Chapter 2 - Night Work

HOLDING the lightstone’s slim wooden handle between his teeth, Seregil wiped at the drop of sweat rolling slowly down his nose and glanced over one of the many letters they’d found in the duke’s private study, including a bundle hidden in a drawer with a false bottom. Archduchess Alaya, Princess Elani’s chief lady-in-waiting, was apparently a friend of the duke’s and not above sharing some interesting court gossip. According to the latest missive the vicegerent—the queen’s twin brother, Korathan—had taken another lover, young Lord Byris. A long time ago, Seregil had briefly held that honor. Korathan had always liked his bedmates young. In another, she spoke of a man named Danos, saying that the princess royal seemed to regard him warmly and looked forward to his letters.

Across the large study, Alec was a dark silhouette against the glow of his stone as he searched the racks of scrolls and books that filled two walls. According to the duke’s kitchen maid, whom Alec had charmed at the fish stall in Cirna Market earlier that day, their information had been correct: the duke was away visiting friends at a nearby estate, and was not expected back for several days.

It was well past midnight, but still so muggy that everything—the parchments, the leather blotter, Seregil’s thin linen shirt—felt uncomfortably moist. He’d pulled his hair back for the job, but it hung heavy against the back of his neck, making him feel that much hotter as he riffled through the rest of the letters. No breeze stirred the thick velvet drapes that framed the balcony door. The sawing of crickets was so loud it drowned out the sound of the surf against the cliffs below. It was starting to give him a headache. But he did manage to find one more letter of interest among those that had not been hidden. It was from Count Selin, who happened to be a friend of Alec’s. In the brief note, Selin thanked the duke for a night of gambling and a good supper and invited Reltheus to dine with him and his widowed mother the following week.

Alec was on the floor now, lifting the edges of the round wool carpet the desk stood upon. After a moment he let out a low whistle.

“Find something?” Seregil whispered.

“Hidey-hole, with a box.”

“Traps?”

“No.”