by Amy Raby
Of the group, Magister Lornis struck her as the most diplomatically skilled. He was friendly and personable. Councillor Burr, on the other hand, did not impress her. He reminded her of any number of corrupt government officials she’d met over the years—the ones Lucien was carefully weeding out of the Kjallan bureaucracy. Also, he’d drained his wineglass three times and was well on his way to being stewed.
“Princess Celeste.” Magister Lornis nodded in her direction. “You’re as lovely as the rumors foretold. The emperor and empress are known for their prowess at Caturanga. Do you play the game?”
“No,” she said shyly.
“Celeste’s interests lie elsewhere,” said Lucien. “She’s involved in the Mathematical Brotherhood of Riat. And, like all women from the imperial line, she’s a mind mage.”
“The Mathematical Brotherhood?” said Magister Lornis.
Celeste winced. This was embarrassing to explain. “They don’t normally admit women. They made an exception for me.”
“What sort of math do you do there?”
“A variety of things.” Mostly cryptography and cryptanalysis, which she wasn’t at liberty to talk about since she was working with Lucien to upgrade Kjall’s ciphers to a higher level of security. She’d also broken Inya’s ciphers as an exercise. It was probably best to abandon this subject. Her love of math wasn’t likely to endear her to Prince Rayn, who already didn’t seem to like her.
Magister Lornis smiled. “I think it’s wonderful that we live in a world where there’s something everyone can be passionate about. For the emperor it’s Caturanga, and for you it’s mathematics.”
“And for the prince,” slurred Councillor Burr, “it’s volcanoes and blondes.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. Celeste was raven haired like her brother.
Magister Lornis steepled his hands on the table. “It’s well known that Rayn dotes on his mother and sisters. And, Councillor, you’ve had more than enough to drink.”