Another extended silence. Jayd drew a blank on reading Carris. Not good. Because when a snake slithered beneath the rocks…
Within seconds, she understood the reason for those rocks. And exactly why Carris had been sent on this mission with Santelle at all. The younger man was indeed the snake, while Santelle swooped in as the crafty mongoose with the bitterer bite. All too experienced about it too. The man had, after all, sold his own daughter’s virginity to lift the family out of bankruptcy, a deficit caused by his bad business decisions and overreaching embezzlements. All those details clung to the forefront of Jayd’s mind as the elder courtier firmed his stance and pulled in an extended breath.
“Compensation,” he finally said, practically separating the syllables into words of their own. “Hmmph. Such a murky word, am I right?”
Evrest flared his nostrils. “You would favor bribe instead? That makes everything easier for me, Fortin.”
Santelle stiffened. “What if we would not prefer monetary offers at all?”
“And why was I afraid of just that?” Ev rumbled. Though Jayd darted a look at her brother’s profile, the precaution was unnecessary. She already knew his sardonicism was just a front. He was not joking about this—because clearly, neither was Santelle.
That was no help for her churning nerves.
Which raced faster, driven by a new—and awful—theory.
Which turned into the furious but desperate question on her lips. “So what are you after here, gentlemen?”
The demand she already flogged herself for vocalizing.
Because in so many ways, she knew it was the beginning of the end.
Hers.
Already, her eyes stung. She averted her gaze from Ev, refusing to let him see her stupid tears, but her stare swung to the worst place possible. The center of Trystan Carris’s quietly preening face. She fought back by hiking her chin and hardening her fear into fury. The cobra would never swallow her for breakfast. Or lunch or dinner.
The thick but brief silence was broken by Santelle’s calm but firm statement. “We have a few simple requests.”
Evrest grunted, and Jayd swore the sound had not changed from their childhood, when Samsyn paid her to eat his vegetables. Still, he muttered, “Go on.”
“Everyone knows that Orion Sheere has nearly both feet in the grave,” Santelle returned. “When the man finally passes to the Creator, you shall ask me to fill the extra seat.”
Ev spewed a dark laugh. “Despite the fact that you were ousted from the council in disgrace less than two years ago?”
“Folly for which I have publicly apologized,” the man countered. “Many times.”
“It completes Fortin’s redemption arc,” Carris offered with slick grace. “And if you present it as such, acknowledging that his wisdom and guidance have been missed on the council, you appear like the benevolent and forgiving monarch. Everyone wins.”
Ev twisted his lips again. Clearly, that line meant no more than its empty predecessors. Still, he bit out, “All right. But only after Sheere is gone and properly mourned.”
“Of course.”
Santelle’s posture eased.
Evrest’s did not.
Jayd barely tethered her wince. She loathed watching her brother struggle like this. He had made a deal with the devil and looked ready to throw up because of it—and it was because of her. All right, not directly. But he would not be in this position, filled with palpable agony, if not for her. And though they were not fully tied by blood anymore, Ev was still her beautiful, beloved big brother. Nothing would ever take that truth from her.
“What else?” Evrest prompted. Because everyone knew a bargain with a Beelzebub never stopped at one demand.
“If the high council votes to abolish a tradition-bound law, there will be a trial period for the people to adjust to said abolishment,” Santelle asserted. “After the year’s trial, the Arcadian people will vote whether the law will be permanently changed or reverted to its original.”
Evrest nodded. “Remarkably, that request makes sense. Done.”
Though Santelle murmured his thanks and loosened a little more, Jayd careened toward the opposite. Her belly clenched, her hands coiled into balls, and her mouth went dry. They still had not reached the end. She had streamed enough reality competition shows to know. The judges always saved their most destructive comments for the end.
“Wise choices, Your Majesty.”
Carris’s drawl confirmed her suspicion. The man was still too serene, too ready. The snake was still waiting, just under a giant fern.
“And your praise is premature, Carris.” Evrest eyed him with new intensity. “Because you are not finished yet, are you? Everyone wins, yes? Santelle is getting his council seat and his law reform. But what is the thing you want out of all this?”
By the time Ev finished the question, it was irrelevant.
Jayd already knew the answer. Every moment that went by, it stabbed deeper into her psyche. But not like the drive of a dagger.
Like the plunge of a snake bite.
And she knew.
The man did not want something out of this agreement. He wanted someone.
“Me.”
It tumbled out with more certainty than her next breath. She was that positive of its truth—yet oddly, that settled with its surety. Her belly roiled with horror, but her mind was centered with truth. It was the comfort she clung to while pivoting to face Carris again. His comportment was expected. Arrogant but sanguine. Unmoving but all-knowing. Everything she needed for affirmation of her assertion, though she forced herself to voice it anyway.
“It is me,” she repeated, raising her chin by another notch. “That is your ask, Mr. Carris. Yes?”
One edge of the snake’s mouth quirked. “You are an astute woman, Highness.”
“What. The. Hell?” Ev emphasized his snarls with a trio of brutal stomps, shaking every polished tile in the floor.
“Was the man not clear, brother?” Jayd swept around, hoping she did not appear as jittery as she felt. Thank all the stars in heaven she had been raised to hide every emotion behind a graceful shell. “But of course he was. You heard him. I am astute, Ev—likely because I can spot a snake even if he’s hiding in satin. That is what you meant, Mr. Carris, yes? That I can discern when a reptile wants to slither his way into the highest echelons of the palais? And is especially eager about it when offered such a fat branch to do so? Truly, a snake would be foolish to settle for slogging in the swamp at that point, right?”
The man continued to work his jaw around words that wouldn’t come. Under other circumstances, this would have been her chance for a savoring smirk—but these were not those times, nor that opportunity. As Carris kept indulging his wounded—and surprisingly sincere—scowl, Evrest’s outrage became a battering ram on the air.
“Let me be clear about this, you bonsuns. We are here to discuss the safeguarding of my sister’s honor, not the sacrifice of it. Especially not to a dickless Pura puppet!”
“Oh, dear Creator.” Jayd barely prevented herself from dropping her face into her palm. The urge was just as strong to use it across Ev’s face.
“Your brother is right, Highness.” All too quickly, Carris was back to his slick statesmanship—not exactly a soother for her nerves. “Clarity is a fine idea right now. So might I remind His Majesty that should the truth about his sister’s lineage be revealed, he shall be praying for anyone, dick or not, to accept her troth.”