Page 113 of Artemysia
“That won’t stop the threat,” he says calmly, promptly recovering from his surprise.
Aha! Threat? They have a Syf problem here too? I use this opportunity to fish for more information. Are we on the same side?
“No, it won’t, but it’ll give me a fighting chance. Have there been any sightings of Syf near the prince’s manor recently? We don’t get up-to-date news in the outer reaches where I’m from.”
“I’m supposed to confiscate weapons.” He unfurls a palm to collect my blade, completely ignoring my question.
“You can try, but my non-noble side knows my dagger pierces human skin as smoothly as Syf flesh.” I grin, so my words are equally a joke and a threat. “In fact, it’s not evenmydagger. I pulled it off a dead man on my way here. Syf attack, by the looks of it.” As she’d strapped it on me, Ivy casually mentioned she’d found her sharpest dagger in the heart of a dead, decapitated Syf, so it’s not a total lie.
My red-in-the-face attendant loses patience. Perhaps I’ve offended him. His softer accent changes, becoming coarser as his words spill out, emphasizing most of his vowels as long A’s.
“I’m not normally assigned to this idiotic butlering job. I’m a high guard, for god’s sake, demoted for the weekend. I could be training, or else I’m senior enough to get weekends off. Instead, I’m here. The security measures aren’t for Syf. They’re to prevent you guests from prying around the prince’s estate,” he scolds me.
I’ve exasperated him enough that he gives me the information I need.
“And why on earth would I pry? I was invited here to attend the prince’s coronation.” Now that I’ve got him talking, I feel bolder and use my captain’s voice.
“Don’t pretend you’re not here, as other guests are, in pursuit of secrets hidden in the manor. If not you, then your husband, certainly. The rumors abound. How the current king retains his power over his people. Many of the nobles here tonight believe his son should be replaced, and a stronger head of state should take the throne. But in order to do that, they’re desperate to figure out how the king is controlling the Syf.”
There it is.
“I don’t want to control the Syf.”
“Who wouldn’t want to?” He arches both brows, leveling me with a probing look. “For he who controls the Syf has an endlessly powerful army. Even you must know that.”
My blood suddenly runs ice cold.
Gregory goes on. “Pardon my language. But shit will go down this weekend, Marchioness, and I’m here to prevent it.”
“Ivy would be proud.” - Delphine
The dark, ornate walls of the bedroom close in around me. I believe I appear calm, but just in case, I swivel away from Gregor to focus on my trunk. I lift out a red dress and a folded soft case of jewelry the Syf packed for me. If only Gregory knew.
Secrets. Controls the Syf. An endlessly powerful army. But how?
“I don’t care who is in power, as long as Syf stay off my lands,” I say. Two days ago, this may have rung true, but now, with my new knowledge of the Syf, Artemysia, and North Kingdom, I’m thrust into much higher stakes involving more lives.
“You can remind your husband, then. Remain loyal to our king, and the Syf go elsewhere.”
“Elsewhere? Where?”
“South.”
“Why south?”
“You’re prying. I’ve already said too much, though it’swhat everyone here already knows, so you may as well catch up on the politics of those here tonight. Your dressing room is through that door.” He dips his chin in a brief nod. “You should find all you need. If anything is missing, I’ll fetch it for you.” His thin lips flatten into a firm line, and he steps back against the wall by the door.
I understand his misdirected hostility, so I don’t take his petulant behavior to heart.
“Well, I appreciate the correction. My husband doesn’t believe in discussing these things with me.” I retreat, pretending I have no further questions. I need to return to the ballroom as soon as possible to find Riev anyway.
He needs to know what I’ve discovered.
My petal-soft red silk dress fits comfortably. It hugs all my curves and ends in a gathered train trailing behind me. The back plunges down to my lower back, but the embroidered red lace on the shoulders covers my stitched wound.
I feel beautiful.
It’s fun to pretend I’m someone other than a soldier. In my normal life, I never have a reason to wear such a fine dress. I love it, and part of me could get used to this. The magnificent ruby necklace and earrings Elodie packed are the same poppy red as the dress. A ring of fire around my neck. In the mirror, the fiery gems appear lit from within, catching the light from the gas lamp sconces in each of the four corners of the room. I clip on the earrings because my ears aren’t pierced. The rubies bring out the gold in my eyes.
