Cleon grabbed Lord Kiani by the shoulder. “Where is she?”
The man spun, face enraged, and upon seeing who it was, immediately created space while reaching for his shockspear. The room went still as everyone stood back.
“Stand down, Cleon,” Kiani said. “Don’t do anything you regret.”
“Where is she?”
Lady Catherine watched coolly from the sideline, her blue eyes glittering as she took a sip of her drink.
“I’m afraid you’re too late,” Lord Kiani said. “By several months, in fact. Had you not fled like a coward, you might have comforted your sister in her final moments.” He gave a sharp smile. “I’m told she asked after you.”
Cleon’s face had gone white. “Lynne . . .”
“Her life was not in vain,” Kiani went on, mercilessly. “She bore me a son. Healthy. A worthy heir to the Kiani estate.” Catherine’s face darkened at this, but Kiani seemed blind to it.
Cleon reached for his spear. “Her life was not an extension of your ego, Kiani!”
He shrugged, as if he had long put her out of his mind. “What can I say? Your sister was already quite weak. There was simply too much blood.”
The surrounding faces became horrified as these gruesome details were revealed, but Cleon and Kiani seemed blind to all but each other. The Sorceress-Queen now stood beside Lucian, watching on with the rest. Was this entertainment for her?
“Do something!” Lucian said. “Or I will.”
The Queen seemed to not hear as she continued listening to the exchange.
“I will not rest until I have satisfaction,” Cleon said. “Lord Kiani, Butcher of the Westlands, I challenge you to a duel! Your blood, or my blood, for hers.”
A collective gasp went through the crowd, even as the Butcher examined his fingernails. “Cleon, put aside these childish games. I haven’t the time for them.”
“Coward! This is no game. I will spill your blood before the night is out.”
“Not at my soiree,” the Sorceress-Queen said, finally stepping in. “I haven’t a ring set up because the table is in the way.”
There were several nervous laughs, but not enough to diffuse the tension. Lord Kiani released his hold on his spear, at the least. Cleon had yet to let go of his.
At that moment, Cleon’s eyes suddenly widened while his body went stiff. Fergus and Serah stepped at his side, pulling him back and away. Lucian went to help them.
“This soiree was designed to ease tensions, not inflame them,” the Sorceress-Queen finally said. “Guards! Stand back. There will be no trouble tonight, and if there is, let it fall on me to defuse it.”
When he reached the others, Lucian was surprised to see that Cleon actually was calm, his eyes becoming hooded as he sheathed his spear. Lord Kiani watched him with smug satisfaction. What was going on?
That was when Lucian noticed that Cleon’s eyes had a violet sheen to them.
“I think it’s time the entire delegation went back to their rooms,” she said. “Lucian, can you see it done?”
Her manner was cold, as if he had disappointed her in some way. Had she expected him to step in and stop Cleon from challenging Lord Kiani? That was probably why she had waited so long to do anything.
“We’ll take him back.”
The Queen nodded, and that was all the permission he needed.
They escorted Cleon away from the banquet hall.
40
Once they were back in Lucian’s rooms, Cleon was still in a stupor, as if drunk. But Lucian knew his state had nothing to do with alcohol.
“She calmed him,” Fergus said. “Quite brutally too, I might add.”
Cleon was leaning back on the sofa, his mouth hanging agape and his eyes blank.
“Will he be okay?” Lucian asked.
Fergus nodded. “It’ll take time for him to snap out of it, but yeah. He’ll be fine.”
“What’s her game?” Serah asked, kicking off her sequined stilettos and putting her feet on the coffee table. From the way she had balanced herself at the soiree, it was as if she had worn shoes like that her whole life. “Is she with us, or against us?”
No one had an answer for that. Cleon was just drooling now, his back swaying. Fergus kept him supported.
“Why would he make a scene like that?” Lucian asked. “I mean, I understand why. But so much is at stake.”
“His mission is not our mission, Lucian,” Fergus said. “He wants revenge on this Butcher fellow.”
Cleon groaned, seemingly trying to agree.
“We have to figure out our own game plan,” Serah said. “What happens if we actually get to the Orb? Does she really expect us to keep going along with her willingly? How does she force that, and what do we do when she does?”
Fergus shook his head. “I don’t know. I never expected us to make it this far, much more for the Sorceress-Queen to play this part.”
“She has her own plans for the Orb, and for us,” Serah pointed out. “Lucian, she’s trying to soften you up with all these clothes, soirees, and parading you around like some pet.” She gave him a pointed look. “And you better not be falling for it.”
“I’m not,” Lucian said. “I’m just playing along.”
“You better be,” Serah said, looking somewhat doubtful.
“We can’t let her drive a wedge between us,” Lucian said. “Can’t you guys see that’s what she’s trying to do? She’s testing us.”
“Okay, then,” she said. “So what’s the plan? Keep kissing her ass, then stab her in the back?”
Cleon groaned.
“I didn’t think the plan was that bad.”
“It’s not a plan,” Lucian said. “It’s just a gamble. We somehow need to get the Orb and get off Psyche altogether.”
Fergus and Serah looked at him blankly.
“But . . . no one leaves Psyche,” Serah said.
“I have a plan. I don’t know if it’ll work, but it’s the only thing I’ve got.”
“I’m all ears,” Fergus said.
“There’s . . . someone I know, who I’ve spoken with Psionically before. If she is who I think she is, then the
