The Queen's Line (Inheritance of Hunger #1) - Kathryn Moon Page 0,71
up at Scrapper. Who had told him to go through Sir Hubert's mail, and if no one, why hadn't I thought to earlier? I reached a hand out, and Scrapper raised an eyebrow at me.
"Are you going to let me read it?" I asked.
"Are you going to tell me to leave once you have?" Scrapper asked.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Scrap!"
He tossed the letter to the table, and I ignored the chink of metal sliding into Scrapper's pocket as I ripped the seal off.
"Oi! Be more careful. I always send them on their way once I've read 'em," Scrapper snapped.
I certainly accept the pause on my position, Lord Roderick. I absolutely understand the necessity of patience. However, if we know that the remaining queen's line is willing to cooperate, why do we entertain the girl? Surely something could be done about her sooner rather than later. I myself could find the necessary means to manage the problem if the royal guard or the crown itself shies from its duty. Ever your humble servant,
Sir Hubert of Scathe
"Bold, isn't it?" Scrapper asked.
My blood was iron in my veins. Bryony was Kimmery's one hope at a decent monarch, at a queen willing to listen to her people, willing to see them. And the council, or at the very least, Sir Hubert, wanted her out of the picture.
"Treasonous," I said, reading the words again.
The necessary means to manage the problem. The royal guard or the crown itself. That left Bryony with enemies at every side of her.
"Wasn't sure who ought to see it," Scrapper murmured. "Not with the way it talks."
I hummed my agreement, but the sound was low and feral. "Better no one for the moment," I said, reading it again. And then again. I looked up from the page at last and Scrapper was there, thoughtful and patient, and probably a good few coins richer for my distraction. He could take it from my cut. This was worth it. "What can you discover about the royal guard stationed at the Winter Palace?"
"Plenty," Scrapper said, wobbling with his crooked shrug. "I'll see who favors the council and who the crown and who is left."
"Good."
"We like her then?" Scrapper asked.
Why, all of the sudden, did it feel as though I was choking on my own tongue? "The princess?" I managed to squeeze out. Scrapper nodded. "We…we prefer her."
Scrapper's lips pursed oddly, his eyes widening too much. "I don't mind that. She seemed good folk. There was talk in court when she dropped by."
I nodded. "There was bound to be."
"And that talk spread through the city some."
"I take it there were objections to my meeting with the princess?" I asked.
"Some. I squashed most. Then they stirred up again," Scrapper said slowly.
I did not have a right-hand man. I had been my predecessor's until I deposed him, and it seemed to be tempting fate to take one of my own. But if I had, it would've been Scrapper. He didn't look powerful, and he could trick anyone—even me—into underestimating him. But even without the title or the respect he might've earned as my second, Scrapper was loyal. Surprisingly so, for a thief.
"Did you notice where it seemed to be coming from?" I asked.
"Far as I could tell, the news landed in Emory's lap and he seemed keen to let it swirl again anytime it could," Scrapper said.
"That's the second time someone's said his name to me today in warning," I said.
Scrapper grinned. "Three and it'll be bad luck."
"How many ears do you have?" I asked, grinning back at Scrapper.
He eyed the gold and waggled his eyebrows. "Might be enough to listen to the guards and our neighboring court. Might not be."
I scoffed and picked a short stack of gold coins, pinching them between my fingers and letting Scrapper count.
"Well," he said with a great and labored sigh. "It'll be thin and exhausting work, but I'll manage."
I laughed at last and shook my head. "Go and help yourself to whatever cook's done with Griffin's catch, and I'll hear no more about it."
Scrapper took his new gold and turned away from me with the tip of an imaginary hat. "Will she stay good, you think? Or go rotten like the others?" It was an aimless question and he was already on his way out, but the answer was on the tip of my tongue, pinched between my teeth.
She may save us, if we can rescue her crown for her. She'll stay good.