Chapter 18
In the golden light of her war room, Empress Alexandra Evior gazed over her grand table. The painted details of her empire stretched out before her, with several areas guarded by polished marble figurines. She ran her hand over the cold table, tracing the patterns, seeing a whole restless empire stir before her. Her hand brushed a lone figurine and plucked it up, inspecting it idly. Mayor Edwin Faraway. Her lip curled with a snarl and she set the piece back down.
Behind her, a cold wind rustled the folds of the drapery, white folds sweeping out into the room. She didn’t have to turn. In the corner of her eye a shadow stretched out across the floor, shortened, then she saw the new arrival. A woman clad in white, a hood low on her face. She pushed it back. The inhuman edges to her face bore the mark of her Fae heritage, framed by white hair pulled tight into a braid that gathered at the nape of her neck.
“Report,” said Alexandra, turning back to the table, her mind twisting with possibilities.
She didn’t like the unsettling woman and didn’t entirely trust the spy’s oath of loyalty. After all, if a Fae could turn against her own kind, what truly was the worth of her word?
The spy, known to Alexandra simply as, Aziah, moved to the opposite side of the table. “It is as you feared, Mayor Faraway has been in discussion with the high land lords; Lord Varda, Lady Eliston, Lord Warsan and his cousin, Sir Kimirick.”
The last name caught her attention. She looked up, startled. “Kimirick?”
“I noted his arrival at the city, along with the other lords. They enjoyed a meal together when word disrupted the dinner – a dragon sighting over the city. The mayor left the room-“
The shock of Kimirick’s possible betrayal dimmed as the blood drained from her face. Shock surged through her. Dragons? Ice trickled down her vein, as the old whisper of a witch’s voice stirred at the edges of her mind. She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm, focus on the problems presented before her. Firstly, the issue in regards to dragons, which stirred both a sense of panic and unease. Her iron belief that the dragons were deceased, or at least so far away that they posed no threat, was cracked and lay vulnerable. Did they know of her plans and, if so, how? A spy in her own court, one she hadn’t seen or paid off? Her mind churned. Then of the matter of the real and confirmed betrayals by her own nobles. She’d expected that – nay, she’d planned for that inevitability, though she’d prayed to the old gods that she’d never have to enforce her contingency plans.
She rubbed her neck, feeling the knots borne of far too much time at her war table. How long had it been since she’d indulged in a walk or something mildly relaxing? She dismissed the thought. There was too much to be done and she had to deal with the threats that had appeared. With a deep breath, her mind focusing on what was to happen, she looked up at Aziah.
“Confirm the rumours of the dragons and detail the level of the threat. Report to me as soon as you have what I need,” she ordered and straightened up. “That is all.”
“And what of the rogue nobles?” Aziah seemed curious, far too much for a spy.
Alexandra noted it with disdain and unease, suspicion gnawing. Rather than show her thoughts, she gave a savage smile, and her dark amber eyes caught the glow of her lanterns. Fire shone in her eyes.
“That is all, my little bird. You may go.”
Aziah bowed and spun back to the balcony, striding through; as she reached the railing, she burst into a blinding white light, which dimmed rapidly, revealing a small bird that launched into the evening sky.
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