As she was watching everyone mingle, she felt Devdan come up next to her.
“Since when do you plant yourself against the wall instead of mingling during a party?” Devdan asked, also watching the crowd with wary eyes.
“I just don’t feel comfortable pretending I’m enjoying spending time with a bunch of people who only wanted me here if all hell broke loose but otherwise prefer me at the outskirts,” MaLeila said dryly.
“There was a time when you wouldn’t have said that. That you would have went out there and tried to play the game even though you didn’t know you were playing it.”
“We both know that I realized what the game was and that I would never win it a long time ago,” MaLeila pointed out.
Devdan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the council. Then he said, “They’ve made you cautious. With good reason. Fucking snakes.”
“You sound like you’re upset about that,” MaLeila said.
“Just an observation. They have. If anything, this whole debacle with Tsubame has shown me you don’t trust as easy as you used to, except with Marcel. But your judgment is clouded with sex on that one,” Devdan added.
“Are you trying to compliment me or insult me, Devdan,” MaLeila asked.
“Sometimes the truth is insulting,” Devdan pointed out. “Doesn’t make it not the truth anymore.”
“You two are more alike than you let on,” Marcel said coming to stand with them. “Sitting on the wall being anti-social.”
“Being anti-social implies that there’s someone we have the option of being social with,” Devdan said.
“Touché,” Marcel said. “But you two are looking at everyone like they’re suddenly going to turn and attack you.”
“That’s actually a very possible scenario,” both MaLeila and Devdan said simultaneously.
Marcel raised an eyebrow at the two before he shook his head and said, “You two are strange. You were at each other’s throats a few weeks ago and now it’s all water under the bridge.”
MaLeila tensed and felt Devdan tense next to her at Marcel’s words. It wasn’t water under the bridge. They just knew how to stay afloat when there were more pressing matters that needed to be dealt with, but it would come back up when MaLeila began to let her guard down like she felt herself beginning to. When she started to get too close again, Devdan would remind her that no matter how calm things were or how close they acted, that the nature of their relationship was still master and slave. That’s why MaLeila was suffering through this party. As soon as she went home, she’d go into researching how to undo Claude’s binding and then… well MaLeila wasn’t sure what would happen after that, but she supposed that was the point of her undoing Claude’s magic to begin with.
“Well don’t you clean up nicely?”
MaLeila didn’t jump, though she wanted to when she finally noticed Tsubame come next to Devdan from his other side. She was looking at him appreciatively in his tailored suit, wavy hair tied back with a few short strands that Bastet couldn’t get to stay out the way hanging down the sides in random places.
“I don’t think Fathi would like you admiring another man, do you Tsubame?” Marcel asked.
Tsubame scoffed. “I’m not blind. I’m allowed to appreciate beauty when I see it.”
“Yes. But I would have thought you’d do so silently with the uncertainty of your position,” Marcel shot back.
“Well it’s a good thing Fathi doesn’t have super hearing, isn’t it?” Tsubame said before turning back to Devdan who had little interest in the sorceress openly ogling him. “Besides, we’re not married, he doesn’t own me, and undoubtedly he’ll be sleeping with the next odd pretty thing that catches his interest so I’m allowed to have my fun. Would you like to dance Devdan?”
“No thanks,” Devdan said promptly without looking at the woman.
Not put out, Tsubame said, “Maybe later then,” and turned to MaLeila. MaLeila tried and failed to meet the woman’s eyes, deciding to idly scan the guests once again.
“You didn’t come back and see me,” Tsubame said. “Were you busy?”
Busy avoiding the woman. Busy trying not to think how Tsubame had treated her ten times better than the council ever had. Busy trying not to resent that she could only get what she needed by playing nice with the council because otherwise she’d let Tsubame have her way with them because obviously the woman’s fight wasn’t with her.
“It’s been a long few days,” MaLeila finally said.
Tsubame nodded and said, “That’s true. But you really should come spend some time with me again before we part ways. I did enjoy myself.”
MaLeila made a non-comitial humming noise. Seeming satisfied with the conversation, Tsubame started to move away from them. But she paused next to Marcel, looking curiously at his next or something on his neck.
“What’s this?” she asked referring to the chain coming out the collar of his shirt. She reached up to grab it and pull out the entire chain causing the pendant that was the man’s family crest on the end to pop out and slide down the chain into her hand.
As she inspected it, Marcel said, “Have you no clue of the meaning of personal space?”
Tsubame continued to inspect the necklace, though a smile broke out onto her face, a twitching smile at that like she was trying not to burst out into laughter at a private joke.
Finally she let the crest go, allowing it to fall back on Marcel’s chest. Then she patted him on the chest and said, “Nice necklace,” before walking away, presumably to be at Fathi’s side again.
“So that’s why you’ve been acting so squeamish these last few days,” Devdan said as Tsubame sauntered away.
MaLeila should have known Devdan would notice her anxiety. He always noticed a lot more than he let on, most of the time humoring her into thinking she was doing a good job at hiding her anxiety from him.
“What did she say?” Devdan asked.
MaLeila didn’t immediately answer, because how in the world did she tell anyone that the woman was trying to recruit her.
“She wants me as an ally essentially.”
“Just like all the other magic families and the council want you as. Nothing new. There’s something else,” Devdan said.
It wasn’t until Devdan said it to her that MaLeila realized he was right. This wasn’t the first time someone wanted her to be an ally or wanted her at their side to help them because of her power. There had been the Magic Council on behalf of the various magic families, and even the Long’s despite how close she was to Irvin. Then again, maybe it was because being an ally had been the wrong word. Ally implied a partnership or someone who simply helped someone else in as goal that wasn’t really theirs. The woman had specifically used the word prodigy. It was a word that implied a lot more than alliances, and it was also a word that no one ever used when trying to persuade her to their side. Not to mention, most people were at least subtle about it, but Tsubame had been abrasive and cocky like MaLeila’s agreement was an eventual inevitability.
“Tsubame just has a way of saying things that make you think they’re more than what they are. You shouldn’t worry about it. Treat her like you treat everyone else who’s ever come to you with that proposition,” Marcel suggested.
MaLeila guessed that would be easy enough if Tsubame treated her like the other families and the council did, with grudging and condescending acceptance that whether they liked it or not MaLeila was in their league, at least in terms of power, and that they may as well get something out of it. But Tsubame… It was as though the woman admired her. The woman’s flattery while deliberate hadn’t seemed forced.
MaLeila opened her mouth to say that when Devdan said, “You know. It seems like every time we have something to say about Tsubame, you’re ready to defend her.”
“Defend her?” Marcel asked, turning to look at Devdan.
Devdan continued staring into the crowd, and MaLeila wasn’t sure if he was purposefully not turning to look at Marcel
or if he really was observing something. It was another one of those things that was hard to know with him.
“Every time someone gets upset or worried about something Tsubame has done or did, you deflect it, like there’s nothing to be worried about that a sorceress who dropped out of a portal, can summon sandstorms, and has in no uncertain terms decided she plans to rule the world is obviously putting out feelers to test what buttons she should push and how to get an edge to guarantee that she gets what she wants,” Devdan pointed out.
“That’s because she’s hardly been a real threat. If she wants to be the wife of a subpar sorcerer and dictator, let her. Give her what she think she wants and she won’t ask for anymore. She’ll be content.”
“Except I think we all know a little country in the Middle East isn’t the world Tsubame had in mind,” Devdan pointed out. “She’s far from content. She’s just bidding her time. And you’re helping her stall.”
MaLeila had been around Devdan long enough to know when he was about to lose his restraint and pull a gun on someone. It was that calm decided look in his eye, the way his arm relaxed unassumingly at his side to keep people off their guard so they wouldn’t realize he’d pulled his gun until he pulled the trigger.
“Marcel,” MaLeila said, purposely grabbing onto Devdan’s right hand. He could certainly shoot expertly with his left hand, but his right hand was the one he usually used first. “Marcel, I think Devdan needs a little air. People make him agitated.”
Devdan looked away from the crowd to glare at her, but MaLeila pointedly ignored him and begin to pull him towards the exit. He didn’t resist, which only meant that he wanted to talk to her alone anyway. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have gone anywhere and MaLeila would have just had to hold his hand the whole time regardless of what anyone thought about it.
They were just in the hall, the door hardly closing behind him when Devdan said, “Marcel knows Tsubame. She’s the fucking girl that he grew up with.”
MaLeila laughed. “Devdan. Are you serious?”
“Yes. And you haven’t noticed, no one’s noticed, because you and Bastet are too busy watching Tsubame instead of everyone else.”
“Devdan,” MaLeila said, all traces of amusement at him gone. “You’re overacting. And if I didn’t know any better. I’d say you were fucking jealous.”
Devdan paused to stare at her, pressing his lips together like he always did when he was about to lose all patience with her. Finally he rolled his eyes and said, “I can’t believe I have to explain it to you this way, but maybe it’ll get you to understand. You know how you and Bastet like to joke that because you’re both women you know how other women operate, so you can supposedly tell when a girl is hitting on me no matter how unassuming she is?”
MaLeila did distinctly remember the conversation not to mention the fall out between her and Devdan that followed and not because he didn’t believe her when she said the new young teacher, who had long since left for a better job, was trying to seduce him but because—like always their petty arguments—became it personal.
“Yeah. I remember.”
“Well the same goes the other way around. I understand things about other guys that you won’t get simply because you’re not a guy. And Marcel knows Tsubame. More than knows her. He’s too comfortable with her forwardness not to know her. He’s too dismissive of her like they have some kind of intimate understanding,” Devdan explained.
“Devdan.”
“I get that you think I’m an ass sometimes. And I’ll admit that’s true for reasons you’ll never understand…”
“Because you won’t give me a chance to,” MaLeila cut in.
Devdan continued without pause, “But a few months ago, you said you trusted me and I know now you aren’t so sure and I’ll also admit that’s partly my doing too, but whether it’s authentic or caused by this fucking binding, you know when it comes down to it you know I’m the one you’ll call first to protect you, even before Bastet. So trust me to protect you now, even though you haven’t realized you’re in the middle of a conflict much more dangerous than you realize.”
It was the most open and passionate MaLeila had ever heard Devdan speak, which was what clued MaLeila in that he wasn’t being jealous or and ass or trying to have her while keeping her at a distance at the same time.
“What do you want me to do?” MaLeila asked, the words falling from her mouth without thought.
Devdan paused, eyes darting away from MaLeila and then back to her before he said, “Talk to him like you talk to me when you think I’m not being completely forthcoming.”
MaLeila’s mouth fell open slightly. She had been under no illusions that Devdan didn’t know she knew how to read him as well as did, that she weighed his every word and threw it back at him. That’s why he rarely had long conversations with her or why they fell out because she pried into the wrong (or right) topic. MaLeila just thought he’d never admit it aloud.
MaLeila stared at him, trying to figure out how to answer him, aware of his proximity to her, their aura’s pulsing against each other as they had now invaded each other’s personal space. She opened her mouth to reply, but it was forgotten upon hearing a commotion in the conference room.
Without hesitation, MaLeila and Devdan made their way back into the room walking past all the occupants who were looking on at the scene that had captured the room’s attention and had the Magic Council and the respective families suddenly speaking in hurried whispers to each other.
MaLeila and Devdan stopped upon seeing Bastet who had her hands pressed against a fallen Fathi’s chest, hands compressing back and forth. Next to her was Tsubame who was staring down upon the scene with a glass of wine in her hand and a blank expression that MaLeila might have pegged as shocked if she thought the woman could be shocked by anything. Bastet paused to look back at everyone and shout.
“Well don’t just fucking stand there. Call whatever the hell you’re supposed to call to get an ambulance or doctors here in this damn country.”
And all hell broke loose.
19
Tsubame wasn’t surprised that often. It was because of the lack of surprise in her life that she often got bored and stirred trouble or challenged herself to see how long and in what ways she could take over another world. So any time she was surprised, whether it was a good surprise or a bad one, she couldn’t help being pleased and amused because it was nice to be taken off guard for once, to have to think on her feet. And that was exactly what happened when one moment Fathi had been talking to her and the next he was turning a shade of gray, blue, and purple that she didn’t know humans could turn. He promptly fell on the floor. In the next moment, Bastet came barreling through trying to keep Fathi alive and then Devdan and MaLeila pushed through the onlookers. She stared in stunned silence at the scene before remembering she had a part to play, and seeing that a delayed reaction would be suspicious, she decided the stunned, frozen, shock while hold her glass would be her reaction.
Even as the paramedics came, she continued to hold her drink and because technically she was just a mistress, she wasn’t allowed to ride to the hospital with the paramedics. Then Fathi’s guards barred her from going, telling her that she was now confined to her room with her maids. Tsubame figured no matter how shocked she was, the guards expected their commander’s stubborn mistress Nadiyyah to fight back. And so Tsubame snapped out her stupor and did, boldly arguing with them, voice filled with not entirely feigned righteous anger just not at the fact that someone had poisoned Fathi and more at annoyance that she was being told what to do. In the end, she ended up back in her room with her maids. They fussed over her until she snapped at them to leave her be and when they left, she promptly closed the door to her room and locked it.
Finally alone and not having to worry about acting for the crowd, Tsubame was able to think. While tonight’s events had caught her off guard and surprised her, she would certainly be able to use them to her advantage. It was like something out of a
movie, a typical one at that. The diplomats gather together and someone poisons an important person while their guard is down. It was so predictable that it was something Tsubame hadn’t expected. She had expected something more subtle, something a lot more careful, something that could just be chalked up to an accident, something that might take a little longer. It was because of this that Tsubame knew this wasn’t the work of the council or even of the powerful families. It was too messy, too sloppy, too obvious. And if they wanted to risk something like that, they just would have sent another bomb to attack them. Not to mention something as reckless as poisoning Fathi could potentially give Tsubame a reason to unleash her magic on them, potentially exposing the magical world, something Tsubame was sure they feared more than not knowing Tsubame’s full potential. That meant it had to be someone who didn’t take all those things into consideration, someone with nothing to lose politically or economically.
All the evidence thus pointed to the fact that it was an inside job, done by someone Fathi trusted. The sloppiness also suggested a personal vendetta. Something that was just another job for a trained assassin would have been much more skilled, because ultimately they were like ghosts, unable to be seen or caught and if they were, unable to be blamed. They would have been a lot more creative, like making the man have a massive heart attack in his bed so it looked like he died of natural causes. An assassin also would have made sure he was dead instantly, with no hope of revival.
It couldn’t have been the guards, at least not who put the poison. It meant that they would have had to have access to the kitchens and the drinks and that was a woman’s job in their culture. The guards could have been accomplices but they certainly hadn’t done the deed. That left only Tsubame’s maids. She dismissed most of the younger ones immediately. They were too scared and too faint of heart to do something that may potentially kill someone. That narrowed it down to three of her older maids. It was motive that determined the potential killer.
The Immortal Queen Tsubame: Awakening Page 19
