“Rise and speak, Lord Kurtis,” she commanded as she moved toward her small throne.
“Preparations are under way for you to move to the Limerian palace tomorrow, your grace,” he said.
“Excellent.” Gaius had suggested the move three days earlier, before his departure, and she’d rather not stay at the villa any longer than absolutely necessary.
She strived for patience as Kurtis struggled, one-handed, to sort through his armful of papers.
“Have my men reported anything on my husband’s current whereabouts?” she asked.
He scanned a few more pieces of parchment before replying. “No, your grace. Not yet.”
“Really? Nothing at all?”
“No.” He gave her a thin smile. “But I’m sure he’d be pleased to know that his wife is so eager to have him return to her side.”
“Yes, of course.” Amara regarded him for a moment in silence, still trying to decide whether or not she’d come to value his presence over the last few days. According to Gaius—and Kurtis himself—this young man had been a worthy grand kingsliege, one who’d held command of Limeros for months before Magnus arrived and tore his power away.
Amara’s gaze drifted to the stump of Kurtis’s right arm. Despite the dressing of fresh white bandages, a blotch of blood had begun to seep through.
“What other news is there?” she asked, taking a sip from her goblet of cider that Nerissa had provided earlier.
“My father, Lord Gareth, has sent a message.”
“Read it to me.”
He unrolled the parchment, dropping several others pieces of paper to the floor. “Great Empress, first, my deepest congratulations on your marriage to King Gaius, a true and dear friend of mine. He sent word to me about the current situation in Mytica, and I wish for you to know that I understand the situation and embrace this chance to serve my glorious new empress in any capacity you may require.”
Yes, Amara thought wryly, I’m quite sure he does, given that the alternative is death or imprisonment.
“For now,” Kurtis continued, “unless you command my services elsewhere, I will remain at the Auranian palace in the City of Gold. Please know that I shall welcome any and all Kraeshians as friends and allies.”
“Very good.” Amara gifted Kurtis with a small smile when he finished. “Your father sounds a great deal like you. Very amenable to unexpected changes.”
Kurtis returned her modest grin with a simpering one of his own, telling her that he took this wry observation as a compliment. “We both have a knack for recognizing greatness in a leader.”
“That’s very wise of you,” she said through teeth made to ache by Kurtis’s cloying comment.
In her periphery, she saw Nerissa enter the room with a tray of food and wine. The girl quietly placed it on a table. When Kurtis immediately gestured to her to leave, Amara turned toward the door.
“Stay,” Amara commanded her. “I want to speak with you.”
Nerissa bowed. “Yes, empress.”
“Lord Kurtis, is that all the news for the day you have to share with me?”
Kurtis’s back stiffened. “I have many more papers to read to you.”
“Yes, but do they contain anything important?” She raised an eyebrow and waited. “Vital? Any news of my soldiers on the brink of a revolt against their new ruler? Or news of Prince Ashur’s imminent arrival?”
“No, your grace.”
“Then you may leave us.”
“Yes, your grace.” Without another word, Kurtis bowed his head and left the room. In the few days she’d known the kingsliege, she’d realized one important thing: He took commands very well.
Nerissa waited by the door.
Amara stood up from her throne and smoothed her skirts as she approached the girl. “Bring the wine and come with me.”
Nerissa did as instructed, and Amara led her to her living chambers, a series of rooms that were more comfortable and much less formal. “Please, sit,” she said.
Nerissa hesitated for only a short moment before taking the seat next to Amara, who had chosen an overstuffed velvet armchair positioned in front of the vanity mirror.
Cleo had known a great deal about the Kindred. There was a chance her attendant might have overheard something important that might help Amara, especially in terms of Lucia’s importance in the matter. Amara planned to coax out whatever Nerissa might know.
“We haven’t had a chance to speak privately since you were assigned to me,” Amara said. “There is much about you that makes me curious, Nerissa Florens.”
“That you would be curious about someone like me is an honor,” Nerissa replied politely.
“Florens . . . That’s an unusual surname for a Mytican. Yes?”
“Quite unusual, yes. But my family isn’t from Mytica. Not originally. My mother brought me here when I was a little girl.”
“And what of your father?”
“Killed in a battle when the city of my birth was invaded.”
A small gasp escaped Amara’s lips. “You speak so bluntly and without emotion. It’s as if you’re a Kraeshian like me.”
The corner of Nerissa’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “My origins aren’t any more Kraeshian than they are Mytican, although your father did try his best to change that. My family was from the Gavenos Islands.”
“Ah, yes.” That made perfect sense. Florens did sound very much like the surnames common in the Gavenos Islands, a cluster of small kingdoms that Amara’s father had easily conquered when she was just a child. “I’m surprised you’ve chosen to reveal this to me.”