Page 63 of The Scarlet Star

Xerxes had made a practice of reading lips when he was eight—the day he began to suspect the Intelligentsia of working against his father. He never uncovered exactly what instinct it was that made him think such a thing. That had put his nerveson edge and made him suspicious of them ever since. But one could learn a lot when they could read lips from a distance.

“It’s Lady Estheryn Electus’s charity work,” someone said, snapping Xerxes’s attention from the candlesticks. He fumbled his pen—it flew from his fingers, rolling all the way down the table past every single Intelligentsia and councilman, the lead crumbling from the impact and leaving an ashy trail behind. Everyone leaned to look at Xerxes, to see what was wrong with him that he’d toss a pen in the middle of a meeting.

Xerxes cleared his throat and sat straighter in his seat. He didn’t apologize. He didn’t really want to be here anyway. “Carry on,” he said instead, waving a finger through the air.

The Intelligentsia who was talking—Soya—turned back to the councilmen. “Do you know what she asked the organizers this morning?” Soya went on. “She asked if we might provide a special pass to bring those obsolete First Temple priestesses here.Insidethe palace.” For a sage, the man was quite rattled. “Adriels! She’s asking us to commit a crime! What is a noble maiden doing hanging around Adriel priestesses to begin with?!”

Xerxes found a slow, terribly inconsiderate smirk spreading across his face.

“It’s her charity work, Soya,” Belorme said in a calm, articulate voice. “The organizers helped her choose it. I imagine she’s just trying to do a good job.” But Belorme clasped his hands tightly on the tabletop. The sight of it was glorious, and Xerxes sank in his seat a little, biting back another teensy smile that threatened him before all these people.

Xerxes couldn’t have asked for a better outcome for Ryn’s efforts than to bear witness to this meeting of frustrated old men.

The Intelligentsia switched to another topic, and Xerxes let out a long, loud, bored sigh. A few heads turned as he rosefrom his chair. “I have to get to Folke training,” he said. And with that, he headed away from the perturbed councilmen and Intelligentsia alike.

“Xerxes,” Belorme stopped him.

Xerxes.

Not ‘Your Majesty’ in front of the whole council. But ‘Xerxes’.

As though the King was still just a child. And now the council would see him that way too, due to Belorme’s apparent mistake.

“Perhaps you’d be better off if he was dead.”

“Will you turn away Lady Lis tonight? I hear you’re taking the maidens in now for overnight visits. At least, rumour has it you did last night,” the Chancellor said, and Xerxes’s skin tightened over his body.

Of course the Intelligentsia would have had informants reporting on his every move. He wondered if anyone had followed him and Ryn when he’d taken her to the tree. He wondered if the Intelligentsia knew he’d shown her that sacred place. He wondered how much he might give away to the council if he appeared rattled now.

Xerxes lifted his head. He turned, and he looked Belorme and the Intelligentsia dead in the eyes one by one as he said, “I did.”

“Ah. So, you’ll see Lady Lis then tonight?” Belorme asked. “I wonder if I should send Lady Calliope instead? She was quite devastated you weren’t feeling well the other night.”

Xerxes couldn’t stop his glare from cutting through the room toward the Chancellor. His tongue moved to shout at the man to stop meddling, to keep his thick, prying fingers to himself. But Xerxes had gotten used to biting his tongue, even if what he really wanted was to declare to this council that he wouldn’t entertain these maidens anymore—that they should all be sent away forever and leave him in peace.

Except for one. One maiden he needed.

Xerxes released a breath, knowing that Ryn was already in Belorme’s sights and would be hunted through the palace like an animal if Xerxes wasn’t careful. He’d resolved to try and treat all the maidens the same for the next weeks in hopes of keeping the Intelligentsia’s curiosity off her. But it pained him to think about giving his attention, his painfully forced smiles, and even his evening hours to theotherthree maidens the Intelligentsia had hand selected for him.

Divinities, he felt sick just thinking about it.

“Send her,” Xerxes decided, and a flicker of surprise crossed Belorme’s face. Xerxes turned his back to the sages and councilmen, letting them think whatever they liked about his decision. He cared not. This would not be his first time driving a maiden away. What should he do this time around? Would he let himself turn beastly? Would he tear the curtains and scare the maiden half to death? Would he tell her about his voices so she’d run from his room screaming? Would he pretend to be sleeping when she came in and hope she kept her greedy hands to herself?

What was her name again? Calliope?

Xerxes made a sound in the back of his throat. Even her name was hideously elegant, like a lollipop too sweet he wanted to spit from his mouth.

He marched to the Folke assembly room, and when he got there, he announced through his teeth, “Get to the yard, all of you. We’re going to train until we’re rolling in pain today.”

He’d torn his shirt off hours ago, too enraged by the heat to put up with it. Xerxes’s skin glistened in the early afternoon sun as he eyed the one Folke he had not faced off with yet; a pink-cheeked blond fellow. Xerxes hadn’t noticed him until now; he’d been acutely focused on tossing Folke to the ground—sometimes two at a time. They’d trained right through lunch, and it was clear some of the men were hungry.

Still, Xerxes marched across the yard and stopped before the blond fellow. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “I thought I gave you a job.”

The blond fellow stood a little straighter. “Well, yes, Your Majesty. But then you appeared in the assembly room and said, ‘Get to the yard,allof you,’ and I thought—”

“By the Divinities, I wasn’t talking aboutyou,” Xerxes said. “Has Estheryn Electus been alone all morning?”

The fellow appeared frazzled as he scratched the back of his head. “I imagine her guardswoman is with her.”

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