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A pause. “Valara Baussay.”
Ilse suspected the woman possessed quite a few more names. She had not admitted to a title either, but those omissions might be caution, not outright lies.
“You came from Morennioù. Are you a member of their court?”
Another pause. “Yes.”
Her tone sounded high, restrained. Nothing close to natural. But then, this was no normal conversation. “Tell me what happened between you and Lord Khandarr,” Ilse said. “Tell me everything. The truth, or I send you back to prison.”
Valara Baussay closed her eyes. The pulse at her temple and throat beat visibly faster. Arranging her lies? Reviewing a horrifying memory?
“It was Leos Dzavek,” she said at last. “He sent ships to invade my homeland. We have only a small army, and it’s scattered around our islands, but we do have guards at the castle. They were not enough. The soldiers took the castle and murdered my … murdered everyone at court. The king. His councillors. Everyone.”
“Except you.”
“I was to be a hostage.” Her voice sank into a bitter whisper.
“Why?”
Valara’s eyes opened. They were dark, so dark a brown they appeared black. Slight folds at the corner of her eyelids were like a brush from the artist’s thumb, softening an otherwise sharp-featured face. Again the similarity to Raul Kosenmark struck Ilse—the lines and angles an echo of those old portraits from the empire days. Valara Baussay was not a beautiful woman by ordinary standards, but hers was a face not easily overlooked or forgotten.
“He came for the jewel,” she said. “Lir’s jewel. He did not find it. So he left an army behind to savage the kingdom until he did.”
“And Markus Khandarr knows this?”
“No. But I could not risk his questioning me again.”
Ilse wished she could have witnessed this interview between Valara Baussay and Markus Khandarr. She wondered what had transpired afterward and what means Valara used to escape the prison. Too many questions. She could not ask them all tonight, only the most important ones. “Where is the jewel, then?”
Those bright dark eyes closed, and Valara’s face pinched in remembered pain. “Home. That is why I must go home. As quickly as I can. Don’t you see?”
Her voice broke on the last word. She was trembling. Not with terror, though. Valara Baussay was more than simply desperate. She spoke as though she were the only one who could save …
Ilse’s breath went still with insight. “You. Your father was the king. You are the heir. The queen.”
Galena made an astonished noise. Valara’s expression smoothed to a blank.
“It’s true,” Ilse went on, more confident now. “With you as his hostage, Leos Dzavek can threaten all of Morennioù until he gains the jewel.”
It explained so much. The mysterious fleet sent into the east. Their almost immediate return a few days after the first sighting. She rapidly reviewed all she knew of Leos Dzavek and Károvín politics. A strong king who held absolute control for four hundred years. A council fractured by that knowledge and their own agendas. She knew, with certainty, that Raul would have no success in forming an alliance abroad.
We must do the work ourselves.
She laid the knife aside. “I can help you. Galena, let her go.”
“No,” Galena said. “You can’t trust her.”
“Trust is a gift. You cannot ask a bondage price for it.”
Valara’s eyes blinked open, and she stared hard at Ilse. It was not a warm, open gaze. Those great eyes held secrets behind secrets. She will lie to me, Ilse thought. I cannot trust her at all, but I have no choice. I cannot allow Markus Khandarr to learn about Morennioù’s jewel.
“I have a friend,” she said softly. “A powerful friend. He has great influence in Veraene—unofficial influence. You must speak with him, and explain your situation. There is one requirement. He will want to know more about your connection with Leos Dzavek.”
Another pause. Then, “Does your friend want the jewel?”
Ah. Here was the heart of the matter. The truth was simple enough. Almost too simple for a royal princess used to the intrigues of court.
“He wants peace,” Ilse said. “Our king insists on war. The fewer weapons he and Leos Dzavek hold, the more likely my friend can achieve his goal.”
