Masquerades - Kate Novak [113]
"Your lack of propriety is not my concern," Luer replied to his son. "It is the appearance of impropriety I cannot tolerate. If that girl is there, I will not attend the ball."
Someone rapped at the door frame, and Luer barked, "Enter."
Kimbel stepped into the room. "Excuse me, Lord Luer," the assassin-turned-servant begged. "Lord Orgule has sent his son with a message. He awaits your reply in the hall." Kimbel proffered a scrap of parchment.
Luer read the message and cursed softly. "Orgule could foul up a one-horse parade," he muttered, pushing himself out of his chair. "I'll speak with the boy myself," he said as he stalked over to the door. Just before he stepped out of the room, he whirled about to address Victor once more. "Get into some dry things," he ordered, "before you ruin the carpets."
When the croamarkh had gone, Kimbel closed the door softly behind him. Victor flopped into his father's chair and propped his feet up on the desk.
"He is a fool, you know," the young lord said.
"So you have informed me," Kimbel replied without a trace of irony or humor.
"He refuses to see how useful Alias is," Victor steamed.
Useful! Olive thought angrily. Is that all you have to say about a girl who's welcomed you with her arms and lips and given you a token of her regard? You Westgate nobles are so romantic.
"The rabble is rather taken with her, thanks to Jamal," Kimbel noted, "but, aside from House Thalavar, the noble families are cool."
"Short-sighted fools," Victor muttered. Olive could see his jaw clenched in irritation.
"It's hardly surprising," Kimbel pointed out. "Every one of them has some involvement with the Night Masks, which they wish to remain hidden. They do not perceive this Alias as an ally. You do not want to offend them. After all, it is still the noble families who choose the croamarkh."
"Hah!" Victor laughed, and there was a bully-like tone to his amusement. "Imagine how they'll all look when they discover that their very own croamarkh is the leader of the Night Masks."
Olive almost gasped with surprise.
"It should leave them in a decided quandary, sir," Kimbel replied as calmly as if he and the merchant lord were discussing the price increase of Selgaunt marble.
Victor laughed the same unpleasant laugh again. "They'll be no better off than the rabble they consider their inferiors. The only way they'll manage to hold on to their power is by choosing a popular candidate-the one wearing the token of Alias of the Inner Sea-the woman who freed them from the yoke of the Night Masks." Victor took a small case from his tunic, opened it, and displayed the braid of hair that Alias had cut off and given him. It was now fastened to a pin. "If the nobles are frightened enough by the Faceless's plot to destroy them all, they may even be convinced that it is time to restore a monarchy, return Westgate to the status of a kingdom."
"Is it certain then that the croamarkh will be revealed as the Faceless?" Kimbel asked.
"Alias and her companions stumbled upon me investigating the Faceless's lair. I got in with this key," Victor said, holding up the key he'd shown Olive earlier. "Unfortunately, like a fool, I touched off a water trap and we were all washed out to the sewer, where we barely escaped the quelzarn. I had to admit to Alias that I found the key in my father's desk. She has given me time to ask him to explain the key. I do not think he will do so."
"No," Kimbel agreed.
"Alias should be with Durgar now, planning to check out this lair at the next low tide. In the meantime, you and I both have lots to do," the noble said, rising to his feet. "Come along."
Victor strode to the door. He passed so close to the mounted displacer beast Olive hid behind that the halfling could feel the breeze of his passing. Olive held her breath as the nobleman exited the room.
Kimbel paused for a moment by the doorway, and the former assassin's eyes narrowed, much the same way, Olive thought, as Dragonbait's did when the paladin was using his shen sight. Kimbel stared