Andross Guile yawned.

“Starting with this,” Gavin snapped. “Father, you’ve treated Kip like a bastard. He’s not. His mother was a free woman that I elevated to a ladyship during the war. As promachos, that was my right. We married in secret because I was young and I was afraid of what you would say. But we did marry. That’s why I’ve never married since. She’s dead now, but she deserves this of me: Kip is my son, not a bastard, a full son. That you’ve cast aspersions on this, that you’ve doubted my own word is, I’m afraid, further evidence of your advancing senility. You’ll join the Freeing this year, my son. If you don’t feel you can hold out for another eight months I will be at your disposal for a more private ceremony sooner.”

No one moved. No one even breathed. A small, detached part of Gavin marveled. He could dissolve an entire satrapy and unseat one of the Colors, and they were perturbed—but see him cross his father and they were flabbergasted.

“Senility?” Barely more than a whisper. Dangerously amused.

And now we find out how far gone to red he is.

But Andross Guile was as cold as an old red could be. He saw the trap. If he screamed, if he lost his temper, he’d be making Gavin’s case.

“If that is what my Lord Prism believes, I shall of course go to the Freeing at the time you appoint. As must surely we all. I only wonder what I have done to offend you? Why do you lash out at me, my son?”

A nice seed to plant, father. Well played. Yes, the Prism can send me to my grave. He can send any of us to our graves. Think about that. Turn it so that I look unreasonable instead.

“No,” Gavin said. “No. You endangered my son. On purpose. No more lies. Grinwoody, take him out.”

“Son,” Andross Guile said, and now his voice was tight. “You will show me the proper reverence.”

“Ignoring you when you act the fool and removing you from the public eye when you disgrace yourself is the proper reverence. Grinwoody!”

Andross Guile’s fingers trembled. His jowls quivered. But he controlled himself. After a long moment, he turned and left, led by Grinwoody.

No one said anything. No one met Gavin’s eyes.

“It would behoove us,” Gavin said, “to begin considering who may be the next Red. I will be amenable to suggestions.” I know I’ve pushed things; I know that I’ve frightened you, and to make up for it, I’ll let one of you have what you want. I’ll let one of you place your woman or man on the Red seat, and not try to place my own. Tit for tat.

You want to plant seeds, father? Let’s do.

“Now, before we adjourn this meeting,” Gavin said, “unless there are any other motions?”

No one said anything.

“Delara?” Gavin prompted.

Her eyes widened as she caught his implication. “I move we declare war,” she said.

“Seconded,” Arys said.

“Seers Island votes for war,” Gavin said. “The Prism votes for war.”

“Atash votes for war,” Delara Orange said.

“Blood Forest votes for war,” Arys Sub-red said.

“But the Red is—” Klytos Blue said.

“You wish to leave the room during a vote to fetch him?” Gavin said. “If you go, your vote won’t be recorded.”

“You can’t!” Klytos said.

Gavin spoke instantly, but slowly, enunciating each word, seizing control of even the speed of the conversation. “Those are very dangerous words to say to me.”

Pregnant silence. Cowards sometimes find their spines at inconvenient moments. But then Klytos withered.

“Your vote and his are entered as no votes,” Gavin said. Truth was, he couldn’t let this vote be challenged after the fact. That would tangle things up for weeks more.

“Abornea votes no, with great personal regret,” Jia Tolver said. Gavin expected as much. She was doubtless under strict orders.

Gavin needed either Sadah Superviolet or the White. He was certain the White would vote with him.

Apparently Sadah thought the same. She was looking at the White.

“Paria votes for war,” Sadah said. And that was the win.

Klytos blinked. “High Lord Prism, Ruthgar wishes to stand in unity with her neighbors. Ruthgar votes yes.”

“Of course,” Gavin said. He sent the declaration around the room, and everyone signed it. They allowed Andross an abstention, and the White signed it.

The room slowly emptied. No one said a word.

Oddly enough, Jia Tolver stayed behind. Gavin would have expected the White. Jia’s single dark eyebrow was wrinkled. When the last person other than Gavin’s Blackguards had left the room, she leaned over. “My Lord Prism, so you know, if they’d called the vote on your own personal satrapy, I would’ve voted against you. They’d have had their supermajority. Your arrogance always treads the line. Today, you overstepped. You won. You won everything. But don’t count on me as a safe vote ever again.”

She left. Gavin scrubbed his hands through his hair. He needed a drink. He looked at his Blackguards. They looked impassive. He wondered how they did that. They were the crazy ones around here.

He stood and went to the door. They said nothing, but one of the Blackguards preceded him, not a precaution they always took.

The White was waiting for him in the hall.

He didn’t stop, and she motioned to her Blackguard to wheel her along at the same speed Gavin was walking.

“What have you done, Gavin?”

Gavin got onto the lift. “I’m going down,” he said, turning to face her, trying to forestall her from joining him.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she said. She held him by the force of her personality, let her question hang in the air, demanding an answer.

“I lied and cheated and manipulated, and I won. And I did it all for good reasons. For once.”

“All good reasons?” she asked.

He said nothing. Threw the brake open and dropped from sight.

Chapter 77

“I’ve got something to say. It’s not going to be easy,” Samite said.

Karris had barely finished washing up and getting dressed when Samite came into the Archers’ side of the barracks. Samite was one of Karris’s best friends in the Blackguard: squat, tough, smart, and unfailingly awkward when she tried to be tender. Karris paused, comb in hand. “What’s going on?”

Samite sat heavily on the edge of Karris’s bed. “K, you know how the lords and ladies of the great houses are always trying to get to us Blackguards and make us spies or deserters?”

“I—What does that have to do with anything?”

“One of them got to me. Years ago.”

“What?! Sami, stop! What are you doing?”

“What I should have done a long time ago.” Samite’s face was grim but stubborn. She sat with her elbows on her thighs, hands clasped across each other.

“Who?” Karris barely breathed the word.

“Lady Felia Guile.”

“Lady Guile subverted you?” Karris asked. She’d liked Lady Guile, a lot. Had thought for years that the woman would be her mother-in-law, and the closest thing to a mother Karris would ever know. “How’d she—No, never mind. I don’t need to know. Sami, she’s gone. You don’t need to do this.”