ladies Lorna and Elana, Lord Fritz, and the brothers Hugh and Hector) around the barge. Jessamyn had explained that the whole point of this morning’s excursion was to make these five feel as if they were part of her inner circle. She fully expected them to brag about it at the party, which would in turn make the rest of the nobles even more eager to get into her good graces.
While the princess was thus occupied, Mica spoke to the restaurateur from the northern tip of the crescent who had been hired to cater the harbor cruise, the musicians who would provide the entertainment, and the captain of the barge. The captain was a thin man of Obsidian origin who wore his long, pale hair pulled back in a ponytail. He seemed unsettled when he spoke to Mica, and she wondered if she’d executed Brin’s frazzled mannerisms a little too well.
“Everything is ready for tonight,” the captain said, twisting his pale hands together so the blue veins stood out on the backs. “You know I won’t fail you.”
“I just have to make sure everything is perfect for the princess.”
“It will be. You will never forget this night.”
“Good. Now, I must find the sommelier. Where is that man?” Mica hurried off, smoothing her skirt anxiously over Brin’s hips.
She found her way belowdecks, where rows of benches awaited the arrival of the oarsmen. Circles of light spilled in from the oarlocks, illuminating the cramped hold in patches. She found the barrels of wine and liquor that had been ordered for the cruise, but the sommelier was nowhere to be seen. As she turned to leave, a pair of men stomped down the ladder.
“Sorry, miss,” said the first (beefy arms, brown skin, jowls). “We’re here to move these barrels topside.”
“I’ll get out of your way.” Mica paused as the men moved forward. The second man, who had a long, crooked nose, was leaner and weaker-looking than the first, but both of them lifted fat wine barrels under each arm without straining. Muscles then.
“Excuse me,” Mica said. “Do you live around the docks?”
The beefy man dipped his head, revealing a thinning patch in his dark hair. “Aye, miss.”
“Have you heard anything about fellow Talents going missing around here?”
The two Muscles exchanged looks. “We’ve heard a whisper or two.”
“Do you know anything about the victims? Who they might have spoken to before they disappeared? Or if they had any enemies.”
The man with the crooked nose frowned, tightening chapped lips. “Why does a lady’s maid such as yourself want to know?”
“The princess cares,” Mica said. “Can we leave it at that?”
The Muscles looked at each other again. “Official story is the Talents disappear without a trace,” the beefy man said at last. “But that ain’t true. Some people have heard screams.”
“What do you mean?”
“They won’t say where, but word is there’s a street in the warehouse district where people hear strange noises. Anyone tries to report it, and they get a visit from the City Watch.” The man spat on the ground, making his jowls jiggle. “My mate got told the place has been investigated already and he should stop causing trouble.”
“Aye,” said the other man, “but the screams don’t stop.”
Hardly daring to breathe, Mica said, “Do you know where the warehouse is?”
They didn’t. Dozens of warehouses lined the waterfront, and they could only give her a vague idea of where the noises had been heard. Nevertheless, it was a solid lead.
“What about these visits from the City Watch?” Mica said. “Is it a specific officer?”
“I saw him once,” said the beefy man. “Once, after he warned my mate to let it go. Then I never saw him again.”
An Impersonator then. But how did he or she know to show up when people reported hearing noises from that particular street? Perhaps he was a real City Watchman who adopted different faces to deliver his threats. She wouldn’t put it past the noble conspirator to have lackeys among local law enforcement.
Mica thanked the Muscles for the information and climbed back out of the hold to rejoin her party, an extra spring in her step. This might be a breakthrough. She could begin searching warehouses that night, when most of the nobility would be busy on the harbor cruise. It was the perfect opportunity.
Unfortunately, Jessamyn had other plans.
“I need you to come on the cruise tonight,” she said as they paraded back to the palace so the ladies could dress.
“You said I’d have the evening off.”
“I’m not sure how you expect to save anyone if you’re not actually doing your job, Micathea.”
“I have a lead.” Mica abandoned Brin’s frazzled voice for a moment. “I wasn’t going to sit around and—”
“Your social life bores me,” Jessamyn said. “I have more important things for you to do tonight.”
A vein pulsed in Mica’s temple. Why had she thought her job would be easier now that she and the princess were working toward the same goal?
“As you wish.” She resigned herself to yet another night listening in on the nobility while she refilled their wine goblets. “I’m sure Brin will let me wear the dress she got for tonight.”
“You won’t be going as Brin,” Jessamyn said impatiently. “I daresay she’ll rally. In fact, I might gift her a potion from Magic Q to get her through the evening. She has so been looking forward to the festivities.” Jessamyn’s eyes went a little dewy, as if she could hardly believe how generous she was to her employees. But when she looked back at Mica, her gaze was sharp. “This cruise is one beautiful woman short of a real party. I need you to play that Obsidian lovely you showed me on your first day.”
Mica blinked. “The Obsidian—”
“You’ll be a visiting lady seeking better relationships with our fair empire. You just arrived in Jewel Harbor today, and I decided to invite you along on our little gathering.”
“You want people to see you encouraging better relationships with Obsidian?”
“It’s not about that. Keep up, Micathea. I wish for a disruption this evening. Several of the women believe they will be the prettiest one at the party—apart from me, obviously.” She nodded to where Lady Lorna and Lady Elana rode side by side ahead of them. Both ladies were drawing eyes, not just from the lords in their company, but from passersby on the crowded street.
“You must be more gorgeous t
han all of them, while remaining unattainable.” Jessamyn’s eyes blazed with some of her famous manic energy. “Enchant our lords and confound our ladies without presenting a real possibility for a future match. It will be utterly devastating.”
Mica was beginning to see where she was going with this. One of Jessamyn’s greatest sources of power was the fact that she hadn’t chosen a consort yet. She worked hard to keep several lords believing they had a chance with her, and she wasn’t afraid to use passion and longing to wheedle assurances of support out of her suitors. It made sense that she’d use the allure of a stranger to disrupt her rivals too.
“Do you want me to target anyone in particular?”
“Your presence alone will be enough for my purposes.” Jessamyn gave a wicked grin. “Oh, this will be fun! You’d best sort out a name and story for yourself. You know Obsidian well, correct?”
Jessamyn didn’t wait for Mica’s nod before spurring her horse forward to speak with her noble guests. In fact, Mica had spent more time studying the Obsidian political system than her own. She could easily come up with a suitable identity that wouldn’t give her away.
More importantly, Mica might be able to gather information tonight that didn’t involve petty jealousies. She’d play the exotic seductress, but she’d also observe whether anyone saw fit to approach an Obsidian lady for reasons that had nothing to do with her beauty.
Mica still couldn’t shake the suspicion that the Obsidian King had a hand in the Talent disappearances, despite Jessamyn’s belief that a Windfast noble was behind it all. Who else but the King of Obsidian would need so many Talents, dead or alive? Perhaps rooting out nefarious alliances was exactly what Jessamyn intended. It would be like the princess not to share her entire plan with the person tasked with carrying it out.
