either.” She frowned. “Why do you think the former Terafin would have rejected such a request?”
Haval pinched the bridge of his nose. “While I understand it has been a very trying day for you, Jewel, I feel that the answer to that question is beyond obvious.”
Finch very carefully studied her hands.
“Finch,” Haval said. She looked up. She seemed very shy and retiring, but her expression was steady. Given time, Haval thought he could make something of the girl; given Jewel, it was a pipe dream. “Please answer the question.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, and then glanced at Jewel. Jewel nodded. “Jarven does as he pleases. In the past, that has always worked well for the House—with one or two exceptions. He is observant, and he is adept. He gets what he needs, and he gets what he wants—usually by obfuscating what he wants. But he doesn’t, as Lucille is wont to say, play well with others.
“He has power. If Jarven decides that he wishes to hamper any member of the House Council, the Merchant Authority is his weapon. He has done it in the past, at least once. Putting him within reach of the governing body of the House would not gain The Terafin anything.”
“You see?” Haval said to Jewel. The implication was clear in his tone.
Jewel, however, refused to play. “Gabriel asked that the Council seat be given to Jarven. I had hopes for it, otherwise, but to be fair, Jarven is unlikely to occupy it for long. What did you ask of Jarven?”
Haval raised a brow. “I believe the delicate machinations of investigation were to be left in my hands.”
“And I believe that reports were to be tendered to me upon request. Gabriel’s acquisitions do not flow freely through the Merchant Authority—that I’m aware of. Those that do are a matter of House Business and House records.”
Haval cast a baleful glance toward the door, and Ellerson approached with tea. Haval considered adding brandy to the liquid and decided against it. “They are.”
“His personal affairs are not.”
“No. But the banking is done through similar channels. Jarven has access to most of the merchant banks, and it is a friendly—and in some cases obsequious—access. Before you lose the temper that is rapidly fraying, Terafin, I will trouble myself to point out that it was not I who approached Jarven.”
“Jarven approached you.”
Haval nodded.
Jewel’s gaze swiveled to Finch. Finch was silent. “Why,” Jewel asked her, “did Jarven approach Haval, and not you? You’re the most certain conduit to me, and Jarven is well aware of this.”
Finch said, clearly and distinctly, “I don’t know.” The question did not please her, in Haval’s opinion. When she lifted her chin, she looked straight at Haval. “But I believe Haval does. As it is not the information one would normally hand a clothier, we must assume that Jarven knows something we don’t.”
“Perhaps he is aware of the role I now play as Jewel’s adviser.” It pained Haval to say this.
Finch met his gaze and held it for a long moment. “That makes sense, given Jarven.”
Haval nodded.
“But, given Jarven, it makes too much sense.”
“My dear,” Haval told her, “it is a small marvel to me that you are trapped in the Merchant Authority. You are, of course, correct. There is some history between Jarven and me, and it is complex, and better left entirely unspoken. I understand why he approached me with information about Gabriel’s personal accounts—and no, Jewel, Jarven does not consider Gabriel the hand behind the assassin. He is, however, a cautious man; he allows for the possibility.”
“I don’t,” Jewel rather predictably said, tightening her grip on the armrests.
“Understood. I would have more to say about this, but if you have accepted Gabriel’s hasty retirement, you understand the political cost, regardless.”
She said nothing. He judged the whole of the day in her pinched expression. She was not—yet—at her limit, but she now trod the edge of it. Exhausted, she lacked rudimentary caution, and the subtlety that the political arena required quickly passed beyond her. “If you wish it,” he said quietly, “I will speak with Jarven.”
But Finch rose. “No, Haval.”
He raised a brow.
“I will speak with Jarven.” She paused, her expression shifting into almost open anxiety. “Jay? That’s all right?”
Jewel hesitated again, and then nodded. “I’d rather he speak to Haval, but I don’t think he’ll give Haval much.”
“I am not incapable of—”
“You’ll notice things. He’ll notice things. I think there’s a better chance that he’ll actually talk to Finch.”
Haval raised a