Emperor's Edge Republic (82 page)

“Yes.” Tikaya digested the rest of the information thoughtfully. “This is about setting up couples?”

“Of course, though it’s a shame I don’t see Evrial—Sergeant Yara—anywhere. I had hoped she might have decided... well, Maldynado is a good man, even if he’s not an entirely serious one. I think she’ll regret letting him go. Opportunities for career advancement should come often to those who deserve them.”

“Hm.”

Amaranthe looked up at her. “What did
you
think the theme of the party would be?”

“Lobbying for a statue.”

“Ah, I think he’s decided to let that notion rest for a while. At least, he hasn’t mentioned it in my hearing of late.”

“My second guess was that he wished to show off his new hat.” Tikaya nodded toward the musicians, where Maldynado was using said hat as a prop as he gestured and explained. Limp golden vines stuck out of a green felt cap like noodles tangled around a fork.

Amaranthe snorted. “Most of us have already seen it. It’s supposed to represent the plant and the role he played in defeating it. Apparently, he doesn’t care that it doesn’t quite match his silver and blue suit.” She pointed toward the door. “There’s your husband if you wish to discuss how you’ll press bodies with drum beats reverberating from the columns. I better go tell Sicarius that
we
might be required to dance. Convincing him to come was already a challenge. I’m not sure how to break the rest to him.”

Watching her try might be entertaining. “Perhaps I could... offer something that might soften his mood.”

“Oh?” Amaranthe asked.

“A few weeks ago, while we were rather distracted, you were asking about doctors in Kyatt with certain specialties.”

Amaranthe’s brows rose. “Yes.”

“I believe Haonii Kolitaarui could help you.”

“I see. Thank you. Ah, would you be willing to write that down for me in the event that I can’t remember how to pronounce the name?”

Tikaya smiled. “I would.”

Rias strolled over to join her as Amaranthe walked away, a lively sway to her hips. He wore a black tunic and trousers, the garments trimmed with silver. The look was more reminiscent of a military uniform than cheerful spring attire, but he looked good in it, as always. Professional. Like a leader of men. Tikaya supposed she would have to wait five years—make that four years and eight months—before she could convince him to wear a loose floral shirt and sandals again. Too bad. The few months he had been in office had aged him further than the last ten years, deepening the lines at the corners of his mouth and his eyes. He was still recovering from the poisoning, she reminded herself. With luck, the next months would be less arduous.

“You haven’t found the drinks yet, my lady?” Rias caught her hand and lifted it for a kiss.

She gave him a bemused smile at the “my lady.” Some of the Turgonian mannerisms that had been worn away by the years out of his homeland had returned of late, making him seem once again the warrior-caste aristocrat rather than the simple scientist who had earned a modest living as they explored the seas together. She had decided to find it quaint and charming—until she could get him back home.

“Not yet.” Tikaya kissed him on the cheek. “Are
you
going to imbibe? I thought you’d decided to swear off alcohol until your retirement.” When Dak had interrogated Serpitivich, it had come out that a shared drink one evening had been the delivery mechanism for the poison. The vice president had consumed wine from the same carafe as Rias, after taking some prophylactic to ensure the substance didn’t affect him.

“Perhaps… I will stick with water, but I thought you might like something stronger.”

“Why? Do you think I’ll require alcoholic fortitude to make it through the night?”

A few drumbeats drifted out of the musicians’ corner. Maldynado danced a jig Tikaya hoped she wouldn’t be expected to duplicate at any point.

“I don’t know about the night, but I have news that may make the next few minutes memorable.” Rias offered a tentative half smile.

“News?” Tikaya thought of the officers who had drawn him aside to talk in the hallway. “Nothing... that will cause us trouble, I hope.”

“That depends on whether you decide to accept or not.”

“Accept... what?”

“As you may have heard, Dak hasn’t been the most willing chief of intelligence,” Rias said. “I brought him down because I knew he was capable and because I could trust him, but he just tried to resign. Again.”

Tikaya winced, thinking of her own suspicions and how little she had trusted Dak when he had turned out to be one of the few people she should have trusted completely. “You’re not letting him quit, are you?”

“He wants to go back to the work he likes, being a field agent rather than sitting behind a desk and squinting at reports all day.”

Tikaya didn’t know exactly what a Turgonian field agent did, but she could guess. “He would rather be out there getting shot at than having a safe office position? Sounds incomprehensible to me.”

“Yes, he mentioned that you have a preferences for offices and desks. Even those that aren’t your own.”

Tikaya tried to decide if she should be embarrassed at this point. Rias had heard about her attempt to take over Dak’s files weeks ago. “Only when those I care about are at risk, and things to mitigate that risk aren’t being done quickly enough.”

“It’s a foregone conclusion that I’ll be at risk again in the coming years.”

“I thought this was going to be a light celebratory dinner party, not an opportunity for you to remind me of your mortality.”

“Actually, I was trying to muster your enthusiasm for a new job,” Rias said.

“A what?”

“How would
you
like to head the intelligence office?”

She stared at him. Actually, she gaped at him, with her mouth hanging open and her spectacles in danger of sliding off her nose.

“You mentioned a couple of times that you haven’t been sure what to do since you don’t have colleagues over here researching archaeology. You’ve worked in an intelligence office before, and made quite a name for yourself.” He wriggled his eyebrows.

Tikaya would have scoffed, but her mouth had gone dry, and she struggled to utter anything. As if her brief time spent decrypting enemy messages during a war twenty years in the past qualified her to run an intelligence office in a country she had only spent a few months in.

“I thought this might be a new, fun challenge for you.” The other side of his mouth quirked up, and Rias took both of her hands in his.

Tikaya knew that smile, the I’m-sure-you-would-love-to-do-this-for-me-because-I’m-adorable-and-I-genuinely-believe-it-would-be-fulfilling-for-you smile. “Challenging, I’ll believe, but
fun
? I’m certain Dak never used that adjective in describing the job.”

“Yes, but Dak doesn’t use that adjective to describe anything. Think about it, won’t you? I won’t be able to let him move on to a new position until I find a suitable replacement.” He squeezed her hands, then waved down one of the passing servers for beverages.

“You probably should have plied me with the alcohol
before
you propositioned me,” Tikaya said, causing the server to quirk an eyebrow.

“My adoring smile has always worked in the past,” Rias said. “Is it losing its appeal?”

“I don’t know. How would all those young military pups feel about working for the president’s civilian wife? More than that... there are some decisions I would hate to be in charge of—such as whether a military officer should be put to death for sabotaging the president’s submarine when he was in fact being blackmailed himself, not knowing that his only child had already been killed by the heartless soul doing the blackmailing.”

“Major Rydoth was discharged without benefits, not put to death. I wouldn’t expect you to make such decisions, regardless—we have courts-martial for that. I’d simply hope you could uncover such schemes and instances of blackmail before they became a problem, such as when the president is enacting the final stage of a plan to rescue the city from certain doom.”

“Ah, is
that
all you want?”

“A small matter for a capable woman.” He smiled, the adorable please-do-this-for-me one again, and added, “As for the young pups, we could have a colonel or similarly ranked officer on your team who could command the military men, and then report to you. Ideally, we will add competent civilians to the office as well, so you wouldn’t only be dealing with soldiers.”

“So, I might even have some women on the team?” Tikaya searched the hall until her gaze landed on Amaranthe.

“That is certainly a possibility.”

“I’ll have to think about this.”

“I wouldn’t expect a hasty decision.” Rias handed her a glass. “Now, shall we enjoy the festivities?”

As Tikaya took a sip, she noticed Sicarius wasn’t the only man holding up the wall. Two armed and uniformed soldiers stood near the doors, clearly on duty, protecting the president—and mentally composing reports to hand to their superiors who would in turn hand them to the chief of intelligence. Dear Akahe, was she up for that challenge? The problem-solving aspect was appealing enough, but commanding legions of analysts and operatives? On the other hand, did she want to be in a position again where she had to plead and wheedle for information? If she didn’t take the job, the next chief might not be as willing to concede that the president’s wife might have a bright thought or two. Besides, if she
did
take the job, she could find out whatever secrets lurked in the archives that Dak had alluded to. Tikaya took another sip of the wine. Hm.

“Shall I consider it promising that you’re smiling?” Rias murmured.

Tikaya didn’t want him to think that his “adoring smile” had had anything to do with her thought process. When Sespian walked into the hall, Tikaya said, “I’m merely pleased to see that the designer of this fine building has joined us.”

“I see,” Rias said. As usual, he saw much.

• • • • •

Mahliki wasn’t there yet. Disappointment and relief mingled in Sespian’s mind. He had been so busy supervising the building construction in the last weeks, that he hadn’t seen much of her. He worried that she had been avoiding him, or had turned her interests elsewhere after his unromantic fumbling on the beach. Maldynado had assured Sespian that she had accepted his dinner invitation and that tonight would be his opportunity for... everything.

Sespian had washed and scrubbed every inch of his body, shaved, gotten a hair cut, and spent no less than an hour dithering over which item in his sparse wardrobe would make him appear impressively masculine in front of a woman as tall as he was. He had been standing in his flat, nude except for a towel around his waist, when a messenger had delivered a garment bag from an expensive clothier on the Ridge. As soon as he spotted Maldynado’s name scrawled on the card, he had been worried, but the sleek gray and black suit in the quasi-military style that never lost its popularity in Turgonia fit him nicely. He had left the dubiously colored scarf and kerchief in the bag, certain that Maldynado had chosen those without the help of the clothier. Though he felt dapper, Sespian worried that he was sweating far too much, and that Mahliki would fail to find him... irresistible. Dear ancestors, he would settle for vaguely appealing at this point.

Maldynado spotted him and strolled in his direction. Good, Sespian had news for him. Maybe delivering it would take his mind off worrying about Mahliki’s arrival.

“Good to see you,” Maldynado said, “and in such a fine ensemble, too, though I see you forgot your kerchief.”

“It was floral,” Sespian said.

“And the scarf.”

“It had tiger stripes.”

“Accents of color, dear boy. I didn’t think you wanted to appear as monochromatic as...” Maldynado tilted his head toward the corner where Sicarius stood. How
had
his father found a shadow to lurk in? Sespian had specifically designed the windows, walls, angles, and lighting fixtures so there shouldn’t be shadows.

“You don’t think the gray trim will set me apart?”

“Enh.” Maldynado rocked his hand back and forth. “Maybe you should have brought the kid. Women love cute kids. On the other hand, Mahliki might not be old enough to appreciate a child. She certainly doesn’t seem the sort to be entertaining the idea of motherhood yet. No, you were smart to leave the girl at home.”

“Do you think Mahliki will be... scared away by a child?” Sespian caught himself asking before he thought better of it. Maldynado was the
last
person he ought to be asking for advice on... well, anything. Still, he caught himself adding, “I’m her legal guardian, it’s true, but the Starcrests said they would watch her if I ever felt the need to run off and do young person things, as Tikaya called it. I assured them I’m more mature than that. I haven’t been a young person since... I don’t ever remember thinking of myself as a young person.”

“That’s... a little sad. You should share those feelings with Mahliki. Women love somber introspective men. And brooding. Can you brood?”

“Has anyone ever told you that your mind has a singular focus, Maldynado?”

“That sounds like a compliment. I don’t usually get compliments about my mind.”

“How odd.” Sespian had spent enough time with Maldynado at this point to know he wasn’t as shallow as his mouth implied, but it was hard to remember that at times. “I actually wanted to talk to you about another matter, if you don’t mind. Or has the president already spoken to you?”

“Spoken to me? I’m not certain he knows I exist.”

“You were on the team that helped save the city from the plant,” Sespian said dryly.

Maldynado blinked at him. “What’s your point?”

“He
knows
you exist. He approved of this. Actually, he suggested it.” Sespian opened the flap of his jacket and withdrew an envelope, the flap smeared with old-fashioned blood-red wax and the president’s seal. “He asked if you wanted Marblecrest included, but I thought not. As it stands, they’re looking at using your first and middle name. It’s just as well. Crests aren’t very popular with the new entrepreneurial and political classes.”