I can’t afford to let our agent here out of the safe house, he’s too easily recognised and Ilumene will have people looking for him.’
‘Then an evening of drinking in Coin? That disguise would suit you better if you had a beautiful lady to accompany you.’
Doranei gave a noncommittal grunt. Even washed, shaved and dressed in fine clothes he hadn’t managed to attract the right friends in the cardhouse; bringing Zhia in would complicate matters in other ways. His usual method of intelligence-gathering - befriending soldiers, cooks and servants - had been precluded now a traitor comrade was overseeing security at the Ruby Tower.
He was hoping the merchants of Coin and the minor nobility of Eight Towers would tell him enough instead, but it was hard to lay the groundwork in fraught times like these, when he didn’t look like he belonged. Zhia did, but she wore a dark allure like a mantle, and Doranei was noticeable enough already.
‘Ashamed to be seen in public with me?’
‘Don’t be foolish.’ He kissed her, and added, ‘If you could make yourself look a little less beautiful, confident and terrifying all in one go, then I’d have no argument. But I already attract too much attention, and you, my love, you dominate any room you enter.’
She pulled his hand up to her lips and kissed his fingertips as gently as a butterfly. ‘You grieve for Sebe. When you drink, you glower, and frighten those around you. However delicate your touch, you still resemble a white-eye looking for something to kill; that’s what they notice in Coin.’
‘It isn’t so easy to throw off,’ he growled.
‘I know that, pretty one,’ Zhia continued in a conciliatory tone, ‘but it is a detail you must address. There’s enough grief around that folk will understand it. Wear something to explain your mood and their suspicion will be allayed.’
‘You think that’ll be enough?’
‘I don’t know; you won’t tell me what information you are seeking.’ There was an edge of hurt in her voice that made Doranei want to immediately apologise, but he suppressed the feeling.
‘Do we need to have this conversation again? I’m not your pet to be indulged, and we’re not on the same side in this war.’
‘Those are not sufficient reasons to mistrust me. I can provide you with a plan of the Ruby Tower, of the duchess’ security arrangements - whatever you want. Lady Kinna is still under my control, and her access is unrestricted.’
‘They are all the reasons I have,’ Doranei said, knowing he sounded petulant, ‘and besides, my orders are clear enough.’
‘Your king does not trust my motives; I understand that, but do you honestly believe I would give you false information or betray your plans to the shadow? Do you believe I would ever put you in danger?’
‘Zhia — Of course I don’t, but this is how things must be. Can we — ’ he broke off to stroke her back, and whispered, ‘Zhia, can we please talk of inconsequential things instead?’
She heard the tired edge in his voice and, knowing how exhausting an emotion grief was, she didn’t push matters further. Zhia gently kissed each of his callused knuckles before using his hand to cup her face. ‘As you wish, pretty one. We will talk of the children we will never have instead; of the life we will never lead. I require a minimum of two girls - I remember having a sister most fondly.’
‘At least two?’ Doranei winced at the thought. ‘Just one with her mother’s smile would be trouble enough for me.’
‘You would rule them without ever realising it,’ Zhia said with laughter in her voice, ‘as their father, the proud merchant, comes home after a long day to a great clatter of feet as his adoring women rush to greet him.’
‘Merchant? What would I sell?’ Doranei asked in surprise, unable to imagine himself doing anything so safe - or so legal. ‘My entire life’s been in the king’s service.’
‘This is the life we will not lead,’ Zhia reminded him. ‘Your father was a soldier in King Emin’s conquest, but he wanted a better life for his son and so he apprenticed him to a wine trader. You, in turn, are so filled with pride when young Manayaz announces he intends to join the Kingsguard, you cannot resist giving him your blessing.’
He frowned. ‘Manayaz? Even in your homeland, boys can’t have been called that since the Great War. Your father rather coloured most folk against the name.’