Page 70 of The Thief and the Traitor Bride

But Gail was relaxed behind her, leaning against the windowsill, his arms crossed over his chest in the picture of ease. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize our travels would take us so far north.”

Nore only blinked at him, certain her brain was about to liquefy and leak through her ears. And worst of all: she could not say any of the things she wanted to. She could not explode at Gail for being both useless and a terrible spy. She could not be frustrated with Terlo, who had nothing to do with this. And she had no reason to be angry at Caspian, even though the weight of his hand on her was aggravatingly comforting.

She got up and set to pacing, her hands clasped behind her back. Her cheeks burned with annoyance that Caspian was right, yet again, about her lack of knowledge, but there had to be some solution here. “Okay,” she said. “But it’s an island, right? It has no walls—surely, we can commandeer some sort of ship and blend in with the tumult of the festival. They can’t screen everyone.”

“She’s not easily bamboozled, our tyrant queen,” Gail said flippantly. Terlo blanched—they probably didn’t like the use of the continental insult.

“You don’t have queens in Idistra,” Nore snapped. It was the closest she could get right now to airing her anger at him.

Gail bristled, looking away.

“It’s difficult to gain entry,” Terlo said. “But I would love to join you, if you had the means.”

Caspian looked unhappily at Terlo, then back at Nore, then to Terlo again. “I don’t know if that’s wise,” Caspian said. “What we’re doing may be dangerous. The High Lady has a reputation for ruthlessness, and she does not suffer directed attacks to her power.”

“But we’re not planning to attack her power,” Nore insisted. And there was that voice: You’re not, but what is Celestine planning? What else will Gail have you do for the good of Nestria? Why are you getting involved in any of this?

“It doesn’t matter,” Caspian said. “What we’re looking for is ancient and powerful, and probably buried on her Isle—and we intend to take it.”

“To study, I hope,” Terlo said, a mite nervously.

Nore ignored them. “She wouldn’t know,” she said to Caspian.

“She would. It’s not a big isle, Finch.”

Nore felt the frustration rising up inside of her. “She cannot know everything that happens on her Isle. And she cannot patrol every boat and every port. Surely, some on the Isle must wish her ill.”

“Perhaps,” Terlo said, “but that’s why she has the Viper.”

Nore felt her eyebrow rising, quite possibly without her directing it. She was unaccustomed to coming up against quite so much protest—and this was why she preferred to work alone. No matter how bad her ideas were, it was only her own skin on the line, and no one stuck their neck out to save her from herself.

And what was Caspian even doing? He knew he had to get the artifact for Celestine to pay him whatever it was he wanted so badly. If this was just a ploy to keep Terlo out of it, it wasn’t helping their cause.

“And what is the Viper?” she asked. She had heard of powerful rulers who had magical beasts at their disposal, but she had not heard anything like that of the High Lady of Locke—which, of course, reinforced how little she really knew about the High Lady. Just as they’d been able to turn an eye to Idistra, postreunification, Nore had been drawn into a trade war with Isbeta, and Celestine knew her strengths were best suited there. Anything to do with Idistra was given to other spies.

Nore wondered bitterly, both then and now, if it had anything to do with her personal ties to the Idistran nations.

Terlo leaned in, like they were about to tell a secret—a funny thing, that, since it was only Nore, Gail, and Caspian in the room. “They call him the Viper of Osar,” Terlo said. “They say he can kill with only a look.”

Nore turned on her heel to face Terlo. “Doesn’t a viper require a bite to kill?”

Caspian choked on a laugh, covering it with a cough. “Astute as always, darling,” he murmured when he recovered. They exchanged a glance, and Nore was annoyed to find herself again feeling the camaraderie.

Terlo continued as if Nore had not spoken. “His magic is poison, Ms. Gordon,” Terlo said. “But even he is not as frightening as the High Lady; if the Viper allows you to survive, it is because you have caught his attention enough to not just eliminate you. Because it would be more painful to face the High Lady herself.”

“But that is not something we’ll have to worry about,” Caspian said. “There’s no way we would be able to reach the Isle.”

Nore ignored him, turning back to her pacing. Perhaps this had been his plan all along: get them close enough to touch the bay, then fail in their mission entirely. Perhaps he’d spent night after night laughing at her, imagining this very moment of her failure.

“This festival,” she said. “What’s it like?”

A pause. Nore glanced over her shoulder. Terlo, sensing her agitation, hurried to reply, “I’ve not been myself but, uh, I believe it is… food? And soirees during the evening, if I’m not mistaken. Some performances, and audiences with the Lochan High Court—though, of course, that is, erm, sparse.”

“And everyone who goes is directly invited.”

“Every single soul, Finch,” Caspian said. Nore aimed a glare at the back of his head. He was definitely being deliberately unhelpful—probably as punishment for the fact she hadn’t actually accepted his proposal for assistance.

“Gail.” Nore turned on him, narrowing her eyes. “Were you invited?”