Page 153 of Of Iron and Moonlight

Duncan shot Isander a look, breath still catching.

“Have you proposed to Mathilde yet?”

Isander laughed outright, then seemingly decided that was enough teasing. “Do you intend to tell the emperor about the message from the imposter baron?”

“I am not certain.” Duncan slowed to a brisk stride, expression tightening. “It may be information he needs, yet I do not fully understand it myself.”

They fell silent quickly as two guards passed.

At the final turn toward Wolmer’s study, they saw Valdir derDobroiov emerge from within, irritation plain on his face. He glared at them with open displeasure but continued on without comment. Returning to Kora’s bed felt dangerously tempting.

Gleister eyed them with mild disapproval before he bowed and murmured to the herald.

Duncan glanced at Isander as they were announced and decided to spare him the chance of running into Firrigan. Though he rarely spoke of or acknowledged his history with the Moonwarden, Duncan knew Isander had never fully recovered from the mark it left on his youth. “I’ll be fine on my own today.”

Isander immediately looked relieved.

“You’re late, Lemierre,” Wolmer said as Duncan entered. He looked up from a scroll, took in his unsettled appearance, and a knowing smile formed. “Not from sleep, I think.”

Duncan bowed, feeling heat climb his neck. “You asked for me, Your Majesty?”

Wolmer set the scroll aside and gestured to the chair opposite him. “Your letters of Norrelia were thorough,” he said, “but I would prefer to hear your impressions directly now that the wedding festivities are concluded. Oorlon demands we halt all iron production and distribution in exchange for the baron’s release?”

“Yes.” Duncan sat and rested his hands on his knees. “He did not state his full purpose, but the implication was clear. He also knew precisely where our largest mines are located.”

Wolmer’s expression shifted. “And your response?”

“That such a halt would fracture the Empire’s economy and lead to famine, turning the people against the crown.” Duncan’s mouth tightened. “He then suggested unrest might serve me—that it would present an opportunity for dukes to shift power.”

Wolmer clicked his tongue. “Moons curse the creature.” He rested his fingers against his mouth. “Then he must know too about the unrest surrounding my proposal to centralize legislation.”

“I believe he seeks instability,” Duncan said. “To weaken us first. Whatever follows will depend on that fracture, and what that will be, I can only speculate.”

Wolmer sat with that a moment. “There have been seasons in our history when fae enslaved humans,” he said quietly. “Albrecht, may the moons shine kindly upon his soul, believed they were once stronger than they are now. Perhaps we stand at the edge of another such season.”

“Oorlon has given no indication of that,” Duncan replied, though he suddenly felt cold. He paused, seeing an opening, and considered his next words carefully. “His terms for Pietre’s release expire this winter.”

Wolmer exhaled. “It does not matter. The chatter about Pietre the Plump has already faded from court. The man carries little influence. Oorlon will not receive what he demands.”

“Perhaps there is another offering that might temper him.” Duncan leaned forward. “As unremarkable as Pietre may seem to society, a concession might preserve diplomacy.”

Wolmer lifted a greying brow. “Did you grow fond of the man, Lemierre? Pietre sits well beneath your notice. A ruler must know what can be saved and what must be let go.”

“Then we differ in what we believe leadership is meant to preserve,” Duncan said, the firmness surprising even him. Then he fell silent, weighing how much to reveal.

“The matter is settled.” Wolmer waved the thought aside. “I will write to Oorlon and inform him that his demand is outrageous. If he wishes to pursue it, he may come here himself.”

Duncan held back a grimace. He would think of another way to help the young lad in Norrelia, if Wolmer would not fold. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

“You do have my thanks for your work in the northern fae kingdom,” Wolmer went on. “Now I have another task for you. Cassian has been more elusive than usual. I intend to implement my new legislation next month, and I need Ardor firmly aligned.”

“As soon as I conclude matters in Ardennesse, I will call on Ardor,” Duncan said, feeling a small resentment stir toward Wolmer he had not expected.

“That conflict has turned uglier than I hoped.” Wolmer rubbed his beard. “I hear you are close to reclaiming your territory. Kryovarre stormed in here this morning demanding I intervene.”

That snake. “We hope the war will be resolved by the month’s end.”

“Good.” Wolmer nodded once. “Lemierre has been steadfast in its loyalty, and I do not forget it, but I cannot stretch the Citadel across every squabble between my lords.” He leaned back in his chair. “Though I told Valdir the same this morning: I will not have two of my dukes absent from court this season over a border dispute.”