Page 61 of The Iron Dagger
Hara had no idea why they were suddenly talking about daughter-in-laws and children, but the mortification on Gideon’s face gave her an idea. It became clear to Hara as she watched Eleanora and Gideon continue to bicker—it wasn’t Gideon’s father who was pressing him to marry and sire heirs. She scrambled to think of a way to put Eleanora off the idea that they could be a match.
“How fortunate your friend’s daughter-in-law is,” Hara said wistfully. “I have always wished I could have children.”
Eleanora and Gideon stopped their squabbling as their attention snapped to her.
“Oh? And why can’t you, my dear? You look healthy enough,” said Eleanora, fluttering a tiny fan.
“I had quite a severe illness as a child, and my healer aunt told me that I would never be able to bear children,” said Hara.
“Oh, that is such a shame. With your caring nature, you would have made a wonderful mother,” said Eleanora, her matrimonial hopes visibly deflating. Then she hitched a smile to her lips and said, “But perhaps it is all the better. Children can be so vexing at times.”
Eleanora shot a glare at Gideon, who quickly turned his grimace into a beaming smile before hastily bringing his fork to his mouth.
“Let us change the subject,” said Eleanora, snapping her fan shut. “I hear you have joined the Recruiters! What an exciting line of work. Have you met any interesting colleagues?”
Hara told them about Tamsin and Dominic, and what the offices were like. “I met some members of the Research and Development group as well—Sarai and Melietta.”
Gideon froze beside her, and Eleanora gave a little cough.
“Do you know them?” asked Hara.
“Sarai Winthrope and her family are old friends,” said Eleanora primly. “I hope she is well?”
“Yes, quite well. She told me about her research—”
“Oh, Sarai, always with her nose stuck in books. She’s got the breeding and the beauty, but she wastes them buried all day in those dungeons,” Eleanora said, then she fixed her face into a kindly expression. “Not like you, dear girl. You are doing something valuable.”
Sensing that there was some bad blood between Sarai and the Falk family, Hara diverted them with more observations of the city and how different it was from Norwen. She would ask Gideon about it later.
Eleanora laughed and even touched Hara’s hand throughout their conversation, and at the end of the meal, she embraced her. Hara felt relief loosening the knot in her shoulders. Awkward as it had been, their introduction was now over.
Before she climbed into her waiting autocar, Eleanora grasped Hara’s hands in her own and said, “We can never repay you for what you have done for our Gideon, but I can promise you that you will always have a second home at our court.”
Gideon
Sunlight spilled across Gideon’s desk, half blinding him. For the hundredth time that morning he rubbed his eyes, willing the pounding behind them to cease.
The previous night, after making the unpleasant rounds to his lost men’s families, he’d finally told his uncle of Harris’ passing. His uncle had insisted that Gideon join him in sharing a bottle of his reserved vintage, and Gideon could hardly refuse. That had turned into four bottles between them, and now Gideon was paying the price.
He rose from his desk and yanked the window shutters down, dismayed that they barely muted the light. He hardly ever used his office in the palace, preferring to conduct his business in wood-paneled taverns where drinks and conversation were easy to come by.
But for this task, he needed privacy.
Hara’s comment about regular prisons being unable to hold magical prisoners stuck in his mind like a burr. He hadn’t considered it before now because in the twenty years since the coup, rogue sorcerers were rare enough that there were not enough to necessitate an entire prison. Recruiters had a high success rate at integrating witches into court. Few would refuse a life of comfort when the alternative was to be hunted and harassed. But for those who did refuse, where did they go? He had a feeling anyone from the Ilmarinens’ inner circle would be there.
Gideon leafed through a dry historial text on the coup. He’d never questioned Corvus and his father’s might and victory when he was a child. Everyone knew that the reason for theuprising was due to the royal family’s stubbornness. Their refusal to modernize made commerce stagnant.
Corvus was only a lowly tradesman, a weapons dealer who made his wealth selling armaments to the warring southern kingdoms. The Ilmarinen considered themselves neutral in the war that raged between Norwen and Lenwen, and they refused to expand the factories and bring work to the people. They lived in the palace like gods on high, refusing to trade or cooperate with neighboring realms while the common people festered with poverty.
With Gideon’s father’s help, Corvus was successful in ousting the Ilmarinen family and all who were loyal to them. They built more factories, dug more mines, and turned the city into a shining jewel unlike any other. Eventually, they even found a place for sorcerers at court. Now, Montag was the wealthiest kingdom in the region, stagnant no more.
But something did not make sense to Gideon.
The Ilmarinen were the most powerful sorcerers in the land with a dynasty that stretched back almost a thousand years, yet somehow, they were overthrown by two non-magical tradesmen and an army of rebels. Corvus had access to powerful weapons that could blast through even the fortified palace walls, but surely the Ilmarinens had put up a fight.
Perhaps Turnswallow and the band of sorcerers that joined Corvus’ cause were enough to defeat them. They were a formidable group, so it was possible.
Gideon closed his eyes against the searing sunlight. Despite her best efforts, Hara was still unable to decipher anything more from Turnswallow’s puzzling memory loop in the snow. Hara said that she tried searching through Tamsin and Dominic’s pasts as well and found that neither had been to any place resembling a prison, other than the inhumane holding cells in the Recruiters’ office.
