Sweep of the Heart (Innkeeper Chronicles #5)(95)

“You’re arresting aliens,” Donna said in a small voice.

“Only sometimes,” Marais said.

Donna stared at him.

“Mostly I cite the law, threaten them with a really deadly gun, and then they go away. It’s very safe.”

Donna blinked and looked at me. “A deadly gun?”

“It vaporizes things. On a subatomic level,” he told her. “I’ll show you later.”

It was probably safe to smile now, so I did. “Gertrude Hunt is honored to count you among our visitors. Please make yourself at home. It’s a lot to take in, and it’s easy to get overwhelmed, so try to relax. You are safe here. Call my name if you need anything.”

A procession of servers carrying platters marched out of the kitchen, led by Orro bearing a mountain of doughnuts on a crystal serving dish.





I got out of the way and went to handle my other problems.





Amphie’s date with the Sovereign was the most tiring experience. She was supposed to have a date after Nycati, but Kosandion requested the switch, and after spending an hour in Amphie’s company, I could see why. He wanted to jump the biggest hurdle first. The second elimination ceremony was tomorrow afternoon, followed immediately by the Third Trial, which was why we were packing the remaining dates into today and tomorrow morning like sardines.

Amphie had chosen the gallery for her date, one of the pre-made environments I specifically created for the selection. I had taken a page out of every heist movie’s playbook and built a somewhat cliché museum room: large, with a high ceiling featuring a beautiful skylight, walls of frosted white glass, and a floor in a mosaic of creams and white. I’d pulled various alien items out of storage, arranged them on pedestals with some strategic lighting, and finished it off with a small vala tree.

The tree was a gift from Lord Soren, Arland’s uncle. I loved it to pieces. It was my baby, and I moved it from its special spot in the vampire wing and gave it the royal treatment it deserved: its own focal point directly under the skylight where its blood-red leaves glowed against its black branches. It grew from a patch of moist soil dotted with mossy rocks, with the traditional House Krahr stream winding around through a shallow streambed. The stream continued through the room, creating a natural separation between sections.

It was a serene environment, designed to inspire quiet moments and contemplation. Amphie attacked it like she was in a fight for her life. She steered Kosandion from item to item, offered a quick factoid about its function or origin, asked him a question, and then eagerly hung on every word.

About ten minutes into it, I realized it wasn’t about Kosandion. It was a performance for the Dominion’s citizens, designed to show off her comprehensive education and understanding of galactic cultures. Periodically, she would make a small joke, just a little wink that said, “Yes, I’m educated but aren’t I also clever and charming?”

It felt very A-student to me. As if she were called out by the professor to stand next to him in front of the class, and she was committed to proving to everyone that not only could she converse with him, but she could also impress him.

It was incredibly draining, and I didn’t even have to keep up my end of the conversation the way Kosandion did. I kept hoping she would run out of clever, but more kept coming and coming, until finally after an hour, she was forced to exit.

Now I was escorting her to her quarters through a long hallway, with Beast leading the way. Nycati was next. He had also chosen the gallery, and I would pick him up as soon as I dropped her off. Normally either Tony or Sean would’ve brought the candidate to me while I remained with Kosandion, but Amphie’s date was broadcast in its entirety, and they both had to babysit the delegations in the various dining halls.

Hopefully nobody would get poisoned this time.

I had sealed the gallery with Kosandion inside to give him a few minutes to relax. The inn was watching him, but I was still paranoid.

“How do you feel it went?” Amphie asked.

“It’s not my place to offer an opinion,” I told her.

“You are with him all the time. You’ve earned his trust. Does he talk about me?”

She was barking up the wrong tree. “Gertrude Hunt prides itself on confidentiality.”

Amphie’s eyes narrowed. The hint of a different person shone through, a driven, cut-throat woman focused on her goal.

“You sit in on their strategy sessions. There are no cameras here. Nobody would ever know if you chose to share a few drops of information. Help me, and I promise to compensate you. If I become the spouse, I will have unprecedented influence on the Dominion. You and your inn won’t regret it.”

I stopped before the door to her rooms. “We’ve arrived.”

She gave me a frustrated stare. “You truly don’t know what’s good for you.”

I flicked the door open.

“Will you tell him?” she asked.

“I keep the confidence of my guests. All of them.”

Amphie marched through the doors, and I shut them behind her. Beast woofed once softly by my feet.

“I agree,” I told her, and we headed down the hallway to Nycati’s quarters.

I never fully bought Amphie’s earnest act. Every selection candidate was extraordinary in some ways, the best each delegation could offer, and the Dominion was a place of nuance and political maneuvering. Amphie was projecting an earnest sincerity that bordered on naivete, which was absurd because nobody would send an innocent into this process. The preparation for selection began as soon as the Dominion realized that Kosandion would be able to keep his throne. Even if she had started as a sweet young flower, years of education and preparation would have shaped her into a clever, ruthless political operative.