Once the maid had departed and the door to his room was firmly closed behind him, Vale’s smile winked out. The charming, sensual, seductive face of Annoura’s Favorite disappeared. A different man, much colder, much harder, and infinitely more dangerous, emerged in his stead.

Sulimage Kolis Manza, apprentice to the great Vadim Maur, High Mage of Eld, lifted the linen cloth beneath the plate of burberry buns and examined the three letters. The note from Renald was a brief summary of the correspondence from the king to his ministers and from the generals to their staffs. Kolis opened the sheet, scanned its contents quickly, and set it aside.

He poured a cup of keflee and held the sealed letter addressed to Queen Annoura over the steam until the wax seal loosened. An adept slice with a letter opener popped it free, then he unfolded the vellum and read the words Dorian X had written to his queen.

The letter contained no Writs of Authority, nothing that needed to be passed on, just a maudlin outpouring that made Kolis’s lip curl. In Eld, the Mages had long ago learned the uses and the limitations of women. They were kept to their place. Baubles to be enjoyed. Tools to be used. Nothing more. For a while, with Jiarine, Kolis had become too attached—and look where that had gotten him. Weeks of torture, terrors that still woke him, gasping and drenched in cold sweat—the punishment he’d earned for failing his master.

He would never fail again.

He tossed Dorian’s note to Annoura into the fire that warmed his spacious apartment. He’d worked too hard to destroy the royal couple’s marriage to risk reconciliation now. The break between Celieria’s royals had been severe, and Kolis meant it to be final.

As Dorian’s romantic outpouring to Annoura burned, Kolis picked up the last letter. He frowned at the name written on the outside of the folded vellum. What on earth could the king have to say to the Queen’s Master of Graces? Kolis loosened and popped the seal and read the contents.

Halfway through, his hand began to shake.

Gaspare Fellows and his pesky little magic-sniffing cat had brought about the demise of Lord Bolor—the man Kolis knew as Primage Gethen Nour. Now Dorian wanted Fellows to spy on the rest of the court to sniff out other agents of Eld and turn them over to the Fey and the King’s justice.

And the first two people the king wanted Fellows to investigate were Jiarine Montevero and the Queen’s Favorite, Ser Vale.

Twenty chimes later, garbed in resplendent, fur-trimmed wool and rich brocades, Ser Vale entered Her Majesty’s apartments and executed a full, flourishing court bow before her.

“Your Majesty. As always, I am dazzled by your radiance.” From another mouth, the outrageous compliment might have sounded laughable and insincere, but Kolis harbored genuine appreciation for the queen’s considerable beauty. What might have seemed insincere from another tongue flowed like a bewitching spell from his.

The queen’s Ladies-in-Waiting sighed. They all liked Ser Vale, lusted for him in fact. But he had always been careful to keep his dalliances to a minimum. It was much easier to keep the queen’s interest if she thought he pined for her in every way.

Of course, it helped that the queen was a celebrated Brilliant in her own right. And today, garbed in shimmering aquamarine, she was the epitome of regal feminine perfection. Her silvery blond hair was piled high atop her head, dusted with iridescent powder, and set with countless pear-shaped diamonds that caught the light and cast dancing rainbows upon the wall with her every move. An enormous diamond pendant hung from a chain of aquamarine-and-diamond flowers encircling her neck.

“I saw the flags go up on the gate announcing word from the king,” Vale said. “I hope, Your Majesty, that he only sent you the best of news.”

He hid a smile as Annoura’s hands tightened into fists in her lap.

A movement at the corner of his eye caught Kolis’s attention. He looked up to see the small, elegant figure of Master Fellows entering the queen’s chamber, the white kitten called Love perched on his shoulder like a sea captain’s bird.

Kolis forced a charming smile when Fellows looked his way, but his mind was busy running through a thousand possible next moves. One thing was certain. Fellows was a problem in need of immediate remedy.

Kolis had no intention of suffering Nour’s fate.

Eld ~ Boura Fell

Melliandra had deliberately stayed away from Lord Death for three days, hoping he’d get over the crackbrained notion that she should risk her life trying to steal his Soul Quest crystal from the High Mage. And what was the first thing he asked when she’d accepted the chore of visiting him again?

Did she have his sorreisu kiyr?

Did she have it! As if she could just trot up to the High Mage’s office and ask for it to be handed over!

Did the dimskull Fey understand what he was asking her to do? Did he have the slightest clue? Melliandra scowled as she stomped back to the kitchens with her tray.

He was punishing her for saving his mate. That’s what this was. Or so she tried to convince herself. Because if he didn’t really mean it, she didn’t really need to risk herself trying to achieve it.

Melliandra accepted her next assignment—cleaning the refuse bins—without complaint, even though she’d done it two days ago and it shouldn’t have been her turn again for at least another five days.

No one really liked pushing the refuse carts. There was never any telling what would end up in them. Noxious poisons, rotting carcasses, and all too often, the bodies of the more unfortunate guests of Boura Fell’s Mages.