Interesting, Jax thought. She imagined she should see it as a slight that Lysandeir had assigned her such an unseasoned escort, but she was intrigued by the man’s voluntary admission. “May I ask what you did before coming to the palace?”
Roust blushed. “Oh, I’ve been here for many, many years. Probably since before you were born. My father sent me to Croivast to study in the palace archives. I come from a noble Lysandeirian family with little money left to its name. My father couldn’t afford to give me an Academy education, so he sent me here. The Duke’s father was in power then. He set me to work in the archives with some of the historians. I’m somewhat of the resident expert in the Rebirth, if you will.”
Jax did not have to forge her impressed expression. “There are very few scholars left in the world who focus on that period of time. Even my professors at the Academy knew very little about the details of the downfall of the Ancient Faith.”
Roust nodded solemnly. “Yes, unfortunately, because they think the past is over and done with. But as the scholars here always taught me, history is bound to repeat itself.”
Jax found that proclamation odd. As she watched sweat bead across his furrowed brow, she dared a guess. “Do you mean to say you think the Cetachi Accord is reminiscent of the Virtuous Ones deposing the Ancient Faith?”
Roust’s eyes crinkled, and he took a breath for what seemed like the first time in minutes. “Oh, you are a clever girl. I’ve heard tales about you, Duchess. You like to unravel puzzles, am I right?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond. “I know as a Courtier of Lysandeir, I am supposed to support my duchy, but I’m worried about how these peace talks will turn out, Your Grace. When I heard you were going to appear at the summit in person, I asked the Duke to be your escort. Since that role belongs to a Courtier, I became one.”
Jax’s eyes widened. “You left your career as a scholar just so you could walk me around the palace?”
Jax knew Roust’s eyes darted about the room to ensure they were alone. For once, she was grateful that Perry was running behind schedule. As to what was keeping George, she didn’t know. Perhaps he still feared being alone with her and preferred to wait until Perry made his appearance.
The fear in Roust’s trembling voice brought her focus back to him. “I think there is a devious plot afoot, Your Grace, and I want to help you solve it.”
Her eyes widened. “Please, Sir Roust, you cannot say something so shocking and leave me without the details.” Jax tried to be polite as she could, seeing that he shook with genuine distress.
“We don’t have time speak now; they will suspect something amiss if we do not appear at the banquet soon, but if you can meet me in the library later tonight, I will explain what I know.”
“Who is ‘they,’ Roust? Is the Duke planning something?” Jax gripped the man’s arm, silently begging him to speak.
“I don’t know who it was I overheard, Your Grace. I was in the north tower doing some research before I came to fetch you just now. I heard voices in one of the side chambers. Something about causing chaos until certain demands have been made.” Roust looked truly terrified as he recalled the memory.
Jax was about to question him further when the doors to Perry’s and George’s rooms opened and the men joined them in the hall.
Ever her protector, George seemed to immediately sense something was wrong as he reached her side. “Is everything all right, Duchess?” He eyed the courtier with suspicion, his jaw set in a hard line.
“Roust was just telling me that he believes he’s stumbled onto some sort of vicious plot.” Jax quickly brought her companions up to speed, despite the courtier’s protests for secrecy. “Captain Solomon and Lord Pettraud have assisted me in such tricky situations before, Sir Roust. You can trust them as you do me.”
“Whatever you say, Duchess, but we must get down to the banquet hall before Duke Lysandeir sends someone out to find us. To say nothing of whoever I overheard earlier. I don’t believe anyone saw me in the north tower, but you can never be too careful.” Roust hurried them along a flickering passageway Jax did not recall seeing during their earlier journey to the west wing.
“Did you hear anything else?” Captain Solomon further pressed as their Courtier marched them along the path.
“Now is not the time, I’m sorry,” Roust said in a hissing whisper. “We’re too close to the evening’s festivities and the prying ears that may be listening. Please, meet me in the library once dinner concludes. One of the guards stationed at the banquet can show you the way. Now, I must go and announce you all.” Ignoring their protests, he skittered out of sight.
Perry and George both gave Jax worried glances.
“I hope you realize you are not allowed to leave our sights tonight,” George said with brotherly determination. “Not with someone spouting about causing chaos.”
“It certainly sounds like someone does not have peace talks quite foremost in their minds,” Jax murmured, her dry humor not as appreciated as much as it normally would be in light of the danger they could be walking into.
“Who could it have possibly been?” Perry asked quietly as they reached the grand archway leading into the banquet hall.
Ahead of them, Jax saw Duchess Tandora and her lady-in-waiting speaking to several men, each of whom bore the seal of a High Courtier. From the colors accenting their plain robes, she guessed they were from Hestes, Kwatalar, and Beautraud. Duke Crepsta also waited at the archway with his wife, being next in line to be announced and ushered into the dining room. “It doesn’t sound like Roust recognized the voices, which has me worried.”
At that moment, she desperately wanted to tell the two of them that she now suspected Duke Lysandeir of using the peace talks as an opportunity to take Cetachi for his own dukedom, but now wasn’t the time or place. And yet, if Roust hadn’t recognized the voices he’d overheard, Jax feared that this summit might be attacked from multiple fronts.
Clutching the muscular arms of her companions, she pulled them close into her confidences. “See if you can find out who is staying in or around the northern tower. Duke Mensina is in the east wing, so that rules him out, at least for now.” She hated suspecting for even a moment that her grandfather might be plotting behind her back.
“I’ll stay with Jax if you want to make the rounds, Perry,” George suggested. “People here would be more likely to strike up a conversation with you than with me.”
Perry nodded in agreement. “No offense, ol’ chap, but you’re not the best at small talk.” He grinned at the Captain before bestowing a quick kiss on Jax’s cheek. “I’ll try to circle back around dessert and compare notes.”
Perry made his entrance, followed by George, then Jax. All eyes fell on her as she floated into the dazzling candlelit room, her golden jewels illuminating her beauty. The pause in conversation allowed her to take stock of the crowd. She watched Roust leave his post at the stewards’ balcony from where he had just called out her name, heading toward a group of Courtiers whom were likely escorts to the visiting delegations. Duke Mensina was speaking animatedly to Duke Crepsta and a few High Courtiers, while Duke Lysandeir was at the front of the room, introducing his family to Duchess Tandora and her lady-in-waiting.
Jax spied the Duke’s offspring at his side. She had heard stories about the ethereally beautiful triplets, but seeing them in person still left her shocked. She truly hadn’t expected them to look so much alike. The two sons, Lawrence and Landon, could not be distinguished from each other from this distance. Their sister, the famous Lysette, whom Jaquobie had so highly recommended, shared their features but had longer hair and wore a lovely gown. They all had their father’s flaming red hair, Jax having never seen the seemingly unnatural shade anywhere before in her life. The triplets were taller and more slender than their father, likely inheriting their lithe frames from their deceased mother. Jax remembered with sadness that Duchess Lysandeir had died during childbirth. Bearing one child was dangerous enough in the realm these day
s, and three at the same time had proved fatal for the young noble-born woman.
Jax caught a glimpse of Jaquobie off to the side of the large room, inching forward to make an introduction between herself and Lysette, but she wanted to avoid that situation for as long as possible, considering what she had just unearthed about the Duke. Unless she had concrete proof, she did not want to go to Jaquobie with her suspicions, as he would likely accuse her of trying to sabotage his recommendation. She quickly diverted her gaze and focused on the others in the room.
Sauntering to stand at her side, Duke Pettraud was the first to approach, reaching for her hand and planting a reverential kiss on one of her ringed fingers. “It is good to see you looking well, Duchess Jacqueline.”
It had been years since Jax had seen Duke Pettraud in person, the lapse in time likely causing her to forget how much he and his son favored each other. The Duke’s dark curls were laced with gray strands here and there, but overall, he looked incredibly fit and youthful for his fifty-some years. “As do you, Your Excellence,” she replied. “I might mistake you for my betrothed’s brother if the candlelight was just right.”
The debonair man chuckled at her joke, although his jaw seemed stiff at the mention of Perry. “Considering you haven’t thrown my son out of the palace yet, I hope he has been behaving himself.”
She was well aware that before his stay in Saphire, Perry was somewhat of a black sheep in his family, suffering in silence after his mother’s death. While Perry was a skilled fighter and rider like his six older brothers, he also enjoyed the latest fashions and attending the theatre. He was a particularly gifted painter, a talent he’d hidden from his father for fear of punishment. The Duke did not find it suitable for his youngest son to take pleasure in such a delicate activity.
“Lord Pettraud seems to be thriving in the Saphirian court. My people adore him,” Jax replied, managing to hide the annoyance she felt at the question. “I trust you had an uneventful journey up the mountain?” she asked, effectively changing the subject.
The Duke grunted. “I wouldn’t put it past Lysandeir to have summoned this weather himself. It made for a terrible ride up.” Dipping his head closer to Jax, he murmured, “I think Lucien was hoping that some of us wouldn’t show up to this summit, and therefore our votes would count as abstentions.”
Jax’s eyes cast quickly to George, who stood listening from a few steps away, his gaze riveted on her. The faintest of nods conveyed he had caught the Duke’s remark. “Have you heard the latest regarding the vote count?” she asked the Duke in a causal but calculated manner.
Pettraud’s lavender eyes, so similar in shade to Perry’s, filled with heat. “If you are referring to the change in Zaltor’s views, then yes, I have.” His lips tightened into a thin, nearly imperceptible line. “I’ve also heard rumors that Beautraud is this close to switching their vote, as well.”
Jax grimaced. “What could Lysandeir possibly offer Beautraud that our alliance can’t?”
Worry spilled into the Duke’s eyes. “Duchess, have you thought about the possibility of Lysandeir organizing some type of coup to overthrow Saphire’s influence in the realm?”
“I’d be a fool if I didn’t,” Jax hissed, detesting that the Duke thought she would be so naïve about her position. “I spend every waking moment wondering which duchy will try to sabotage the prosperity I have nurtured since taking over for my father.”
At the mention of his old friend, Perry’s father grew quiet. “He would be very proud of you and what you’ve accomplished so far, my dear. You were the brightest star in his life.”
The sincere sentiment took her off guard. “Thank you, Your Excellence.” She left it at that, not wanting to think about her father in this tense moment. She was inclined to say more, that Lucien could never hold a candle to Saphire’s economy ruling from this snowy tundra, but she reined in her temper. “If you’ll excuse me, Duke Pettraud, I’ve spotted my aunt and I must say hello.”
With a parting curtsy, Jax glided over to Lady Annette, who stood in the corner sipping mead from a crystal goblet, her attention elsewhere. As she approached her aunt, Jax, as always, was astounded by the resemblance between Annette and her sister—Jax’s departed mother, Amaryllis. Both had the same delicate nose and high cheekbones. Annette even wore her honey-colored hair in a style similar to Jax’s mother, whose tresses were the same hue. In a marked difference between the sisters, Annette seemed to have an aura of contentment about her, while Jax’s mother had always maintained a mask of cool superiority.
Tonight, Annette looked the part she was meant to play while attending the summit. She easily outshone Duchess Tandora and Duke Crepsta’s wife in her fine satin gown. With a small tiara shimmering in her hair, she looked like a Duchess herself.
“Hello, dear aunt. I am so glad to see a friendly face in the crowd,” Jax cooed as she reached Annette’s side.
Startled from her thoughts, Annette wrapped an arm around her niece. “Goodness, Jacqueline, you gave me a fright. Here I was, thinking I was going to be left to my own devices all evening.” She released Jax and took another reassuring sip of her drink. “What delayed you? People were starting to gossip that you would not be attending tonight’s dinner.”
Cringing, Jax realized Roust’s warnings had been right. Every single one of her movements was being watched and analyzed. “You know Perry. He won’t leave his room until every last seam is crisp and perfect.”
Annette’s eyes slid over to her soon-to-be nephew by marriage. “Well, there’s not a figure in here more dashing than he, so I suppose it’s all worth the wait.” She giggled, then motioned to a platter of fruit tarts on display at a nearby table. “You may want to grab some while you can. There’s no guessing how long Lysandeir is going to rattle on before allowing us to sit down for dinner.”
Jax popped a cherry pastry in her mouth, her stomach grumbling in gratitude. “I pray that he keeps the longwinded speeches for tomorrow, instead of ruining tonight. I think I smell partridge coming from the hall.”
Annette laughed once again, impressed by Jax’s love of food. “You can always sniff out a good meal,” she said lightly before pulling her niece closer. “Father and I are also hopeful that you can unearth Lysandeir’s true intentions regarding this whole Cetachi nonsense.”
“Dear aunt, I must ask you to keep your voice down,” Jax chastised, her eyes scanning their surroundings. She relaxed when she saw there was no one within twenty feet of their little nook. “I’m hoping to gather some more information before the official talks begin tomorrow. Duke Pettraud seems to think Lysandeir is amassing some sort of coup.”
Annette’s eyes widened. “There would be no hope of that. The wealth of Saphire, Mensina, and Pettraud alone is enough to overshadow the other duchies.”
“True,” Jax conceded, “but we don’t really know the wealth that could be hidden in the wilds of Cetachi. Master Fangard certainly seems to have made a small fortune for himself, just based on his appearance alone.” Her eyes caught sight of Darian moving around the room, trying in vain to introduce himself to members of the visiting delegations. She felt a little sorry for him, for most were not giving him the time of day. Even Duchess Tandora, who was supposed to be supporting the Cetachi Accord, hardly acknowledged his presence when he came to speak with her and her lady-in-waiting.
“Have you spent any time with Darian? What do you think of him?” Jax asked her aunt.
Annette’s cheeks blossomed red under her makeup. “We had lunch together, and then tea with my father. Such an engaging conversationalist and very brilliant, despite a lack of formal education. I must say, I won’t be too disappointed by our change in plans, if you know what I mean.” Her lilac eyes, rimmed with the golden hues of her mother’s noble bloodline, appraised the young revolutionary’s striking profile. “He’s so young and hopeful, the poor thing. He thinks that Lysandeir is a champion for his advocating of freedom across Cetachi. Although…” She paused, continuing after
a few seconds, “…he was still shaken up about that Maegus fellow being escorted here.”
Jax continued to survey the subject of their conversation as he moved around the room. She was pleased to see Perry skillfully intercept the Cetachi statesman and strike up a chat. If anyone could befriend Darian and get information out of him unknowingly, it was Perry. “Did he say why?” she said to her aunt. “You’d think he’d want his right-hand man to be by his side during these talks.”
Annette shrugged. “He said tensions were still high after the election. He’s worried that his opposition might try something nefarious while he is away from the region.”
This presented a new angle for Jax to consider. Darian had indeed been elected governor by his people, but what had become of his opponents in the race? She couldn’t imagine they would have accepted defeat lightly. “And he trusted Welles to keep the peace in his stead?” She couldn’t help but snort at the idea of the brooding Maegus as peacekeeper.
“Apparently. Maegus was the leader of a nomadic group from the western shores of the region who approached Darian earlier this year. He wanted to back Darian in the upcoming election,” Annette divulged.
“He just appeared out of thin air and tossed his support to a baker’s son?” Jax shot an incredulous look at her aunt.
“I know it’s hard to get news from the Cetachi region that hasn’t been muddied with gossip, but this is straight from Darian’s lips.” Annette’s eyes glazed over for a moment, and Jax had to wonder if her aunt was picturing those handsome lips doing more than just talking.
Clearing her throat—perhaps to pull her thoughts away from Darian—Annette continued. “Tomorrow, Father has asked for Darian to recount for the summit leaders how the election unfolded, in the hopes of understanding how these players came into power.” She gave Jax a knowing smirk.
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