“Whomever I need to,” I said.
“Let’s start with the council meeting, shall we? It will be easier to arrest the entire room than loot offices and bedrooms one by one.”
“You’re hilarious.” I picked up a piece of salmon and stuck it on a slice of seaweed bread. “I thought you wanted me to arrest Reko.”
“And Annika?”
I couldn’t admit that ransacking their rooms might have been a mistake. “They have ties to Sigis. I know they’re plotting something with him. But I have to figure out what.”
“You can begin with the fact that they signed two land agreements with him as soon as he arrived.”
“What?” I gaped at him. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“It’s in the documents you, ahem, rescued from their room.” Eirhan brandished an example.
I snatched it from him. “I was getting to that,” I said, blushing. I’d already read the contract through, but I hadn’t made any sense of it.
“I might recommend getting to it before your entire council revolts, and not after,” Eirhan said.
If I brought the council a confession, maybe I could justify the hasty actions and the bad look I’d brought upon myself. “I’ll tell them everything once I’ve talked to Annika and Reko.”
“Now you want to talk,” Eirhan muttered. But he didn’t challenge me further; he nodded and said, “I’ll be meeting Rafyet to discuss his new proposal for fishing agreements. Anyway, do remember to let your guard protect you.”
My guard. Of course, they would be Eirhan’s eyes and ears. Could I bribe them to stay out of the room? “What else would they do?” I asked darkly, and as Inkar came out for breakfast, I retreated to get dressed.
Annika rose as I entered but did not bow. Their round face was paler than usual in the morning light.
I wore my mother’s jewelry like armor. I needed to maintain control. I needed to keep Annika fearful and defensive. I motioned for them to sit in a low chair while I towered over them. “So,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “You make agreements with my enemy. You support a parliament to reduce my family’s power. And now I discover you’ve traveled Below.”
Annika folded their hands. They’d traded their opulent coat for a suit that drew tight across their shoulders and hips, and they kept their legs pressed together. They looked small—deliberately so, I guessed. But they met my eye and held their chin up. “I can assure you that’s not true.”
“None of it?”
They licked their lips. “Many claims can be made, Your Grace, but I can explain them. To your satisfaction, I hope.”
I held up the paper Eirhan had cleverly noticed. “You signed this after Sigis arrived for the brideshow.”
Annika was as still as a hare poised to flee. “I had your father’s permission for that.”
“Can you prove it?” I said.
They didn’t reply. Nor did they look away. Their blue eyes turned pale and angry.
“Why do you want to depose me?”
“I don’t, Your Grace.”
“You want a parliament.”
Their words were measured. “You seized the treasury. You’ve arrested me. A parliament doesn’t mean you can’t be duke. It just means you can’t be an autocrat anymore.”
“You had no problem with my father’s being an autocrat,” I pointed out.
“Kamen has thirty years of experience in politics.” Their eyes dropped to their lap. “But he taught you more about fear than politics. I would have supported a parliament no matter who succeeded him. Perhaps it’s time for a change.”
“And supporting a parliament would make it easier for Sigis to marry into the family, wouldn’t it? The parliament could maintain control. In theory.” I doubted Sigis would make things any easier on a governing body than he would on me. “And what about Below?”
Annika raised a pale eyebrow. “I’ve never been Below.”
“Minister Olloi says otherwise.”
They snorted. “Minister Olloi hates me. He’s wanted to be minister of agriculture since before you were born.”
“Why is that? Why does everyone want a post that has no meaning on an ice-covered lake? Is it because you can make special deals with powerful kings?”
Annika lifted one shoulder in response. “Being minister of agriculture gives me a say in trade and imported goods. Olloi’s job is to guard a locked door.”
That was fair. “Being minister of agriculture means you can make lucrative agreements, too.” I examined the papers. “What did Sigis offer you?”
Annika was silent. I let the silence draw out. Their heel tapped on the floor, ice grips click-clicking in the silence. “I want to make a deal,” they said at last.
The side of my mouth twitched. “Offer me something.”
“Olloi arranged for Sigis to access untreated magic from Below. I don’t know who collected it, but Sigis has talked to everyone. I can tell you who supports him, who avoids him, and who’s undecided.”
“So tell me,” I said.
Annika wet their lips. “I want promises first. I want to maintain my seat on the council, and Kylma buys my produce before trading with foreigners.”
I narrowed my eyes. Annika should be begging for their life, not negotiating an agricultural agreement.
“More grain means a better life for citizens Above. The tax will enrich the treasury. You’ll have an ally on your council. There’s no drawback for you.”
I’d hardly call Annika an ally. “And how do I know you didn’t go Below?”
“I cannot prove that I haven’t been somewhere, Your Grace,” Annika said. “I can only tell you that Olloi has his reasons for framing me.”
Be Father. They didn’t fear me enough if they thought staying on my council would benefit them. “This is my problem, Annika. If you’re lying, I’m only handing you more power. Executing you would be cleaner and easier for me.”
Their hands clenched into fists. “My holdings would revert to Sigis, not you. You’d lose a valuable asset. I can help you.” Now I heard that hint of desperation. “I can give you names.”
I folded my arms. “So talk. And if your information is decent, we’ll talk about what you get to keep.” Their position, their agreements, their head—let them wonder what was on the line.
Their fingers twitched; then they forced them to relax. And they began to talk.
Reko sat at his desk, writing. When I entered, he glanced up, then scrawled his signature at the bottom of the page and set it aside. “How pleased I am that Her Grace has blessed me with her presence.”
Reko didn’t have to like me, but he did have to respect me. “Surely you would never have spoken that way to my father.”
“You are not your father,” Reko said.
There was a short, ugly silence.
“I’ll get to the point.” I took the armchair by the fire. “I’ve been speaking with Minister Annika. They had some interesting things to say about my council.”
Reko picked at a bit of invisible dust on his sleeve. “I’m sure they painted me the very picture of villainy.”