The Alchemists of Loom (Loom Saga #1)(22)
The woman with midnight blue skin crossed over and knelt before her King. “Yveun Dono, you honor me by this invitation.”
“Do I?” The King rested his chin on the back of his hand. Leona remained poised at his side.
“I suppose only you can confirm that.” Petra stood before she was given leave to do so. It made the muscles around Leona’s claws strain against the skin, pushing out the razor sharp talons as far as they would go. “It isn’t every day I am summoned to House Rok’s most noble of estates.”
“Indeed it is not.” The King wasn’t handing Petra anything.
“Stunning, really. I can’t imagine how long its construction took.” Petra folded her hands before her. The woman clearly had no interest in the construction of the estate and its trimmings. The two House leaders were digging in their claws and waiting for someone to push hard enough to tear flesh.
“With a House as noble and established as House Rok, we can afford to take our time on things.” Yveun Dono’s lips curled into a snarling smile. “And how is your estate faring, Petra’Oji?”
“The latest revisions are coming along nicely, thank you.” She smiled widely, showing her teeth.
The edges of Leona’s lips parted, just enough to flash her elongated canines. She did not want to tolerate this eager upstart’s encroachment on her King’s honor. But she did tolerate it, only as long as Yveun Dono did.
“That is most excellent to hear.” Silence filled the room following the King’s statement. Leona watched it settle over Petra. It crept under the other woman’s skin, multiplying and manifesting until she had to speak.
“But that is not why you invited me here today.”
“It isn’t?” Yveun Dono rested his elbow on the armrest of the throne, looking bored.
“A letter, or a whisper, would have sufficed if you wanted to talk about remodeling.” Petra squinted her eyes, barely.
“Speaking of whispers, have you heard from your brother?” The King finally began to circle around his point like a carrion bird.
“You likely have more recently than I. Is he not your counsel on matters of treasury?”
Petulant child. Leona kept the thought to herself, barely.
“That is not the brother I am asking for.” The King sat straighter in his chair. It was a fraction of movement, but it betrayed his increasing impatience with Petra’s obstinacy.
“I didn’t even realize you knew I had a younger brother, Dono. You honor House Xin with this interest you have taken in us.” Petra lied through her teeth—teeth Leona fantasized about smashing with a variety of instruments.
“Where is Cvareh?”
“I believe he is still at the Temple of Lord Xin, praying to the Death-giver for wisdom of the ends.”
Yveun Dono was no more convinced by Petra’s lie than Leona was. “Does he pray often?”
“Only when he thinks he needs our House Patron’s wisdoms.”
“And how often does Cvareh need the guidance of the Death-giver?” Yveun Dono tilted his head to the side, just barely. “He isn’t renowned as being particularly ambitious.”
“Yveun Dono, do take care; that is my brother of whom you speak.”
“‘Take care’, Petra?” The King dropped all formality from her title. It was a pointed and successful jab on the King’s part, judging from the expression on the Oji’s face. “What exactly must I ‘take care’ of? I already care for our people, for Nova, for the misplaced masses in the land below the clouds. I take care of an astronomically large yet finite amount of resources to ensure there is more than enough to go around for both us and the Fen. I am mindful of the tax their irresponsibility has put on a world we now know we share. I oversee their guilds to ensure proper teachings. Am I not taking care of enough?”
Petra was silent, the most sense the girl had shown since the encounter began.
“Or must I also take care of your family’s fragile sensibilities as well?”
“I will look after House Xin.” There was almost a growl to Petra’s words.
“Will you, Petra? Or will your willing lack of ideals lead them to ruin?” The woman’s lesser experience compared to Yveun Dono’s was telling. A few words twisted around her House’s motto—ends before ideals—and she wound up so tightly that Leona could almost smell the quiver in her muscles. House Xin was too proud, too bold. “This is not about House Xin, Petra. This is about the good of our people, the longevity of our traditions, the eternity of our ways, the future of our world. A future we must pursue with no half measures.”
“No half measures,” Petra repeated the motto of House Rok. “It must be easy to say from where you sit when any half measure does not come off Rok’s measuring stick.”
The fruity taste of blood laced Leona’s mouth as she bit her tongue to keep from speaking. The King could defend himself; he didn’t need her to step forward and give Petra a verbal or physical lashing. But she still hoped he would ask.
“Careful, Petra.” The King would give no more caution than that. No matter how badly Leona suspected he wanted to be off with Petra as well, they couldn’t just kill another House’s Oji. There were rules to be followed when it came to duels. If they cast aside the foundation of their society’s hierarchy, they’d be left with the anarchy Loom experienced before Yveun Dono had begun to restructure it. “Now, I will ask you again. Where is Cvareh?”