“My people, I greet you today, not as a conqueror, but as a servant. You may have been misled by the false rumors and allowed your feelings to get the better of you. Rest assured, I have no intention of harming you—I want to serve you. For too long, we have been separated by class, allowing the poorest to suffer. No more. I want our nation to grow and prosper. A rising tide raises all ships! And with your support, your blessing, I will become the greatest Miestryri Crystalmoor has ever known. Together, we will lead our country into an era of unprecedented peace and prosperity!” He let the words hang in the air as he met the gazes of those surrounding him. A few whispers broke out, but most stayed silent, waiting to see what he would do next. Silvano gestured behind him, releasing his hold on the water. It whooshed back into the sea where it merged with the waves, sending a spray of water in every direction. “The sea has chosen me. Will you?”
Now, the whispers grew louder as the people turned to one another. It was not the reaction he’d hoped for. His heart clenched painfully at the smattering of half-hearted applause. After all that, only a third of the audience stepped forward and knelt at his feet while the rest backed away, exchanging fearful glances. A few stood on the outskirts, arms folded across their chests, glaring defiantly. Silvano’s guards noticed and edged closer. The protesters weren’t doing anything to warrant being arrested, but it was comforting to know that any trouble they caused would be dealt with swiftly. His eyes drifted to the silver ribbons pinned to their tunics, embroidered with his father’s crest—a ship being crushed by a giant squid. His eyes widened, and he shoved through the crowd of retreating bodies to get closer. There was only one person brazen enough to claim the Miestryri’s symbol while another claimed the throne—Arianna.
Was she here? Had she finally come to see him?
The sudden anxiety he felt took him by surprise. He’d expected to feel hurt and betrayed. Instead, he wanted her approval.
He had to find her. She needed to know what had happened to their father. If he could just have time to explain, she would understand. She had to. She’d always been aloof and reserved in public, but when it was just the two of them together, her edges had softened. She’d curl up with him on the settees in the castle library, begging him to tell her about the mother she’d never met, so cruelly taken from her. Silvano would kiss her on the nose and cross his eyes, just to make her giggle. When her Gift had manifested, Silvano would help her practice for hours each day, allowing her to buffet him with streams of water until he collapsed to the ground, laughing and soaking wet.
He had to believe that she would support him. She’d always been ambitious, but he couldn’t imagine that she’d truly turn on him. If he could just speak with her, she would side with him. They could join forces and make Crystalmoor a better place. He and Olielle had spent countless nights plotting what he they would do together. There was too great a disparity between the nobility and the commoners, and even more of a gap between the commoners and the dregs. He wanted a better life for them all, but there was nothing he could do if their loyalties were divided. If they rejected him.
Unless that’s what Arianna wanted.
Maybe she wanted him to flounder without support. Without supporters, she could issue a challenge, and she would unseat him easily.
Silvano motioned to Jax to investigate, but before he could follow, Olielle intercepted him. She’d traded her suvali-inspired gown for Crystalmoor’s more traditional dress. The light green fabric cinched above her growing waist with a pleated skirt that skimmed the bottom of her knees. “That was… well, nothing short of spectacular. When I suggested a demonstration, I didn’t expect that.”
He flushed at the compliment. “That was restrained.”
“Phew. Well, if that was restrained, I wouldn’t want to see you completely let go.”
“You and me both.” He gestured to the near-empty area, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice. “Regardless, it doesn’t seem to have helped.”
Olielle placed a hand on his arm and turned him to face her. She took one look at his glum expression and jutted a finger in his face. “You listen to me, Silvano lei Miore’. The people needed to see this. Arianna has been working the general populace for years. They know her. Did you really expect that you could change the tides in one day? Gaining their support and their loyalty will take time, but you will achieve it. Look at what you just did! You scaled a one-hundred-foot cliff with nothing but the power of your Gift. Your sister can’t do that, and they know it.”
“But they were scared of me.”
“Of course they were! I’ve known you since we were infants, and what you just did was terrifying. You inspire awe and fear and that’s something that can’t be faked. Haven’t you ever been afraid of someone’s Gift?”
Silvano opened his mouth to reply with an emphatic no, then closed it. He did fear someone—Mara. Just the memory of her tearing through Order Headquarters, laying waste to everything and everyone in it, was enough to send him into cold sweats. His mouth dried. “That’s not exactly the response I hope to inspire in my people.”
Olielle must have picked up on his inner turmoil. She reached out and looped her arm through his and offered him a soft smile. “Don’t worry. It’s a beginning. In time, you will earn their trust. And then, nothing will tear it from you.”
“Thank you, Olielle.” He pulled her into an embrace and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “What would I do without you?”
“Probably flounder about like a fish in the sand.” Her eyes sparkled, and she laughed. “Come, it’s time you become reacquainted with the nobility. They’ve been following the memory of a specter for so long that they should be reminded of who their leader is.”
He grimaced. “Must we? I see no need to ruin a perfectly good morning.”
“Behave yourself.” She threw him a sharp look that brokered no argument before leading him toward a group of nobles standing on a shaded terrace. Vines wove through the lattice roof, and the musky scent of the nearby wisteria trees filled his nostrils. A handful of servants bustled about, carrying trays of oysters on the half-shell, prawns, and long-stemmed glasses of champagne.
For a moment, he wished he were just another nobleman enjoying a pleasant morning. The reclining chairs by the reflection pool looked particularly inviting. Children, with their pants and skirts hiked up above their knees, waded in the shallows while their parents scolded them about proper behavior. Judging by their giggles and shrieks, the lesson was sticking as well as water to a duck’s back.
At his approach, the men bowed, and the women curtsied. Most were older and had served under his father. It was highly unlikely that they would be on board with the radical changes he planned to make. Silvano didn’t understand why Olielle would parade him around this crowd until he spotted a group of men and women his age—the heirs to their parents’ fortunes. While they didn’t hold any legitimate power yet, they would one day.
He recognized Valeria from the parties he’d attended in his youth, and only Olielle’s iron grip on his arm kept him from turning around and walking the other way. Valeria’s thick, black hair was pulled into a knot at the crown of her head, and long, seashell earrings dipped in silver trailed down to her collarbone. She stood from her shallow curtsy and smoothed the rose-colored fabric of her gown. Her hand lingered at her waist—no doubt intentionally. “Miestryri, a pleasure to see you again,” she simpered.
“I wish I could say the same,” he muttered under his breath. Olielle elbowed him in the side, and he quickly said, “And I, you.”
“I was distraught when I heard of your death. It’s a relief to see you alive and well.” Without breaking eye contact, she plucked an oyster from a passing tray and swallowed it down whole, licking the juice from her lips.
Silvano tried his hardest not to gag. “Funny, I seem to recall you wishing I would jump off the cliff after I rejected your advances.”
Her responding laugh was forced and just a tad too high
-pitched to be natural. “Oh Silvano, you’re positively wicked.”
“Lady Valeria, show some respect to our new Miestryri. Speaking with such informality is unbecoming to us all,” Lord Pierce cut in. Silvano could have kissed him. Lord Pierce had been one of his father’s staunchest supporters until a monumental disagreement had fractured their friendship. Since then, he used every opportunity to speak out against the Miestryri, using his wealth and influence as a shield against retribution. In his prime, he’d been a force to be reckoned with when dealing with the Belosian pirates, though old age, too much drink, and the death of his third wife had clearly taken their toll. Regardless, he would make a valuable ally.
Silvano slipped back into the familiar, albeit unwelcome, role with ease and plastered a charming smile on his face. “Thank you, my lord. It’s wonderful that you could attend this morning.”
“I’m glad I did. It was quite… enlightening.”
Not one to be ignored, Valeria sashayed across the veranda. She crowded close to him, running a hand down his crocodile-skin coat. Silvano threw a panicked look at Olielle, who looked like she was trying not to laugh. Valeria leaned forward on her tiptoes. Her breath tickled his ear as she whispered, “Well, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Perhaps you could return the favor? I’m hosting a gala at my villa this evening, and it would be incredible if you would make an appearance.”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.” He stepped back, putting a more respectable—and comfortable—distance between them. “With the responsibilities of ruling a nation, it’s unlikely that I will be free for certain frivolities.”
Disappointment flashed across her face. Before she could respond, Lord Adwyn said, “That is a relief to hear. I’ll admit I was worried when we’d heard of your return. We couldn’t afford to have a reckless Miestryri at such a crucial time, and you have a certain… reputation.” His beady eyes squinted until his pupils all but disappeared, making him look like a disgruntled turtle. Silvano would have happily ignored him, except for the fact that Lord Adwyn controlled the largest sea glass export in Crystalmoor. The revenue in taxes alone would be critical for funding Silvano’s plans.
Lady Liola, a waspish woman with a vinegar tongue and a penchant for gossip, said, “Indeed. Your escapades are legendary, and not in a good way. If my Ambrose had convinced the sea god’s priestesses to go skinny dipping on a full moon, I would have had him keelhauled. If you think…”
Silvano tuned out the rest of her righteous tirade. Valeria, likely disgruntled by his cold shoulder, slipped away to join a group by the pool. Frowning, Olielle tracked her movement. She lowered her voice so only Silvano could hear it. “I know the two of you have a shaky history, but her father owns three quarters of the fishing fleet. How do you think he’ll react if she tells him how you’ve treated her?”
He groaned. Political maneuvering and catering to the whims of sycophants was not how he’d planned to spend his day. That was Olielle’s strength, so if she thought it was best, he supposed he’d have to tolerate it. He nodded reluctantly.
“Well said, Lady Liola!” Lord Adwyn waggled a finger in Silvano’s direction. “Once a reprobate, always a reprobate, I say. A tiger shark can’t change its stripes, after all.”
Lord Pierce scoffed, “Well, what else is adolescence but a time for wanton behaviors and mistakes. If we were to judge everyone based on the actions of their youth, I’d wager none would look favorably on you, Lord Adwyn.”
“So long as those mistakes won’t follow into your reign.” Lady Liola pinched her leathery lips together and patted her graying hair.
“I understand your concerns.” Silvano held his hands to the side in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. “But I can assure you that exile had changed me in more ways than one. I truly have the best interests of our people at heart, and I am prepared to do whatever it takes to ensure a future for our people.”
Olielle smiled demurely. “I think you’ll find that our Miestryri has matured beyond his years, and he will prove to be the greatest leader Crystalmoor has ever known, but he can’t do it alone. I’m sure he would be grateful for whatever guidance you are generous to offer.”
“Hmm.” Lady Liola preened from the praise, then turned a skeptical eye one him. “In that case, perhaps I could stop by the castle so we could discuss some ideas I’ve had about—”
“That sounds wonderful,” Silvano said through a fake smile. “In fact, you should speak to the small council. I have the utmost confidence in their ability to solve whatever problem you have.”
“I should certainly hope so. There are so many injustices that must be righted immediately.” She pulled a scroll from her handbag and shoved it at his chest. “This is a list of grievances I’ve compiled against my neighbor. Not only has he installed the most abominable eyesore in his front lawn, but his vile children trampled my prized lavender. I demand recompense.”
“Flowers and a fountain? That’s what you’re upset about?” Silvano asked, exasperated. Olielle covered her mouth with her hand to cover her laughter, but nothing could hide the shaking of her shoulders. “Madam, we have very real problems in Crystalmoor that take priority over petty squabbles between neighbors.”
“Well, you could hardly expect the womenfolk to have a head for important matters, my boy!” Lord Pierce chuckled, and Lady Liola swelled like a bullfrog.
“Yes, yes.” Lord Adwyn handed a plate of prawn shells to the closest servant and dabbed his lips with a cloth napkin. “You gave quite a stirring little speech, but we both know there was little substance.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“All that bit about the disparity between the classes and whatnot.” He waved his hand in the air. “You were just giving the people what they wanted to hear. Cleverly done!”
“I can assure you it was genuine,” Silvano replied. He felt Lord Pierce’s appraising eyes on him.
Lord Adwyn spluttered. “But that’s preposterous. The disparity between the classes is what keeps our country strong.”
“And what keeps the coin flowing.”
“Exactly!” Lord Adwyn snapped his fingers, completely missing his sarcastic tone. “You need to understand that our way of doing things, from business to our social order, is perfect as it is. It’s the way things have been done for generations because it works. You’ll see I’m right.”
Silvano opened his mouth, ready to launch into a proper debate, but Olielle squeezed his arm and interrupted. “Thank you, gentleman, my lady. I think it’s time we mingled with some of the other guests now.”
Without another word, she led him away. Silvano didn’t relax until they were out of earshot, and then it felt as if his body was melting. “Well, that was a disaster.”
“Hardly.”
He gave her a side-eyed glance, baffled by her cheerful expression. “Did we just participate in the same conversation?”
She rolled her eyes. “If you’d been paying more attention to what wasn’t spoken to what was, you’d understand. Lord Pierce was quick to defend you against the others, and he despised your father, so he will be the easiest to win to our side. He’s halfway there already. Furthermore, he had an iron hammer pinned to his lapel, which means he recently entered into a trade agreement with Aravell. Find out what, exactly, and how you can help him. And did you notice Lord Adwyn’s doublet? It’s practically frayed through at the collar, and his boots are in desperate need of repair. Interesting, for a man of wealth, isn’t it? What you didn’t know is that a dozen of his combers were lost in a hurricane six months ago, and fewer workers are willing to work for him when they can collect sea glass for free and sell it themselves. He might not approve of you or your ideas, but perhaps he would be more open to the idea if you were to offer assistance.”
“Interesting,” Silvano said, already thinking of the ways he could use this information. He couldn’t force people to work for Lord Adwyn, but perhaps he could make it illegal to collect and sell sea glass without a
permit. And Lord Pierce… what trade agreement could he have made? “And Lady Liola?”
“Is irrelevant. She likes to think herself important, but she’s already turned over the majority of her holdings to her son, Ambrose.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“And why is that?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “About five years ago, I had hosted a party on my pleasure yacht. Ambrose fell overboard, and I might have… left him behind.”
“Oh, Sil, you didn’t!”
“It was low tide,” he said defensively, “and it wasn’t my fault that he swims like a one-legged goose.”
Olielle closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I can only hope he has a short-term memory; otherwise, you’ll have a lot of work to do.”
As they approached the other group, Silvano saw a flash of black out of the corner of his eye. He did a double-take, and caught sight of someone familiar—Mikkal’s sister, Michelle. Guilt flooded his body as he remembered why Mikkal had been bribed in the first place. Visiting her should have been the first thing he’d done when Silvano returned to Crystalmoor. Well, late was better than never. He turned to Olielle and extracted his arm from hers. “Forgive me, but there’s something I need to do.”
“But—”
“Thank you for handling this in my absence,” he said, and hurried away before she could protest.
7
Wearing a nondescript cloak, Silvano weaved through the slums in the far reaches of East Rock. Small, stucco houses squatted together as if bracing against a hurricane. An occasional potted plant and brightly-colored doors and windows added a splash of color to the otherwise monochromatic palette, but not even a dozen layers of paint could mask the poverty he saw. A year ago, he wouldn’t have glanced twice at the suffering. Though he’d been a dreg all his life, he’d grown up pampered behind the castle walls, sheltered from the horrors of reality. But time and circumstance have a funny way of eroding rosy filters.
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