Lord Prime,” she said, drawing Isis up by the fence. “Should you not be in the meeting hall already?”
“I was on my way,” Deven said with a smile. He was standing up on the lowest rail of the fence, which enabled him to see over it. It was, she thought, absurdly cute, especially considering that he was probably armed to the teeth. “I saw you gallop by and thought I’d check in on you. We haven’t had a chance to speak much this weekend.”
Vràna stuck her head through the fence, and Deven bent to rub her ears. “You seem to be doing very well,” he went on, looking up at Cora. “I must say you look magnificent on that monster’s back.”
Cora patted Isis on the neck. “Isis is no monster. She is a regal and proud lady.”
Deven looked unconvinced, and Isis flicked her ear at him disdainfully, supremely uninterested in his opinion. Cora had to laugh at that.
“I wanted to ask you a favor,” Deven said. “Feel free to say no for any reason.”
Cora dismounted, facing the Prime through the fence. “Anything, my Lord.”
“It’s nothing dramatic. But tonight Jonathan is going into the city with Miranda for her concert, and that leaves me without ears in the Queens’ gathering. I was hoping you might consent to carrying this.” He drew something from his pocket: a tiny device about the size of a button. “I want to know what they’re gossiping about. This will record conversations near you, and I can listen to them later.”
Cora slid her hand through the fence and took the device. “Where do I put it?”
“There’s a clip on it that will fit on the back of your Signet. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
She turned over the device and her Signet, and sure enough, the clip was the perfect length to slide into the amber stone’s setting. “I do not mind at all,” she said, “as long as you do not wish for me to act on whatever I hear—I am neither a warrior nor an agent of yours.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Now what makes you think I have agents, Cora?”
Cora gave him an amused look. “Why, nothing at all, my Lord.”
Deven smiled at her slowly. “You are quite a woman, my Lady Queen. I look forward to a great many years as your ally.”
“Perhaps you can offer a few pointers on how I might get the others to talk to me,” she said. “Otherwise, I may not hear anything useful for you.”
“Flatter them. Women love to be sincerely complimented, and it’s a way to start a conversation: I love your dress , that wart on your neck brings out your eyes , whatever. If you don’t like them, just pretend you don’t speak whatever language they’re using, and look preoccupied and mysterious.”
“None of them seem to like me much,” she noted, trying not to sound petulant. “I wish I knew why.”
Deven snorted quietly. “By and large, Cora, Queens are shallow bitches who care about nothing but riches and power, just like their Primes. They look down on you because of where you came from, not because of who you are, which proves they’re of no use to you. But they’re not all bad. Aside from Jonathan and Miranda, I would advise you to at least stay on good terms with Mameha of Japan, Virginia Larimer of the Midwestern U.S. … Varati from India is a good friend of your Prime’s, and his Queen is a brilliant woman. Most won’t make the first move, though; that will be up to you, if you want your circle of allies to grow.”
“I will try,” she told him.
He reached through the fence and took her hand. “The most important thing is this: Even if they intimidate you, don’t let them know they do. Walk in like you own theplace. You’ve seen Miranda do it—and even the ones who hate her respect her enough to get out of her way. The Queens who would make good friends will be drawn to you, and you to them. Trust your instincts.”
Cora squeezed his hand back and nodded. “I shall.”
“Then you’ll do fine, my Lady. Now, if you’ll excuse me … I have to go pretend
“I was on my way,” Deven said with a smile. He was standing up on the lowest rail of the fence, which enabled him to see over it. It was, she thought, absurdly cute, especially considering that he was probably armed to the teeth. “I saw you gallop by and thought I’d check in on you. We haven’t had a chance to speak much this weekend.”
Vràna stuck her head through the fence, and Deven bent to rub her ears. “You seem to be doing very well,” he went on, looking up at Cora. “I must say you look magnificent on that monster’s back.”
Cora patted Isis on the neck. “Isis is no monster. She is a regal and proud lady.”
Deven looked unconvinced, and Isis flicked her ear at him disdainfully, supremely uninterested in his opinion. Cora had to laugh at that.
“I wanted to ask you a favor,” Deven said. “Feel free to say no for any reason.”
Cora dismounted, facing the Prime through the fence. “Anything, my Lord.”
“It’s nothing dramatic. But tonight Jonathan is going into the city with Miranda for her concert, and that leaves me without ears in the Queens’ gathering. I was hoping you might consent to carrying this.” He drew something from his pocket: a tiny device about the size of a button. “I want to know what they’re gossiping about. This will record conversations near you, and I can listen to them later.”
Cora slid her hand through the fence and took the device. “Where do I put it?”
“There’s a clip on it that will fit on the back of your Signet. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
She turned over the device and her Signet, and sure enough, the clip was the perfect length to slide into the amber stone’s setting. “I do not mind at all,” she said, “as long as you do not wish for me to act on whatever I hear—I am neither a warrior nor an agent of yours.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Now what makes you think I have agents, Cora?”
Cora gave him an amused look. “Why, nothing at all, my Lord.”
Deven smiled at her slowly. “You are quite a woman, my Lady Queen. I look forward to a great many years as your ally.”
“Perhaps you can offer a few pointers on how I might get the others to talk to me,” she said. “Otherwise, I may not hear anything useful for you.”
“Flatter them. Women love to be sincerely complimented, and it’s a way to start a conversation: I love your dress , that wart on your neck brings out your eyes , whatever. If you don’t like them, just pretend you don’t speak whatever language they’re using, and look preoccupied and mysterious.”
“None of them seem to like me much,” she noted, trying not to sound petulant. “I wish I knew why.”
Deven snorted quietly. “By and large, Cora, Queens are shallow bitches who care about nothing but riches and power, just like their Primes. They look down on you because of where you came from, not because of who you are, which proves they’re of no use to you. But they’re not all bad. Aside from Jonathan and Miranda, I would advise you to at least stay on good terms with Mameha of Japan, Virginia Larimer of the Midwestern U.S. … Varati from India is a good friend of your Prime’s, and his Queen is a brilliant woman. Most won’t make the first move, though; that will be up to you, if you want your circle of allies to grow.”
“I will try,” she told him.
He reached through the fence and took her hand. “The most important thing is this: Even if they intimidate you, don’t let them know they do. Walk in like you own theplace. You’ve seen Miranda do it—and even the ones who hate her respect her enough to get out of her way. The Queens who would make good friends will be drawn to you, and you to them. Trust your instincts.”
Cora squeezed his hand back and nodded. “I shall.”
“Then you’ll do fine, my Lady. Now, if you’ll excuse me … I have to go pretend
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