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"Take this back to the council," I continued, leaning back far enough to prop up my shined black books on the corner of the desk, right in the crook of a virilan's neck craned to face our visitor.

"Let them know I already have a bridal candidate in mind and will not need assistance with planning the coronation or wedding.

I also want a written report of your exact conversation with my father the night before he was found dead.

You will have a moon phase to put it right here.

" I tapped on the desktop with a finger. "That's fair, isn't it?"

It was just enough of the truth to not cause me to inflict self-harm. If my research proved fruitful, I would have more of an idea about a possible bride. One with fiery red hair.

No one knew of my ability to separate lies from truths.

It was a subtle skill, one not easily sensed by the temples or guildmasters when I was presented to them as an adolescent on the cusp of maturity.

To say my father was disappointed at my apparent lack of magic was an understatement.

To the world, I just seemed to be an incredibly astute and observant person.

The sensory responses I experienced when presented with falsities were a huge part of how I’d managed to place myself in such a strategic advantage after Father's death.

"That's… fair." Ittman finally managed to find his voice.

He rose on obviously shaking legs and gave a shallow bow.

Insulting to anyone else of the royal family, but I couldn't care less as long as he got out of the study quicker.

"Thank you for your time, Your Highness.

I will deliver your request to the council and report back within seven days. "

"Excellent," I murmured to his retreating back, watching him scamper away and slam the door needlessly hard behind himself. "Run along to your master and lead me right to him."

There were many cogs in movement now, and one wrong move would have me crushed between the gears in this machine of betrayal. Or I could take down this manipulation machine entirely, and from its rubble build the country I believe Respar could be without all these broken cogs.

“What had Ittman running off like his ass was on fire?”

Beolf slouched in the chair opposite mine by the fireplace, swirling a glass of goldtine. His trimmed black beard—just barely growing in since he shaved for his infiltration of Pid’s guards—covered most of his lower face, but the twitch of his lips into an amused smirk was obvious enough.

“You saw him?”

He barked a hearty laugh. “Hardly! He sprinted out of this room so fast his feet hardly had traction against the floor. It reminded me of the time I let Behar out on a frozen lake for the first time! He even tripped going around the corner toward the grand hall.”

“I wish I would have seen that in person.”

“Me too. But I have something else that needs your attention, beyond Juril acting like you lit him up.”

I lifted my own tumbler, encouraging him to continue.

“Guildmaster Nebold has threatened to issue a warrant for that woman we ran into. Haron Val Toric? He says she is a danger to society. In his statement, he claims she is too dangerous to employ, so he will not be able to facilitate a contract for her employment as part of your staff.”

It hadn’t even been one whole moon phase, only six days after my visit to the guild to request her on retainage.

Either Nebold didn’t do a good job presenting the offer, or he didn’t even try.

I placed my bets on the latter. It was interesting he only threatened, and didn't follow through with the warrant.

“How so?”

Beolf leaned to the right, resting his head on a fist and watching the goldtine swirl in his glass.

“Apparently, she is an abomination to the natural order of magic, in his words. She is extremely powerful for a female practitioner, and Nebold is afraid she is out of control. I suppose what we witnessed yesterday was the tail end of a conversation regarding her staying in line with the guild’s rules. ”

A smirk crept onto my face thinking about the scene from yesterday. “She did seem quite fierce. Not something you normally see in a Resparian woman.”

“For good reason,” he snorted. “You weren’t there to see her bring back a fucking corpse and maul people with it!

I still have nightmares about that night in Pid’s study.

He’s a slimy bastard, but I may be agreeing with him on this one.

Haron could be a real threat if she’s as strong as he says.

Is that someone you really want to have lurking in the halls? ”

A twinge of guilt stabbed my stomach. I hadn’t disclosed the real reason I wanted Haron under contract. He was under the same assumption as everyone else that I wished to employ her to investigate the suicides of Father’s closest attendants. He didn’t know they were not, in fact, suicides at all.

I wanted Haron under my control to prevent her from outing my secrets.

I couldn’t afford to have anyone who was able to resurrect Father to confess how he actually died, if he was even able to speak on it.

Honestly, I had no clue how speaking to spirits worked, or how much they were able to divulge.

What I do know is that, if anyone were able to find out, it would be the renowned lady necromancer.

There were plenty of those who practiced necromancy who faked what Haron could do, but they were not a concern.

Keeping my finger on Haron's pulse would ensure no one else used her against me.

“Does he have proof of his claim? I doubt a necromancer who can raise one body would be much of a challenge against a cavalry if it came to that.”

Beolf’s eyes shot over to me, narrowing until the chocolate color was almost entirely hidden.

“Why does it seem like you’re protecting this woman?

You know as well as I do female spellcasters are unstable.

They don’t have the constitution to deal with wild magic like men do.

They’re too emotional and erratic to control such an unruly force.

And a female necromancer, on top of that?

Women are meant to create life, not reanimate the dead.

They belong in the healing sectors, if that.

Your grandfather was right to set up the decree to regulate women in magic professions.

It has probably saved countless lives, stripping magic from those who couldn’t be brought to heel. ”

“Haron didn’t strike me as unstable. Just extremely pissed off.”

Beolf looked at me as if I’d grown two extra heads. “Were we looking at the same woman? She was absolutely feral! Did you see that man’s hand? It will never work the same!”

“The healer was able to restore it just fine. And she did tell him to take his hands off her.”

A long, awkward silence fell between us. “I’m wondering if she hadn’t put some kind of hex on you, Irin. Since when are you such a staunch supporter of female spellcasters? They’re fucking insane if you ask me.”

I snickered. “I’ll be sure to tell the next healer you said that, as she’s busy reattaching your arm from whatever battle you drag yourself out of during patrol.”

Beolf scoffed but had no remark to say beyond another swig of goldtine.

“In response to Nebold’s request, let him know we will be looking into Haron’s background.

He will need to send substantial proof of her instability before we take any kind of disciplinary action against her.

And I will not accept no for an answer in regard to drawing up her contract.

I have a great need for a necromancer of her skill. ”

“As you wish.”