House of Sand and Secrets (Books of Oreyn #2)(78)

“Like the spyhnxes,” I whisper to Harun.

“He also proposes an area of land to be used as a reservation, with strictly controlled hunting seasons.”

“He can’t,” I say wildly to Harun. Yew said something similar when I saw him with Carien, but I had assumed he was just trying to get a reaction from me. They can’t be serious. The vampires look like us.

They look like us.

How does any one of these men think they can simply hunt another man down like an animal? My stomach is aching, my mouth dry. This is worse even than I had supposed.

The Mata pauses in his reading to snort in dry humour. “A fair enough suggestion, although I would amend that any ‘proposed reservations’ would not be public property but fall under the jurisdiction of your ruling House.”

There is murmuring among the lords, but no one seems alarmed or outraged by the suggestion.

“A simple vote then.” The Mata nods at his secretary. “Those in favour?”

All around us hands are raised, and a murmured chorus of ‘ayes’ rings in my ears.

“And against?”

In the silence that follows, I raise my hand. Next to me, Harun does the same.

“Guyin. How good of you to deign to come to Lords’ Council. So, two votes against.” The Mata sucks at the corner of one fingernail.



“It needs to be unanimous, and even that pompous shit can’t change those laws,” Harun whispers to me, his voice warm with relief.

Eline stands. “With respect, my lord, I move that neither of those votes be counted.”

“And why is that?” The Mata still seems bored by the whole proceeding.

“House Pelim’s representative is a woman, with little understanding of politics, easily swayed by her superiors.”

“Agreed,” says the Mata. He looks down at his secretary. “Strike Pelim’s vote.”

I go cold. My hand is still raised, wavering, and I feel like I cannot move it. I knew. Of course I knew. They have never respected me, or found me anything more than an amusing entertainment. All this time I have been a mouse, pretending to be a cat. So easily they bat me aside, and my true status is revealed.

With my insides filling up with stones, I lower my hand. Everything around me feels unreal, voices echoing. Harun’s vote is all we have left.

“And the Guyin Harun is only the heir apparent. He cannot stand in for his father’s vote.”

“My father is too ill to travel,” Harun says. “And I vote on his behalf.”

“Then you carry his official seal?” Eline says.

Harun is silent.

“Fine, then I move that Guyin Harun’s vote has no weight.”

The Mata frowns. “Tricky. He is still the heir.”

“And are we to now let our children upstage us in the Council? Vote against us?” Eline turns a calm face to Harun. “I know which way the Lord Guyin himself would vote, as do we all. He would not be standing now.”

The lords mutter in agreement. I grow colder, my hands numb, until it feels like the flesh is gone from my bones, and I am made only of air.

“Calm yourself, Felicita,” Harun says very softly, and covers one of my hands with his own. The warmth flows through my skin, keeping me from fainting.

“Then it looks as if our vote is unanimous-” The Mata narrows his eyes. “Lord Ives, what is it?”

I turn my head to see the head of House Ives standing, one hand raised. “I vote against House Eline’s proposal.”

The room is silent, then one of the older lords guffaws, amused only that House Eline has been made a fool of. The laughter provokes more, and Eline Garret’s pale skin goes an angry ugly red.

“You knew,” I say under my breath. “How did you get him to do this?”

“By that greatest of political bonds. Bribery, and a mutual dislike of a common enemy.”

I press my fingers to my lower lips. “Dear Gris, how much do you owe him?”

Harun snorts. “Everything, it seems.”



*



“Don’t be so sure that this means we’ve won,” Harun says to me on the way back. “He could try and have the vote retaken, and I do not know how long I can keep Ives on my side. Gris knows what favours I will owe him after this. And Eline has family in many Houses, including Ives and Mata.”

“I know. You don’t need to lecture me on the damn Eline web of marriage.” We watch the streets, not talking, until finally I gather enough of my courage to cross the bounds of propriety. “The magic that I – I pulled out of Jannik–” I stall, uncertain of how to broach this.

“What about it?” Harun is grim and angry.

“You’ve never felt anything similar before?”

He shakes his head.

“I must be blunt.” I fold my gloved hands over each other. “How much do you feel through the bond?”

“Enough,” says Harun. “Emotion – pleasure, pain, fear. What more do you expect me to feel – surely that’s enough?”

“And his magic?” I look up, catch Harun’s scowl. “Can you feel it in a room, tell it apart from Jannik’s, does it infect your mood, your thoughts?”

“Something of that. At certain times.”