“Said the viper to the hawk?” Evrest bit out.
“Say the loyal subjects to their king.”
“Bullshit, the sequel.” Again, Jayd submerged it well below her breath—which did not stop Ev from firmly squeezing her shoulder as he spun and stomped back to his chair.
Her cheeks flared from shame. She was not helping anything with her running commentary, even at the sneaky volume level.
Ev proved as much with his visible tension. His shoulders strained at the confines of his shirt. He lowered back into his chair with the jerking doom of a felled tree.
“This matter is simpler than you think, Majesty.” Trystan Carris’s tone was still disturbingly diplomatic. “You have but to render a few defined decisions.”
“Which are?” Ev prompted.
The Pura bastard spreading his hands like a self-appointed messiah. “Well, now that all the facts are on the table…”
“You mean the bribery materials?” Jayd gritted.
“We all have a few choices,” Carris went on as if she had merely sneezed. “After all, the information we have obtained would be vastly interesting for the Arcadian people…”
“Then why are you not just doing it?” Another effort to tamp her temper was wretchedly unsuccessful. “What are you waiting for? Does it feel that good to stand there with your balls in your hand, or are you going to actually put the things to use and follow through here?”
“Highness!” Emme gasped.
“What?” Jayd darted a desperate look from her maid to her brother. “Is that not what is going on here? Majesty?” At least her formality got Ev to jog his head up. “These two are leveraging the hearts and minds of our kingdom. The people who have been through more than enough in the last two years!”
“Ah. An outstanding assertion, Princess.” Santelle was just as deferential as before, though the slick smirk he hooked on the end was already a red flag. But since Jayd knew not why, she had to let the man go on. “They have been through so much,” he asserted. “Scandals that have changed cherished traditions and then respected laws. Rogue terrorist groups inside this very palais, and then blowing up the Grand Sancti Bridge—”
Evrest grunted. “Rogues you know nothing about, of course.”
Santelle’s glower was brief before he pushed on. “After all of that, a medicane storm destroyed valuable land, beaches, and homes, which were already eroded after being overrun by film crews and—”
“Stop.” Jayd jerked away from Emme’s calm hold on her shoulder. “Just stop.” She stomped forward, coming level with Evrest. “Are you imbezaks honestly blaming the medicane damage on the select outsiders Evrest has allowed onto the island?”
“Select outsiders?” Santelle charged. “In the form of hundred-member film crews and Americans now betrothed to all three of our monarchs?”
And there was the bullet that silenced Jayd’s dispute. And her tongue. That happened when one was too busy gulping down bile. Our three monarchs. The man had already written her out of the Cimarron family succession.
Thank the Creator for Evrest and his growl. “Regardless of all your factual lapses, gentlemen, shall we return to the one reasonably verifiable truth of your narrative—as well as what you want for keeping it silent?”
“No.” Jayd rounded the desk and clutched a hand onto Evrest’s bicep. “No, damn it. There is nothing for you to discuss with these curs, brother. Let them go ahead and break their stupid story to the world. They only think they’re dealing with a doll here. I can take the backlash.”
Carris nodded with entirely too much deference. “Nobody is doubting that you can, Princess. But there are other layers to consider here.”
“Layers?” Jayd dropped her hand back to the area in front of her stomach. “What in saints’ name are you—”
“Can your brother’s credibility take that blow?” the sneaky prispoul insisted. “And not just His Majesty Evrest. What about Their Highnesses Samsyn and Shiraz? What will come of all the good work they are trying to do for your kingdom, especially right now? Samsyn is building and organizing our security personnel into an elite force. Shiraz is making smart alliances with contractors that will improve our infrastructure but not break our coffers. And this is all just the beginning—unless they are impeded by another kingdomwide crisis.”
She swallowed again. No bile slid down this time. Only pain, brimming up from the depths of her heart. It worsened when she dared a look at Evrest. He was grinding a finger across his bottom lip again. His forehead was like buckled concrete.
Damn it.
Ohhh, damn it, damn it, damn it.
The snake was right. And Evrest already knew it.
Nevertheless, Carris smiled wider before twisting his dagger deeper. “Your Majesty has insisted on adhering to the facts—and there is an unchangeable one right here before us. The Arcadian people have had a great deal of their world changed within the last five years. But so many new things at once…makes people unsteady. They seek what they can trust. They want to feel that when looking to their monarchy, as well. Monarchs who, like them, were born in this land. Who have a shared history here. Who cherish its treasures as deeply as they do.”
“And they do not believe we are that monarchy anymore?” Jayd did not try to hide the sorrow that seeped through her query.
If Carris was speaking but half the truth, it meant many Arcadians were not happy. That every development for which she and her brothers had worked—improved roads and harbors, national security teams, better plumbing and electricity, actual internet access—there were thousands of Arcadians who still craved an island with wooden wagons, primitive homes, and archaic laws.
“The Cimarrons are still adored,” Carris asserted. “And even grateful…”
“But?” Evrest inserted the man’s implied word.
“But everyone has been asked to readjust their lives—and their thinking—at supersonic speed. Many see that our new electronic wonders have come at a price to our landscape and resources. They view the American newcomers to the palais not as fresh young voices but as harlots who have bewitched their princes and usurped their daughters of rightfully deserved positions. Many even think Arcadia will become a US territory before long.”
Evrest’s nostrils flared. “Harlots?”
Jayd wanted to be mad too. Instead, she sputtered with half a laugh. “A US territory?” She tried to laugh again, but desperation was not a merciful master. “Do they think all three of my brothers to be dolts of that degree? That they would not have better judgment of their hearts? That they would not see through to a woman’s true character?”
“That would depend, hmmm?” Suddenly, the Belly-Crawler was inching back to true form—and Jayd felt like the skinny mouse in his hungry sights. “Because if we release the actual recordings, and your maimanne’s true character is made public…”
A pall of silence. Interrupted only by a slithering sound that Jayd swore was real. That she felt in every one of her vertebrae…
Until Evrest stomped back out from behind the desk.
He braced his stance wide. His shirt got tauter than before as he popped his shoulders back with noble pride. “My patience grows thin, damn it. State your compensation terms or get the hell out of my sight.”