The Emperor's Wolves (Wolves of Elantra #1) - Michelle Sagara Page 0,61
which Cassandre had praised, “I could not serve you. My oath of service has already been given.”
“And if you were released from that oath?”
“How can one be released from oneself?”
Her brows rose. “Definitely everything in my power,” she finally replied. “Which is not inconsiderable.” Collecting herself, she returned her attention to Elluvian, as if Corvallan were no longer present. “You are aware of the identity of the man behind this series of murders.”
Elluvian nodded.
“And you believe my husband to be the person who pulled his strings?”
“Ah, no, you mistake me. I am blunt, Cassandre, but I am not—all courtly criticisms aside—a fool. I have come for two purposes. I desire information, and I wished you to be apprised of my concerns.”
“We are grateful for the warning,” Cassandre said softly. “Are we not?”
Corvallan’s eyes remained indigo. “The man of whom you speak has run errands for me before?”
“He has.” Elluvian rose. “It is not to accuse you that I have come. It is merely to gather information about this particular man. You obviously have little love for the Tha’alani—none of us do. But indulging that disgust in such a public fashion serves no purpose for you.”
Corvallan accepted a drink from the servant who, unlike Severn, remained nameless. His expression was now schooled in familiar lines. “I would need the name of the person you wish to interrogate.”
Cassandre’s eyes narrowed again.
“I will give it—but be aware, cousin, that his subsequent immediate death would not be to your advantage. His actions are, of course, not covered by the laws of exemption; mortals were involved in the commission of a crime the Emperor considers serious—two distinct races. The laws of exemption require both perpetrator and victim to be wholly and entirely Barrani.”
“He will not survive, regardless, if that is the case. The Barrani are not—are never—to be treated as mortal criminals are treated.”
“No, of course not.”
“You understand our laws, distinct from Imperial Laws.”
“Yes. But I—as every other member of the High Court—have sworn personal loyalty to the Emperor. His laws of exemption provide legitimacy to our laws. I do nothing here of which the Emperor would disapprove. Should the man involved directly in facilitating these murders die—and no doubt he will, after we have spoken—the Emperor would consider the death irrelevant.”
“And if he dies before you have spoken with him?”
“My investigation will, of necessity, become much broader in scope.”
“I am not afraid of you or your petty threats.”
“Cooperation does not, of course, imply fear,” Cassandre said, her tone once again a living expression of ice, “but a desire for privacy, surely? You must forgive us,” she added, speaking once again to Elluvian. “Only give us the name, and we will tender any information we have regarding his activities as it relates to other families, other lines. The list will not be complete; I am certain that your particular skills will in the end unearth more information—but perhaps it will give you a place to start.”
“It is more complicated than that,” Elluvian told her, voice soft. “The men executed to prevent incursions of the Hawks—or the Emperor they serve—are not usually lords of any of our kin’s courts in their own right. Were it a simple matter of servants and those who have not undertaken the Test of Name in the High Court, I would not be here at all. It has not escaped my notice that my company is considered, by many, a blight upon our proud heritage.”
Cassandre abandoned her chair, joining her husband. “Two decades past,” she whispered, her pallor washed clean of color.
Elluvian nodded. “You understand why the normal method of dealing with infractions is not perhaps available to us.”
She did. Corvallan struggled to put meaning to Elluvian’s words, and his realization arrived later.
“Does the Emperor know?”
“If the matter is resolved by the Barrani,” Elluvian said, evading the question, “it will be irrelevant.”
“And if it is not?”
“He will be angry. He does not play at games—not the games of our people—but we have long understood the importance of hoard to Dragonkind. The city, the Empire itself, is his hoard, and the value of the Tha’alani to the Imperial Service cannot be overestimated.”
“The name,” Cassandre said, her voice thinner, weaker.
“An’Sennarin.”
Silence. In its folds, Elluvian waited.
“Impossible,” Corvallan finally said. “An’Sennarin would not—has not—lifted a finger in any endeavor that would cause this political turmoil. He has no love of mortals, no love of Dragons, but there would be nothing to gain. He is aware of the exact boundaries of the protections the laws of