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A rough laugh sputters out of me.
She hasn’t judged completely wrong. That offer would matter to me more than money. But it sounds ridiculous to say that the baron’s residence is safe when I have a predator from it here in front of me. And?—
“The queen herself hasn’t been able to convince him,” I point out. “I think you may be offering a payment you don’t actually have in hand.”
“He’s known me for years. He only just met her. He trusts me with nearly every aspect of his business. If anyone can persuade him, it’s me.”
She eases even nearer with a confidence that suggests she’s sure of her success. When I retreat once more, her brow knits.
I pitch my voice as gentle as possible. “We’re happy and secure enough where we are. And I’m happy with the present state of my career. I won’t be taking any new patrons.”
Nasha’s eyes flash. She peers up at me with a sudden air of menace. “What if I put it this way, then: I’ll pay you by not seeing that the Order finds out exactly where that monster of a woman is hiding.”
A chill prickles over my skin. Truth rings through every harsh word.
She means her threat.
I study her even more warily. “That could be disastrous for your employer too.”
“I can make sure the information is delivered without any ties to him.” She tilts her head with a coyness that clashes with her attempt at blackmail. “Would it really be so horrible for you to tap into your talents with me, just this once?”
She isn’t an unattractive woman. Months ago, before I met Ivy, I wouldn’t have hesitated in the first place.
But now, the answer that peals through every particle of my body is yes. Yes, it would be horrible.
Not only because I’d be betraying the loyalty I’ve offered Ivy. My lover has never demanded that I abandon my trade.
No, I’d be betraying myself.
I am happy with who I am now, with how I’m conducting myself. With the ways I’ve used my talents and my devotion to my godlen that haven’t required me sharing the bodily intimacy I once did with anyone other than the woman who’s claimed my heart.
But what else can I do?
In a flare of desperation, I clench my teeth and push forward my gift. It feels like a hopeless gambit—Nasha has already told me very clearly what would make her happy, and it is technically something I can do—but I touch the side of my fist to my godlen brand and send a silent prayer to Ardone at the same time.
Show me a way through this.
A stream of imagery washes over me, and it isn’t the lascivious tableau I was expecting.
Oh, a few flickers of my body twined with hers brush past me—she does desire that quite a bit. But shining through them come other glimpses: of Petra crowned and beaming down at Nasha while I stand at the queen’s side, of Nasha looking down at a Melchiorek crest pinned to her vest.
Even more than she wants the pleasure I could offer her, she wants to please her future queen. To win Petra’s favor and maybe even join her chosen staff.
She just hasn’t considered that I could accomplish that much for her.
That doesn’t mean I would, not to the extent she dreams. I’m not saying anything on her behalf to Petra without mentioning the threats and the blackmail.
It simply gives me a point of leverage that never occurred to me either.
I pull my posture a little straighter, aiming for authoritative airs of my own. “Is that what you really want to risk everything on—a brief tumble in the forest? You’re clearly ambitious and clever. The queen trusts my judgment, you know. I could see that you found yourself in a position your former colleagues would covet for the rest of your life.”
There’s no mistaking the greedy glint that comes back into Nasha’s gaze. She wets her lips, the aggression ebbing from her stance. “Is that what you’d rather trade for?”
I let a smile play across my face. “I suspect it’s what you’d rather trade for as well. Why shouldn’t we both be happier with this encounter?”
“You would tell her—I give every task I’m assigned my all. I’ve never failed Baron Cyris. She could count on me for—for anything.”
The words rush out of her breathlessly, and then a hint of a blush touches her cheeks. She’s more embarrassed by her enthusiasm than how she attempted to force herself on me just moments ago.
