If it hadn’t been for the poisoning, Tsubame would have never suspected her. Sure Saha had always been a little feisty, a little too smart for her own good and like she didn’t belong within the confines of the compound, or at the very least acted like she was supposed to be more that simply a concubine or servant, but Tsubame didn’t blame her for that. When she had been younger, long before she had unwittingly started on the path to becoming queen, she had certainly acted like she was more than what she was. That never made Tsubame suspicious, but that in combination with the poisoning and the fact that Saha had been one of Ahmed’s favorite bed warmers before he turned his attention to Tsubame and died gave the woman a clear if not obvious motive and she also had the personality to do it. It wouldn’t surprise Tsubame if the woman had also targeted her. However, Tsubame made a point not to drink anything in a public.
There weren’t many ways that Tsubame could proceed, at least not in regards to dealing with Saha. At this point it would simply be best to follow the old proverb and keep this unexpected enemy close to her. But in regards to how things would proceed with the council, it opened up a world of possibilities for her, one in particular that Tsubame thought would take much more maneuvering and perhaps even a marriage to pull off. But with no apparent successor or second-in-command because Fathi seemed to have enjoyed seeing his closest guards and advisors compete physically until he could weed out the one whom he’d be able to most trust as his second and now in the midst of a culture that while not totally respectful of a woman might hear what she had to say, it meant that Tsubame had the perfect opportunity to take charge and show everyone just what kind of power she had without anyone being suspicious. A woman scorned, as the cliché went.
So when she heard that the families and the council were going to have an impromptu meeting to discuss how they would proceed, Tsubame made her way down, hardly giving her maids any time to chase after her as she made her way to the conference room. She barged into the room without knocking, pausing in the doorway more to allow the council to see who had rushed in than for dramatic effect.
Once everyone registered that she had burst into the room uninvited also giving her maids time to catch up with her, she looked around the table and seeing that there was no extra seat, she summoned a chair to the round table between the Magic Council and the Chinese family.
By the time everyone got over their wariness and shock, Tsubame had seated herself at the table.
“What are you doing here?” Anya asked.
“Here to discuss the fate of my country now that Fathi isn’t around to do it himself,” Tsubame said curtly. “I didn’t even get the memo that this meeting was taking place. Luckily one of my maids was able to get the information and pass it on to me.”
“We didn’t know we were supposed to notify you,” Anya pointed out.
“Well, there was a reason I’ve been sitting at this table on and off for the past few weeks,” Tsubame said, effectively killing any argument that anyone at the table may have had and if they did have an argument, no one wanted to risk the ire of the woman who summoned a sandstorm to take down a drone. Tsubame’s lip twitched with a smile. It was good to be able to openly act like the queen she was, even if it was in something so little. “Nonetheless, pardon the interruption. Continue.”
Tsubame leaned back pretending not to notice the way everyone’s eyes darted this way and that towards their superior’s. Even Anya, who Tsubame noticed right away also had an aura of being better than the place she was at but was too blind to realize that the sky wasn’t her limit, glanced at her superior, an older man with a neat white beard and blue eyes. In the end, they all looked to him and the man looked at Tsubame. Tsubame locked eyes with him. For a long while, the two stared at each other, no one daring to speak. Finally, the old man looked away from her and Tsubame smiled in feigned politeness. Now it was not only apparent that she held the ace card at this table, it was apparent that she knew it and would use it if needed.
Finally, the old man spoke.
“We’re extensively investigating who might have poisoned your commander,” he said.
“Of course you’re investigating it. Wouldn’t want this as a stain against the Magic Council. That you invited a diplomat for peace negotiations and he ended up fighting for his life, maybe even potentially dead. Just think the ammunition that would give to your allies who have no problems becoming your enemies,” Tsubame said.
It was no secret who she was talking about. The Thorne Family, whose territory was most of the western world that lied across the Atlantic Ocean but in particular the United States of America, were always looking for a noble humanitarian cause that could act as a shield for their more malicious and selfish deeds. It was the reason why the Thornes and the Romanovs were at odds as it were. The Romanovs wanted to bomb the Middle East to oblivion to not only get rid of the threat of a powerful magic family rising but to take advantage of the resources that lay beneath the feet of those too busy fighting each other over philosophical and religious beliefs to notice. The Thorne’s on the other hand tried to do things in an underhanded diplomatic way, calling to allow refugees into their country and even willing to help stop the fighting with the might of their military in hopes of throwing it up in the faces of their beneficiaries every time they wanted access to their riches. So it was only natural that if the Thorne family caught wind of the fact that a leader was killed during a diplomatic peace conference that both the Magic Council and the Russian family was coincidentally at, they’d find a way to spin it into one of their noble humanitarian causes and even start a noble war against Russia in defense of a helpless baby nation who was trying to get on its feet. It was the last thing the Magic Council wanted or needed.
“Is that a threat?” Anya asked
“No. Just stating a fact,” Tsubame said, avoiding mentioning that if she wanted to threaten anyone, she wouldn’t need to resort to tattle telling like a little preschooler to do it.
“Then what are you saying.”
“I’m saying that if you don’t want that happen, you all better start explaining to me exactly why Fathi is lying in a bed on the brink of death or I’ll be forced to make certain assumptions about the Magic Council and the families at this table, after which I won’t be held responsible for my actions. And you’ve seen what my actions can do,” Tsubame said curtly before adding, “That was a threat.”
“We have a suspect,” Anya said curtly. “We only wish we had realized sooner what might have been going on. Maybe if we had, we could have stopped it.”
Tsubame narrowed her eyes before she could even think if it were the best way to react to Anya’s statement. Luckily, the expression was fluid enough that no one at the table would be able to read her. It wasn’t shocking that they had a suspect, a scapegoat to put the crime on when they probably had no clue, but it was somewhat shocking that they were implying some sort of responsibility for what had happened. Even the implication wasn’t common from these types of rulers.
“So you have someone?” Tsubame asked, because it certainly wasn’t the culprit. She didn’t have any evidence but centuries of watching people and observing situations gave her insight into situations without having all the information, so much so that she didn’t have to take the time to read the universe and the future when she needed to know something. What the council had was a convenient scapegoat. Of that, Tsubame had no doubt.
“Who?” Tsubame asked when it appeared no one wanted to answer.
“MaLeila Samara.”
If the matter weren’t so serious, Tsubame would have laughed. The girl had too high a sense of morality to even begin to justify killing a leader who hadn’t done anything to her. She was also too reactionary, at least when it came to the magical world. There was no way the girl would do something as proactive as kill someone to spur future events. But even more serious was the fact that they were going to use the girl as a scapegoat at all. If the council followed that line of thinking through to concl
usion, things wouldn’t end well for the girl.
“And what evidence do you have against her?”
“Who else would it have been?” Anya asked. “She’s the only here with a motive and without any political ties at risk.”
“And what would be her motive?” Tsubame asked.
“Revenge first, possibly getting her boyfriend on the Magic Council which would give her more reach in the magical world,” the old council member said. “We all know what would happen if there were sufficient evidence against us to try us.”
“No. What?” Tsubame lied. She knew of course, but Nadiyyah wasn’t supposed to.
“They would be tried before the magic families, possibly relieved of their duties, and other members voted to take their place,” said Hou Min, the Head of the Chinese Clan. “The last time we tried a council member was for the last World War which resulted in Anya being elected.”
“And you think that Miss Samara would poison Fathi in order to get her boyfriend on the council?” Tsubame asked and then laughed. “I think that’s a stretch.”
“How would you know if it was a stretch or not? You’ve never dealt with the girl before. You hardly know anything about our world.”
Tsubame pressed her lips together. That was true, if he were talking about the dessert woman Nadiyyah who managed to worm her way into a commander’s bed and influence him to kill his superior. But Tsubame, the three century year old queen who planned on manipulating her way to becoming queen of a second world, knew that it was very much a stretch. She had to pretend to be Nadiyyah though. However, what Nadiyyah did have was a keen intuition and that was something Tsubame could use to imply what she knew without suspicion.
“From what I’ve heard of Miss Samara, she has no interest in the power the Magic Council or any of the magic families could give her. She broke up with the heir of the Long Clan, and you travel all the way to her home in the states because she won’t answer your summons,” Tsubame said. That fact was common knowledge and caused scandal in the magical community, and it was one of the first things Tsubame overheard about the girl from the families when they first arrived for the peace talks.
Tsubame continued, “That said, it does seem like a little bit of a stretch for her to suddenly want to get involved with a council representative and go through the trouble of attempted murder in order to broaden her reach in the magical world when she could have stayed involved with the Long heir. Not to mention Miss Samara and Council Representative Brant were involved long before this crisis. However, since you know Miss Samara better than I do, I could be wrong about. But it doesn’t make sense to me.”
The old councilman responded promptly, “She can see the future.”
Tsubame pressed her lips together harder. Finally she said, “Oh can she?”
“About as well as I could read the newspaper,” the man replied.
Tsubame doubted it. She could see the immediate future about as well as the man could read the paper if she wanted. Immediate being the next five minutes or so. She could see a little further with limited concentration, but futures more than three or four months in the future took meditation, a concentration on the innate connection she had with the universe that made her the sorceress she was. To see more than six months, almost a year into the future, down to every minute action that would lead to a certain outcome or event took much more than that. She doubted a little girl who had barely used her magic for six years could see that far that easily, no matter how much potential she had. But now wasn’t the time to reveal that she was well aware of all that either. For the moment, she decided not to argue.
“So what do we do now?” Tsubame asked tightly.
“We question the girl. Try to get a confession out of her,” Hou Min said.
“And if she doesn’t confess,” Tsubame asked.
“We trap her in her lies,” Anya replied. “I’ll go summon the girl.”
“Surely you aren’t planning on questioning the girl tonight?” Tsubame suddenly interjected. “It could take hours and though I made sure to be at this meeting, I’d rather face the girl fully refreshed.”
“She’s right,” said the Long matriarch who was representing the Long family in lieu of her heir. “We’ll summon her in the morning.”
That said, the group dispersed and Tsubame swept out the room, her maids following behind her. Under less suspicious circumstances, she would have promptly made her way to warn the girl. A scandal wouldn’t ruin her chances of becoming a prodigy, but it would certainly make things a lot more difficult than they had to be, possibly setting back her plan years. Hopefully, the events she had set in motion to have the girl walking to her waiting hands worked much faster than she intended it to.
20
MaLeila didn’t care much about politics. She understood politics, knew how to navigate the political atmosphere if she needed to thanks to years of navigating the political climate of the magical world, but the things that made politicians and people who really cared about that kind of stuff lose their shit didn’t bother MaLeila, didn’t make her apprehensive about the consequences because those consequences only really ever affected those with power they wanted to keep. And though MaLeila was certainly powerful magically, she had no political or economic clout to speak of so she was never directly affected by the turmoil of the magical world.
Something—nothing she could pinpoint magically, just a feeling—told her that this time wouldn’t be the case. So when Marcel came into the room looking a mixture between tired and exasperated, MaLeila stood up from where she was sitting on the bed and demanded, “What’s going on?”
Marcel shrugged as he sat on the bed, took off his shoes, and began to undo his suit jacket and tie.
MaLeila pressed her lips together. Since Fathi’s poisoning, Bastet and Marcel both practically commanded Devdan to take her back to her room and come back. MaLeila was ordered to stay in the room until one of them came to get her. Normally, she nor Devdan were good at taking direct orders, especially Devdan unless they were in the heat of a fight. But like Devdan said, they were in a fight that didn’t require fists, at least not yet. And the first rule of their fights was only to put MaLeila in the heat of the danger if they absolutely had to or until she was absolutely sure she had a solution. MaLeila had no solution to this fight though and now she was restless and someone was going to tell her something.
“Don’t start treating me like Devdan and Bastet. Tell me what’s going on?” she snapped.
“I really don’t know,” Marcel grumbled. “They won’t tell me anything. They’re having some damn meeting tomorrow. It’s so important one of the head council members is coming in tomorrow to undoubtedly help find a scapegoat to cover their asses.”
“Where are Bastet and Devdan?”
“At the hospital making sure that whoever poisoned Fathi doesn’t try to finish him off,” Marcel replied. “Everything’s up in the air right now and there’s really nothing either of us can do about.”
“Do you think it could have been Tsubame?” MaLeila asked.
Marcel huffed as he took off his undershirt and said, “I doubt she would have gone through the trouble of getting in the guy’s bed only to off him at this point. She would have benefitted more from waiting for him to marry her or something. As it is though, she’s probably figured out a way to work this to her advantage.”
The casualness with which he spoke about Tsubame took MaLeila back to the conversation she had with Devdan right before the chaotic aftermath of Fathi’s poisoning. Before she would have brushed off the casualness, the nonchalant matter-of-fact way he referred to Tsubame, like he was used to dealing with her. It was the same tone Devdan used when she did something that used to bother him but that he had long since accepted as something she would just do. MaLeila pressed her lips together as she recalled Devdan’s advice to her.
“You sound so sure of that. Almost like you know Tsubame,” she said dryly.
“I told you I’ve dealt wit
h people like her before. It’s not their style.”
That was probably true, but what he still wasn’t outright saying was that he didn’t know Tsubame. It was a tactic Devdan used on people. Make them focus on what he did say but not what he didn’t. It covered his bases in case someone wanted to call him a liar later. You couldn’t be called a liar if you didn’t lie.
“So you do know her?” MaLeila pressed eyes boring into his now bare back.
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you won’t say you don’t.”
“MaLeila, I really don’t want to talk about your suspicion that I know Tsubame right now,” Marcel said dryly.
“We don’t have to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to know if you know her or not or even knew her and you’re not giving me a straight answer.”
Marcel stood up and turned to face her. He rolled his eyes and said, “How much more of a straight answer do you need. I said--.”
“I know what you said,” MaLeila yelled without meaning too, but her heart was racing and the voice in the back of her head that sounded a lot like Devdan kept whispering something that sounded more and more like the truth the more Marcel tried to dance around it. In a quieter, but strained voice she repeated. “I know what you said. But it’s what you’re not saying that makes the difference. So yes or no. Do you know Tsubame?”
While she waited on him to answer, she searched his eyes and when he was silent, she found the answer in his eyes that he wouldn’t say with his mouth.
“Fuck,” she whispered as the realization hit her.
“MaLeila,” Marcel said taking a step towards her.
MaLeila started to take a step back and then her eyes landed on Marcel’s chest where his family crest hung from a chain on his neck. Until now she hadn’t paid it much attention, but Tsubame had inspected it and suddenly MaLeila wondered why. She stepped back forward and grabbed the pendant, inspecting the piece of gold jewelry for the first time. A sun with a new crescent moon and star tucked into it.
The Immortal Queen Tsubame: Awakening Page 20