The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(61)

It was the nervous tension on Jayn’s face that made her realize she had been silent too long—lost in thought. “You were right to tell me,” she said, patting her arm. “I will not reveal that you confided in me. But I am grateful you did. You are a loyal friend to her and to me. I treasure you both.”

Jayn gave her a dimpled smile in response. “I will always be grateful to you for saving me,” she said. They both knew what she meant.

They made a turn, and Maia spied Simon’s shop. Maia glanced back a moment later and saw their escort round the corner. He was one of Simon’s men—Piers. She gave him a smile and a wink, acknowledging that she knew he had been shadowing them. While Maia did enjoy the freedom to roam the city in disguise, Simon’s spies were always nearby, both to deliver messages and to ensure she was safe. Piers scowled at her for breaking protocol by greeting him, and she and Jayn entered the wine merchant’s shop.

As they stepped through the door, it occurred to Maia that this is where she had come that long-ago day after the kishion saved her life. So much had changed since then. There had been no reports of the kishion since Schuyler’s rebellion had been squelched—perhaps because there was no current threat to her life. Her enemies were under guard at Pent Tower awaiting trials, which Maia was in no rush to pursue. With their capture, all resistance to her authority had crumpled. Comoros was truly hers.

Maia patted Jayn’s arm one last time. “Tell Suzenne to expect me shortly. I will need to speak to Richard about the progress with the river defenses.”

“I will,” Jayn replied. She gave her hand a grateful squeeze and then turned around and left, followed by Piers, who would escort her back to the castle.

The merchant’s shop was always bustling, but one of Simon’s men recognized her and nodded for her to follow him back to Simon’s office. He was a complex man who constantly walked a tightrope. Besides being a spy, both for her husband and as a double agent for the Victus, he was also an unofficial member of her Privy Council. He would often come to the castle after dark and meet with her and Suzenne, discuss the affairs of the day, and pass along any news he deemed worthy of her attention. She trusted him implicitly.

The servant shut the door, leaving the two of them alone.

“Good morning, Simon,” she greeted. Excitement shot down her spine when she noticed the folded piece of paper in his hand. “Is that for me?”

He nodded and handed it to her, his look guarded.

Maia felt a twinge of disappointment. “He rejected the idea,” she said with a sigh. In her last message to Collier, she had offered to cross the Apse Veil to Lisyeux Abbey to see him, in the hopes he could spare time from his war with Paeiz to meet her there.

“You think I would read your private messages?” Simon said, giving her an unruffled stare.

Maia smiled slyly and hurried to open the note. She normally would have waited to read it back at the palace, but today she could not bear it. His words were charming, as always, but he did not think it would be wise to meet her at Lisyeux. Still, he promised that if all went well, he would soon join her in Comoros with his army.

Patience, Wife, he extolled her. As I used to say to my steward Jeremiah, ‘patience is for those who have nothing better to do with their time.’ But I have since learned that it is truly a virtue the Medium rewards. I beg you to forgive me, my dove. I long for nothing more than to see you again and to hold you in my arms. I will come to you.

It was strange to feel disappointment and love at the same moment. She gently folded the paper and slipped it into her girdle to read again later. She sat down on the cushioned chair near Simon’s desk.

“How goes his war?” she asked, confident that he would tell her true.

Simon shrugged slightly. “War is unpredictable. But he is motivated to win it and win it quickly. Still, these things take time, my lady.”

Maia sighed, trying to sort through the feelings in her tumultuous heart. “I sent an ambassador to Paeiz to sue for an alliance,” she said. “I have not heard back from him yet. Maybe I should heighten the rhetoric. By attacking Dahomey, he has also attacked Comoros.”

Simon winced, though only slightly. “You have enough troubles of your own, Lady Maia. You have only been queen for a month. It takes time to see results.”

“Speaking of abbeys,” Maia said with a twinge of impatience. “My husband has not yet taken the maston test at Lisyeux. If this war does not end soon . . .” She gritted her teeth, unable to finish the thought. She wanted so much to marry him by irrevocare sigil. But he needed to be a maston first.

She looked up and caught a peculiar look in Simon’s eye. “What is it?”

“What is what, my lady?”

“What does that look mean?” she asked, trying to rope him in. “Is there something you are not telling me?”

Simon smiled demurely. “There is always plenty I am not telling you. Insignificant trifles.”

“I know that,” she said with a hint of exasperation. “I mean about Collier. If something happened to him, you would tell me?” She looked at him seriously. “Simon? You would tell me, correct?”

Simon drummed his fingers on the desk. “I will always be honest with you, my lady.”

She hated it when he was evasive. “That comforts me. Is my husband well? He has not been injured, has he?”