Flamecaster (Shattered Realms #1)(36)

“What do you think of Lila?” the king asked abruptly.

That was a loaded question if Destin ever heard one. “She’s been reliable so far,” he said. “She knows everyone at Oden’s Ford, and nothing happens that escapes her notice.”

“The war will not be won at Oden’s Ford.”

“Maybe not,” Destin said, “but the academy is a crossroads. Lila travels all over the Seven Realms, she speaks multiple languages, she fits in everywhere, and thus far the information she’s provided has been on the mark.”

“What is her reputation at school? Was she really as poor a student as she would have us believe?”

“She’s in Wien House, as you know. Tourant was her class commander, and he had nothing good to say about her. She’s been brought up before the deans several times. Tourant claimed that it’s only the drop in enrollment at the academy that has kept her from being expelled permanently.”

“Perhaps the girl cannot help it,” the king mused. “I’ve never believed that women are well suited for the military. But she also could be playing a part for our benefit. What do you think?”

“The military is all about rules, and that’s not a good fit for Lila. Besides, I think Tourant was a fool. We’re better off that he fell into the river before he could reproduce.”

The king threw back his head and laughed. “Ah, Karn, I have missed our conversations. It’s just that there are so many claims on my time.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“What’s the girl’s background?”

Destin realized that this was more than an interest in Lila—it was a test of his investigative skills.

“She’s a war orphan. She grew up in the Southern Islands, raised by an aunt. Then joined another aunt in a smuggling operation along the east coast. It’s a family business.”

“What is a smuggler doing at Oden’s Ford?”

“It seems that her family keeps sending her back there, hoping she can make good connections with high-ups in the military.”

“And so she has,” Montaigne said, “on your recommendation.”

“I interrogated her under persuasion when I brought her on,” Destin said. “The story she told checks out.”

“I do enjoy having her at court,” the king said. “She came to dinner last night, and had the entire table in stitches. Even Lord Matelon.”

“Lila is a reckless wit,” Destin said. “She says things other people think but don’t say out loud.” That was always a risk around the king. Montaigne found that kind of candor amusing—until he didn’t.

“I’ll need convincing that she can come through with the magecraft we’re needing. I don’t want an army of uncollared mages running amok in the empire.”

“I have people in Baston Bay, at Watergate, and in the Southern Islands,” Destin said. “I’ll see what else I can find out.”

Maybe Lila will be the king’s new protégée, Destin thought. The king had a habit of elevating commoners to positions of power at court. They tended to be more beholden and compliant than the nobility, who were used to wielding power on their own.

But would he choose a woman for his inner circle? That would be unprecedented.

The king had a habit of playing courtiers against each other. Perhaps it was nothing more than that. Destin liked Lila, too, but he didn’t trust her.

“Come, walk with me.” Montaigne led him out along the low stone wall that divided the formal plantings from the woods beyond. The trees blazed with color against the brilliant sky. The gardens were still overblown with flowers, their scent rank and overpowering, like the smell of decay.

The king walked on, moving delicately, like a deer picking its way over rough terrain. “Asters,” he said, sweeping an elegant hand toward some ragged pink and purple flowers along the flagstone path. He picked a few and handed them to Destin, who let them slip from his hand as soon as he could do so surreptitiously.

Destin had never known the royal gardens at Ardenscourt to be out of bloom. Violas had been his mother’s favorites. They were the only flowers he could remember the name of, though Montaigne always repeatedly pointed out and named the others.

Perhaps it was because Destin was always distracted in the garden, waiting to find out whom it was he had to kill.

By now they’d reached one of the many pavilions that studded the garden, overlooking a pool of stagnant water overgrown with grotesque plants.

“Sit with me,” the king said, settling onto a bench next to the wall.

Destin sat. And waited.

“You’ve been to Carthis, haven’t you?”

It was good that Destin was sitting down. The question came like a blow to the head, so unexpected that Destin might have stumbled on the path.

That the king had asked it meant that he already knew the answer. But how would he know? It seemed unlikely that Destin’s father would have told him.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I lived there for a time as a boy.” My mother and I were so eager to get away from my father that we sailed across the ocean, Destin thought. As it turned out, that wasn’t far enough.

“Tell me about it,” the king said.

As always, there was no telling what the king already knew, and what lay behind his questions.