“The best way I could think of to do that was to paint you as a complete bumpkin, a bumbler, someone who couldn’t see past the end of his nose. It wouldn’t have done to show you as competent—or as compassionate.” He sighed. “So all my reports showed a Valdemar that was little more than one large farm, built on land that was too poor to support anything but grazing, with a few things, like the barges and the horses, that were useful but not vital to the Empire. And a Duke that was little more than a competent farmer with brilliance in just one thing: breeding beautiful horses, and breeding the Chargers that the Knights of the Empire need in order to play the role of Imperial shock troops.” Now he grinned wryly. “It did help that you put that face forward yourself, so the initial independent spies the Emperor placed in the Duchy to verify my reports told him exactly the same thing.”

Kordas scarcely believed his own ears. Oh Gods. We played each other. “You mean—all this time we’ve—?” he asked incredulously.

Merrin nodded earnestly. “You knew I was a spy, of course, like my father was. I knew you were too intelligent not to know. As was your father and my father before you, and his and mine before him. My own goal was yours—to keep your lands from being stripped of resources and people. And please believe me, I never wanted to find myself being presented with the Duchy as if it was a prize for good penmanship.”

Kordas fumed at that, and his mood instantly turned darker. “I want to punch you in the throat right now. So much.”

Merrin held up both hands in a surrendering gesture. “Please don’t. We both know Valdemar is valuable, but we managed to get the Emperor to think it is not. I think the Emperor’s so used to power struggles that he thought when I spoke approvingly about Valdemar—well, he assumed I wanted it. I didn’t ask. He just assigned me as the new Duke of Valdemar and—that isn’t something to say ‘no’ to. The Emperor said it was his plan at the Blind Feast for you to be done away with, as a reminder to everyone else of the ‘high standards’ he demanded. I begged him, Kordas. I begged him. To let you live—the Emperor wanted you to be in the Fights, and if you survived it, you’d get a Barony. I came a hairsbreadth away from the Emperor making me fight you, then. He went through so many cruel ideas, man, I must have looked as pale as beach sand. But I convinced the Emperor that you were not made for Court, but that you were a horse-breeding genius, and for that you should stay on as a lesser noble, because of your loyal service.”