Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
None of her son’s men would touch Serena for fifty bags of gold.
And everyone knew, Serena was a use-it-and-lose-it woman.
As in, she used a shaft once, then she walked away.
“I don’t think one of True’s men would be wise,” Wilmer murmured.
Mercy’s lips curled up slightly.
“I’ll think on it,” Carrington replied. “But we persevere with our strategy. Wodell has had an alliance with the Nadirii for decades. If Airen has an alliance with the Nadirii, as well as Mar-el, Firenze will be left in the cold. We’ll get that tract of land, Wilmer, and as planned, once we do, we’ll push south.”
Mercy faked a yawn.
“My wife tires, Carrington,” Wilmer stated. “We’ll take this up in the morning.”
“Of course,” Carrington muttered, sounding aggrieved.
Mercy lifted her eyes to him.
When he turned to her, his expression changed.
She found hiding her thoughts and feelings was most of the time wise.
With Carrington, she did not do that.
He had her husband’s ear.
She had his bed and had given him an heir.
She had but to yawn, and her husband was dispatching his aide.
Even a fool like Carrington knew who rose to the top of that power structure.
And she enjoyed taking her moments to remind him of that.
He bowed smarmily and said, “My queen.”
“Goodnight, Carrington.”
“My king,” he said to Wilmer.
“Carrington.”
He took his leave.
Mercy stared at the door for many moments, cursing the thick carpets in the halls of the palace where you couldn’t hear footfalls.
She’d had the carpets in the halls taken up in her own castle years ago.
It was a wonder Elpis didn’t do this but an hour after her husband leaked his lifeblood all over the floor of his own study.
She tore her gaze away from the door when Wilmer got close.
“Would you like to prepare for bed, my beloved?”
“Leave True to his own engagements,” she said quietly.
His head tipped to the side. “I’m sorry?”
“Carry forward your strategy, my love, and allow True to do what he will,” she explained.
Her husband’s back snapped straight.
He would, of course, take umbrage that his wife made a suggestion in the dealings of a nation (and he did, often, though she managed to handle that, just as often).
Sadly, things were not, amongst the other realms, that much different than they were in Airen.
Just as he would take ridiculous advice from a greedy man who had no battle experience, no diplomatic experience, and only came to them when Wilmer was younger and sang his charlatan’s song after finishing a degree at the Go’Da.
Certainly, it was an advanced degree.
But knowing the precise date the Lunwynians arrived on their shores and intermingled their language that would soon sweep the continent, all except Firenze, as well as left some of their gods and goddesses with the Dellish. And knowing when the Mar-el expelled the dissenters who sailed the seas and started the nation of Maroo in the Southlands. And knowing precisely when the aqueducts were finished in Sky Bay did not make a King’s Counsellor.
“True represents the crown in all things,” her husband declared.
“Of course he does,” she murmured. “However, when results are far from guaranteed, don’t you think two negotiators attempting two lines of negotiation, both for the benefit of our realm, are better than all focusing on just one?”
Wilmer blinked and then appeared adorably befuddled.
Mercy waited.
He cleared that and stated, “This bears contemplation.”
She waited again, hoping.
He dashed her hopes.
“I’ll discuss it with Carrington tomorrow.”
She again quelled a sigh.
“Are you coming to bed?” he asked.
“Of course, my love,” she whispered, pushed up, and Wilmer shouted, “Helga! See to your queen!”
The door to the servant’s chamber instantly opened.
Mercy moved toward the bathing chamber and her dressing room.
Helga followed.
Perhaps she’d be able to have another word with him before he breakfasted with Carrington like he did every day.
Or perhaps it was time for something else.
The tremors might have stopped, but the earth was still shifting.
And as seemed to happen with alarming frequency, Wodell was being relegated to the rubble.
Aramus wed the greatest beauty in his land.
Cassius got a princess.
Mars got a countess.
And her son True would be bound to the blood of a traitor.
The blood of a traitor who, no matter that Mars showed her deep affection any time he saw her (this had to be a ruse to keep True and Wilmer happy, she wouldn’t countenance such a person her presence, as Elpis did not hide she had trouble doing), was first, a barbarian who barely clothed herself when out in company. And second, was so far from good enough for her son, the future king of her realm, it didn’t bear contemplating.
Therefore, as usual, Mercy had to protect her husband.
She also had to find some way to strengthen the position of her son.
And last, she had to take care of her realm.
So yes, perhaps it was time for something else.
Something daring.
Something ghastly.
But something necessary.
20
The Bargain