Chapter 28
The moment Gerard stepped into the private council chamber, he knew that everything he’d been told by the Queens of Villainy was true, and every nonhuman on the continent was in more danger than he could have imagined only a few days ago.
Otto, of course, was sprawled in the large, cushioned, and gilded chair that faced the iron doorway, while everyone else gathered around him in a circle of smaller, uncushioned chairs as supplicants in the windowless room.
The council members who’d already assembled were a disheartening assortment of spineless young flatterers and sycophants more versed in fashion than in government.
Clearly, none of them had possessed either the principles or the political power to protest the addition of one of the Empire’s most despicable figures to their circle.
The Imperial high priestess, who sat at her brother’s left hand, resplendent in her usual flowing robes and golden headdress, looked as serene as ever …
but as every voice silenced in the shock of Gerard’s sudden arrival, she caught his gaze and gave a miniscule tilt of her head, subtly directing his attention to that horrifyingly familiar new member of the council who sat directly to Otto’s right in a place of honor:
The lean and hollow-eyed fanatic who had become the official leader of the Purification movement, Feodor Rapenthe.
Despite appearances, the man had been born into the highest ranks of the aristocracy forty-some years ago, and Gerard was confident that he still possessed an impressive family fortune.
However, tonight, as had become his well-known custom, Rapenthe wore a ragged, floor-length, black tunic ornamented only by a plain length of rope that served as a belt around his gaunt frame, claiming the appearance of a poverty-stricken saint.
His flowing black hair was matted and uncombed, his beard reached nearly to his waist, and Gerard marked a glint of cold cunning in the man’s gaze before Rapenthe lowered his chin and gaze in a courtesy nod for the arrival of the Emperor’s high general.
The Emperor himself wasn’t nearly so restrained.
“Good gods, man! What did they do to you?” As Otto leaned forward in his throne-like seat, self-gifted military medals of honor glinted from the chest and shoulders of his padded, gold silk jacket.
Copper eyebrows rising high, he openly gaped as he looked Gerard up and down from stubble to stained uniform and muddy boots.
“Thank Jovar you’ve escaped! Apparently, my Golden Beacon really is unbeatable, eh? ”
Otto turned his head to gather the other council members’ reactions.
Most of them murmured in assent before he continued, “We’d all assumed you must be dead by now!
Whatever godsawful tortures those creatures inflicted on you, never fear, they will be punished for it.
That’s what we’ve all come together to act on tonight! ”
“Your Majesty.” Gerard lowered his upper body in a deep bow of respect and used that instant to regather his scattered composure after the shock of Rapenthe’s unexpected appearance.
Matters were far more advanced than he’d expected, even after the queens’ warnings—which meant that he had no time to lose.
“I beg your pardon,” he said calmly as he straightened, “but I believe that there has been a profound misunderstanding.”
“A … what, now?” Frowning, Otto sat back in his seat and tapped out an irritable beat against one golden chair arm with his heavily beringed fingers.
“A misunderstanding,” Gerard repeated. “As I made clear in the note I left for my men, I was called away on an urgent personal mission. No abduction was involved. I can assure you, there has been no torture.”
… Or at least, none that he hadn’t thoroughly enjoyed. Certainly, when Lorelei had used her powers to hold him down while she’d ravished him last night, he had experienced a few agonizing moments from not being allowed to touch her in return.
Still, he didn’t allow his lips to curve at the memory. A heavy silence had fallen in response to his words, and he could feel lethal peril hanging like an axe above his head.
Even Otto’s tapping fingers had stilled. Every member of the council but the high priestess froze, waiting with their gazes fixed on Otto’s rigid expression.
Finally, the Emperor spoke, his voice strained. “No … abduction, you’re claiming now?”
“No, Your Majesty. I did explain as much in my note.”
“And … you weren’t even tortured a bit?”
Gerard allowed a single eyebrow to rise. “Fortunately not.”
“But—Jovar damn all of this for a pile of bullshit!” Otto’s fist crashed down on the arm of his chair, making every other member of the council except his own sister flinch. “Fae magic was clearly identified in your tent and on that letter!”
“As you say, Your Majesty.” Hands clasped behind his back, Gerard held himself perfectly still in a relaxed but respectful pose, not permitting a single muscle in his shoulders to clench.
He drew on every decade of practice he’d had in keeping his true emotions from his face as he regarded his emperor.
“The mission was brought to my attention by a fae citizen who had been helpful to my work in the past and called upon me for urgent assistance in return.”
At that news, Rapenthe visibly twitched, upper lip lifting in a sneer above discolored teeth. The other council members glanced back and forth, wide-eyed, but didn’t speak. The high priestess continued to smile complacently, apparently unaware of the tension mounting in the air.
Otto’s face mottled with color as he squeezed his hands around the arms of his chair. “You … abandoned your post … to help a fucking fae?”
“A fae citizen of your empire, yes,” Gerard said. “It is my duty, as Imperial high general, to stand for all of your citizens in need, is it not?”
“It was your duty,” Otto snarled, “to get your arse back to Fiora to report to me about the total fiasco at the Kitvarian border, where you threw aside everything I’d planned and tried to turn me into a laughingstock!”
“Your Majesty?” Gerard tilted his head, careful to keep his tone mildly curious.
“I believe the newspapers have universally applauded us for our work in arresting the traitorous Chief Minister of Estarion, who dared to feed you such criminally false information about his archduke’s wishes.
Our army heroically freed Estarion from that corrupt, dangerous influence—and Archduke Felix himself informed me that our military support would not be needed after all, due to the newly peaceful relations between Estarion and Kitvaria.
There should be no more danger at that border, which is now thankfully secure in your keeping. ”
“I didn’t want it secure,” Otto gritted, “I wanted it erased—and you damned well knew that was the real goal, no matter what balderdash we had to feed the newspapers.”
“I beg your pardon?” Gerard’s fingers tightened in their clasp behind his back, but he kept his gaze steady and unaffected, the very image of an honest and straightforward soldier without nuance.
“I’m afraid I could only operate on the field under the orders that I had been given—and as you’d instructed me to lead our troops in support of the Estarian Archduke, I could hardly refuse to follow his command to withdraw our forces. ”
“Yes, well, Estarion’s Archduke has clearly been bewitched out of his mind by that harridan in Kitvaria!”
Estarion’s Archduke was undeniably head-over-heels in love with that so-called harridan …
but Gerard only said, “I assure you, Your Majesty, that no such magical crime has been committed. The captain of the elite corps of Gilded Wizards that traveled with my own soldiers confirmed that Archduke Felix is under no spell.”
The wizard had also revealed something far more startling about that same archduke’s abilities—but Gerard would not volunteer such a closely guarded secret of his own accord, and he’d commanded the wizard’s silence on the matter from then on.
Before Otto could argue any further, Gerard turned his gaze to survey the rest of the council chamber.
“I would happily answer any further questions from Your Majesty or my fellow council members, but…” His gaze landed, pointedly, on Feodor Rapenthe.
“I see a most untrustworthy visitor has intruded upon this meeting. As your loyal high general, I must strongly advise that we avoid uttering any more classified information in his presence.”
Shocked breaths hissed in response from council members around and behind him, but Gerard turned his expectant gaze to the Emperor without backing down.
This was a battle that could only be won by immediate and unqualified resistance—and while the rest of the council might prioritize their positions over their principles, Gerard had sworn an oath to defend the Empire and all its citizens. He would not betray it now.
In the corner of his vision, he saw Rapenthe close his eyes and begin to sway in a slow, sinuous, back and forth motion that had surely been designed to capture the attention of an audience, but Gerard held his emperor’s gaze and refused to allow the charlatan’s theatrics to distract either of them.
Otto’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “General de Moireul, you are apparently under a misapprehension. I invited Messer Rapenthe tonight myself, specifically to address the dangers presented to our empire in the light of your recent abduction.”
“In which case, he may rest easy in the knowledge that he is no longer required,” said Gerard evenly, “as I’ve clarified that there was no abduction after all … and therefore his ignorant, hysterical, and bigoted views won’t require any distasteful hearings in the Empire’s highest chamber.”