He was on his feet in a flash, heading toward the door, but once there, he hesitated. “It’s good advice, Marc. And given your own situation with Pénélope, you might want to take it to heart.”

Chapter 10

Pénélope

“The fruits of your intelligence.” My father tossed a small packet in the center of my plate, the cream sauce from dinner soaking into the paper.

It had been a handful of days since I’d told him that Marc was bringing in something illicit via the human traders, and my guilt over having betrayed his trust had grown steadily throughout. I’d tried to tell myself that I’d been doing the right thing. That Tristan was my father’s target, not Marc. That my success would benefit my sister. But no amount of rationalization had alleviated my feeling that what I was doing was wrong.

Trying to keep my heartbeat in check, I used my fork to flip through the contents, which were pictorial in nature, with only a limited amount of text. The print quality was poor, each page marked with identical streaks and flaws. The difference between using machinery and magic, and one reason why the Guild held their monopoly so easily. Only that which they’d refuse to print would ever be sourced outside of Trollus, which explained these. Inappropriate as they were, though, they were hardly treasonous. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed. “What the artist lacks in talent, he makes up for in creativity.”

“How do you know it’s a man?”

“It’s obvious.” Leaning back in my chair, I gestured at a servant to take away both plate and pamphlet. “I can only tell you what I learn, Father. I can’t make it useful. Not that this isn’t, in a way. It proves contraband can be brought in and out of Trollus.”

“I already knew that.” He circled the table to sit across from me. “Proof would be catching one of the traders with propaganda, not indecent representations of the Regent of Trianon commissioned by those idiots you call friends.”

Propaganda? I frowned, uncertain why he believed the traders would be caught with that, then shook my head. “This was for the twins?”

“They picked them up from the market. When they were searched, they claimed the work was to broaden the horizons of the more prudish citizens of Trollus, though no doubt it will form part of some larger prank.”

Vincent and Victoria’s pranks were frequent and memorable, but this wasn’t their style. Not in the slightest. “No doubt the end results will be quite amusing.”

He said nothing. Did not so much as blink. But the doors to the room began to shut. Slowly. One by one. Each individual lock falling into place under the firm hand of his magic.

“Do you think this is good enough, darling?” He rested his cane across the flat plane of the table.

My stomach hollowed, and it took every ounce of willpower in my possession not to shrink back in my chair. “There’s nothing else to tell. Maybe you’re wrong to suspect them.”