Throne of Lies by H. L. Moore

Author:H. L. Moore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: H. L. Moore

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Three copies of a Memorandum of Understanding between Kaufman, Devon Manufacturers and the crown were produced by Tacitus for signing by all three parties. One would remain with Kaufman, one with Devonshire, and the third would be filed in the Conservatorium of Academics’ archives.

“…must prepare a press release immediately,” Devonshire rambled as he pulled a fine bottle of sparking white wine from his satchel, offering a sheepish grin when Grace raised an eyebrow at his presumption. She nonetheless signalled to Tacitus to arrange some glasses to be brought into the room. “We could have it distributed to the Chronicle and Arajoni Morning Herald by morning, just in time for the Tiamonts’ ball!”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, Lord Devonshire,” Grace said. “This will mean nothing if I can’t gain the consent of the Draoidhean.”

“Not nothing,” Devonshire reassured her as he popped the cork of the bottle and started to fill the flutes delivered on an expertly balanced tray by one of the palace servants. “You are responsible for Devon Manufacturer’s renewed partnership with Professor Meirav Kaufman! That alone is a remarkable feat, and it will make other more sensible minds in the Bronze pay attention to you. As for the Draoidhean… alas, Murchadha’s death was unfortunate. But there’s no proof the Council of Elders were responsible. We cannot assume the tragedy of his death is in any way related to the Scheme.”

“I’m glad you agree,” Grace said. “I’d intended to travel to the Valley myself to negotiate with them directly, but…”

But she couldn’t – not while Odessa and her ilk circled the palace like ravenous wolves.

Devonshire waved a hand. “Captain Iovanius declared for you! Odessa wouldn’t dare challenge the soldiers. I’ve no doubt you’ll be able to visit the Draoidhean without fear of a Bronze coup within weeks, once they’ve all settled down and remembered why none of them wanted Odessa married to the throne in the first place. No, the Bronze really has no idea how lucky this city was to end up with you as the Dowager Archon after Bryson’s death, instead of Odessa by proxy.”

Lucky.

Right.

“You know, you’re not what I expected, Your Grace,” Devonshire mused, passing her a flute of fizzing wine. “I thought…”

“You thought I was Bryson’s pretty young bride,” Grace said, “plucked from the protected walls of my grandmother’s house to use as a pawn in his struggle with the Black Lung Gang.”

Devonshire, his confidence now greatly restored, possessed far too much gall to even pretend to be ashamed.

“The shock Odessa must have felt when she realised how deeply the Bronze underestimated you,” he declared.

Doran accepted a flute filled with plain water, as did Samantha. Morgenstern, making himself part of the furniture in the background, didn’t partake at all.

Once everyone else had been served, Devonshire raised his glass.

“To the Scheme!” he cried.

“To the Scheme!” everyone echoed. A series of clinking glasses filled the room. Grace took a polite sip of her flute and quickly abandoned it on the table, while Devonshire swallowed half of his drink in a single mouthful.

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