eyebrowtwitched.
Basilard swallowed. The emperor recognizedthe name for a pseudonym and possibly knew Basilard had somethingto hide…. Curse Maldynado for picking out something silly.
“Congratulations on your victory,” theemperor went on.
The woman glided over to join them, andBasilard signed,
“This is Ms. Rockvic,” Sespian said, his facedifficult to read. “She’s…trying to find me a wife, I think.” Hearched an eyebrow at the older woman. Her lips thinned, but shesaid nothing.
Basilard exchanged concerned looks withBooks. Amaranthe would need to know about this new development.
Sespian blinked. “Yes, of course. Goahead.”
He paused so Books could translate, and hewatched Sespian’s face, trying to judge whether this was newinformation for him or something he was aware of and had dismissed.The emperor’s eyebrows climbed as Books spoke, and more than oncehe glanced at his chaperone. The woman’s face was closed and hard.If she
For the first time, Books edited thetranslation, leaving off the last few words.
“I see,” Sespian said through a tense jaw. “Iwasn’t aware of this problem. My ignorance is not an excuse, and Iapologize for the ruthless way you were brought to the empire. Iwill look into this slavery as soon as I’m able.” He glanced atRockvic, and his lip twitched in a brief grimace. He was being openabout his displeasure at having this companion. Was it possible hewanted Basilard and Books to know? That made no sense.
Sespian extended his arm and claspedBasilard’s hand. The action surprised Basilard because thestandoffish Turgonians did not make physical contact during theirgreetings. Maybe the emperor knew Mangdorian hunters claspedforearms as a gesture of friendship? But it was Sespian’s hand thatpressed against his, not his arm, and something poked intoBasilard’s palm. Paper?
When Sespian withdrew his grip, he left theobject in Basilard’s hand.
“Have a peaceful evening,” the emperorsaid.
Basilard pressed his thumb into his palm tokeep the object in his hand and dropped his arm to his side. Itfelt like a piece of paper folded numerous times into a smallsquare.
“I don’t know if he’ll be able to do anythingfor you right now,” Books said after the emperor had moved onto thenext group, “but perhaps someday. If not, maybe
Basilard barely heard him. He was searchingthe conservatory, looking for an empty but lighted place where hecould unfold the paper, but two soldiers were frowning in hisdirection. He ended up waiting through dinner and a theater showduring which university students reenacted some of the greatmoments from the Games, often with amusing asides. All too aware ofthe note in his pocket, Basilard had a hard time conversing orenjoying the festivities. He let out a deep breath when they exitedthe conservatory without any guards accosting them.
“Something wrong?” Books asked. “You’ve beenquiet all…”
Basilard strode toward a winding but litpath. Books hurried to catch up. When they were out of sight of thesoldiers, guards, and other dinner-goers, he stopped, finallyunfolding the message.
“What is that?” Books asked. “Did the emperorgive it to you?”
Basilard already had the note open, and,after another check of their surroundings, he held it out so theycould both read it.
No signature marked the page, but there washardly a need, not when the emperor had personally handed themessage to Basilard.
Books let out a low whistle. “This couldchange everything.”
“Yes, it could be a trap,” Books said,“designed to rid the empire of Amaranthe and Sicarius. For all weknow, that woman might have forced Sespian to slip this toyou.”
“Indeed so,” Books said. “Indeed so.”