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He certainly seems to believe it won’t. He must know by now of the pamphlets we distributed in Florian, promising that Princess Petra would be hosting her trials in the coming days, but the announcements in the nearby towns all still place Lothar’s on the day of Creadenala.
Whether because he can’t prepare it in time or because he doesn’t want to appear uncertain, he hasn’t moved his spectacle forward. He doesn’t think we could truly challenge him.
And he could be right. I’m not sure how we’re going to ensure Petra makes it through our trials without the scourge sorcerers finding a way to strike her down.
Those uncertainties are still twisted inside me when one of the baron’s other employees approaches. I’ve only seen her briefly during our time staying at his summer home, but I recognize her flaxen hair and dainty features from my frequent socializing in the royal court.
She’s someone high up in Baron Cyris’s retinue—a chief of staff of sorts, a go-between who ensures everything at the lower levels of his various estates is running smoothly. Nasha, if I remember her name correctly.
I don’t believe we’ve ever spoken before, and I’ve never gotten much of an impression of her one way or another. But something in her face as she looks me up and down puts me on guard.
She clicks her tongue. “It’s Casimir, isn’t it?”
I hide the apprehension I don’t totally understand behind a warm smile. “Yes. The queen asked me to?—”
“I know why you’re here.” Nasha glances around the clearing. “Have you already surveyed the preparations so far?”
“Yes. I’m waiting to advise on some additions the craftspeople will be making once a few more workers have arrived.”
“Then you can spare a little time.”
I do my best to study her surreptitiously. “I’m at your disposal. What is it you need?”
She flicks her hand toward the trees. “It’s better discussed in private.”
I let her lead the way, tension creeping through my limbs. For all the authority she exudes, she’s a slight thing, slimmer even than Ivy was when she first arrived at the college and a good head shorter than me. I’m not afraid she’d manage to physically harm me as long as I stay alert for weapons.
But I don’t know what gifts she has. I don’t know what she wants.
I shouldn’t be thinking like this at all.
I wouldn’t be, if her employer hadn’t set himself up as the enemy of the woman I love.
We tramp between the trees in the direction that takes us farther from the baron’s residence. The sounds of the construction fade swiftly, swallowed up by the magical protections around the clearing.
Nasha keeps walking, her head turning as she scans the forest. I’m not sure what she’s looking for, but after a few minutes, she appears to find it. She stops in a small glade where the sun streaks past the leaves and over a patch of pale grass.
She pivots to face me. Her gaze rakes over me before I can speak, as if it’s cutting through the woolen tunic and trousers I’m wearing.
Either my focus on the queen’s plans clouded my usual awareness or Nasha was being more subtle before, because I recognize the intent that gleams in her eyes now. It’s one I’ve seen dozens of times before.
There’s no hostility, only a glimmer of lust.
“I heard so many stories about your prowess in court,” she says. “I never thought I’d be able to afford you.”
My gut lurches. “I’m not currently selling my services.” Nor do I expect to any time in the foreseeable future.
She strolls closer, forcing me to back up a step before she can stroke her hand down my chest. She pauses with her lifted arm hovering between us. “You can’t be serious. Already hailed as the most skilled courtesan under King Konram’s reign before you’d even finished your education, and you’re abandoning your career?”
I keep my voice carefully steady. “I see it more as adjusting my focus. Ardone celebrates more than just carnal pleasures.”
Nasha hums to herself. “You’re still showing off those gaudy teeth. You were on your way to being the most renowned courtesan in history. Always bringing your patrons every pleasure they could have asked for.”
The rejection of that statement wells up inside me so fast I have to bite my tongue to keep from blurting out a simple, No! As I master my reaction, a rush of certainty follows like a gust of fresh air.
“No,” I say more calmly. “That was my mother’s legacy. I’m setting out on my own path, one that’s more suitable for me.”
Nasha takes another step forward, holding my gaze. “Then I’m asking you to make an exception. Because I can pay you now, in a currency that I’d imagine matters more than gold or silver to you at the moment. Give me a half hour with Casimir the courtesan—right here, as we are—and I’ll see that you and your friends, including the riven sorcerer, are allowed to return to the safety of the baron’s residence.”
