Karris breathed a heavy sigh. “I didn’t think that . . . your masters were going to be a bigger threat than the White King.”
“Not my masters. And not for long,” Teia said. “I hope.” She made to move to the door. “Oh, shit. One more thing. I realized we were so rushed before that I didn’t tell you.” She lowered her voice. “Ironfist. He was in the Order.”
“What?!” Karris said.
“I don’t know if he is anymore. Apparently, he joined them when he was a kid so they’d protect his sister from their family’s enemies. And I guess they did. Then with me killing her, he thinks they betrayed him. Even though she was trying to murder him when I did kill her, he was . . . He was scary as hell. You ever see a man lose everything he’s given his life for, all at once? I hadn’t. And I’ve never known a man like him.”
Me neither.
“It took me a while to put it all together, but . . . you know, he betrayed us in order to save his sister. Then his sister failed and betrayed him, and his brother died for us, and the people he betrayed us to then betrayed him.” She got pensive, seemed to forget her urge to leave so quickly for a moment. “You know, not to do your job, but if he finds out you knew I was going to assassinate his sister, and you let me . . . ? He won’t be too happy.”
Karris was reeling, but her first thought was horror. Oh, Ironfist, what have we done to you? In every part of your life, we’ve destroyed you.
What have you done to yourself? Joining the Order?
In ordering Teia to assassinate his sister, the Nuqaba, the Chromeria had betrayed him, but he’d betrayed them first.
Well, sort of. He hadn’t known Karris or Gavin or any of the Blackguards when he’d taken his vow to the Order, had he? No wonder he’d held himself aloof, not just from Karris but from any woman. He’d known he was a hypocrite of the greatest degree, that he might be called on to do reprehensible things. He’d lived with that terrible, terrible secret and shame.
Then her gut sank as she realized what a new and horrible twist this put on them potentially marrying.
O God, protect us.
“Yeah,” Teia said. “Sorry I didn’t get you the news earlier.”
“No, it wouldn’t have changed anything.” Except I would have felt rage first, rather than compassion. So maybe it was for the best.
“It’s like your best friend dying, isn’t it?” Teia said, her voice softer.
“I’m sorry for all this, Teia. But . . .”
“They’re a blight. I know. It’s gotta be done. And I’m the only one who can do this. Doesn’t seem fair, but there it is. Now, sorry, but I really do have to go. Can you distract your door guards?”
“Hmm?”
“Invisible, not incorporeal,” Teia said. “Can’t float through things, and people tend to notice a door opening and closing by itself.”
“Oh, right, right.” Karris got up and threw on a robe. “You, uh, you haven’t asked for your orders.”
Teia looked at her quizzically, a shadow of derision returning to her sharp young face. The girl rubbed her cheek over her dogtooth as if it pained her. “Orders? An arrow in flight doesn’t need orders. I’ll return to you bloody or not at all.”
She threw her hood over her head.
She was going to leave without another word. Karris grabbed her by the wrist, wishing she could shake some sense into the girl, wishing everything between them had been different.
“Nonetheless,” she said gently. She rummaged through her desk and grabbed a paper. “Same code as usual.”
Teia snagged it and tucked it away. Her cloak shimmered—and she was gone.
Karris went and opened her door to give Teia room to get out past the Blackguards. “Pardon me, Essel, could you check and see if any of my chamber servants are awake and would bring me some kopi? I hate to wake them at such an hour, so if none of them are up, it’s not really necessary . . .”
Essel smiled. It had taken her a worryingly long time to recover from being knocked out the day Gavin had been kidnapped, but she was finally her old self again. “They are your chamber servants. That’s what they do, High Lady.”
“High Lady?” Karris said. “Essel, don’t talk to me like we haven’t danced the gciorcal on tables till past dawn together. One of us without a shift under her skirts.”
“Yes, High Lady,” Essel said. “I’ll go check. You think you can keep it professional around here for one minute, Amzîn?”
“Yes, Watch Captain!” the young man said. “I will not stand here and wonder which of you was dancing without her shift, sir.”
Essel stifled a laugh.
Karris raised her eyebrows, and young Amzîn blanched.
“I changed my mind,” Karris said. “Amzîn, there’s a kopi seller named Jalal on the back side of Ebon’s Hill where the two main light-well streets intersect. Opens early. Go find a Blackguard in the barracks to cover the rest of your shift. Then I want you to run to the kopi seller and bring back as much hot kopi as you can carry. As quick as you can. I hate it lukewarm. Until your brain is faster than your tongue, your feet are going to have to be faster yet.”
His mouth worked once or twice, but then he was off like a shot. Running so far was easy. Running so far carrying a hot drink? And being expected to bring it back before it cooled?
Essel came back to her post, “That . . . might have been my fault. I’ve been telling the boy stories of the old days of all the trouble we got into.”
“Any of them true?”
“One or two,” Essel said. “He’s been terrified of you since his last gaffe. And the others have been none too gentle on him. They all feel like he’s trying to take Gav Greyling’s place. He’s not, of course. But you know men at war. Not always fair.”
“No, they’re not.”
“Nor women, neither.”
Karris gave Essel a sharp look. “All right, all right. I hear you. I’ll ease up.”
“Just a little.”
“Just a little,” Karris said. “So, uh, which version of that story did you tell him?”
“The true one,” Essel said, “where you were the one half-naked, and I was trying to convince you to go home.”
“You wicked little liar!”
Essel just laughed.
Then she said, “Actually, after all this time, I can’t remember which way is true. Or did it happen more than once?”
“More than once. For you,” Karris said.
“Doing some work tonight?” Essel asked.
“Yeah.”
“Want me stationed inside instead?”
Karris wanted the company, but said, “No. It’s, um, no . . . not tonight, friend.” She didn’t know what was in the folio. No one should know it even existed.
Essel nodded, and Karris could tell her feelings were bruised. But Essel was a professional. She asked immediately, “Want me to send to the kitchens for some kopi? It’ll be at least an hour before the kid gets back. With lukewarm kopi, I’d guess, too.”
“Sure,” Karris said. “But don’t let Amzîn know, would ya? Just in case. That old man’s kopi really is the best.”