Masquerades - Kate Novak [121]
If Victor knew for sure, he would have told Alias, the paladin insisted.
"Oh, he'll tell her," Olive said. "But not until the time is right."
What time is that?
"When he's certain he's properly positioned to be installed as croamarkh. The halflings at House Thalavar think he's had his eye on the position for eight years, ever since his father cheated him out of it by running for his third term. Lord Victor's an ambitious little viper, but be can't just squeal on his father. He has an image to uphold as the dutiful, loyal son. If Alias accuses Luer, she'll be the one to take the brunt of the nobles' anger for insulting one of their own. Victor will get the credit for helping her fight the Night Masks, but won't be blamed for turning on his father. He's using her, using the way everyone feels about her."
You are speculating, the paladin signed.
Olive hopped down from the chair and strode up to the paladin with her hands on her hips. "I am not speculating,"
she growled, stomping her foot soundlessly in the plush carpeting. "I heard him plotting to overthrow his father, plotting to take over as croamarkh, plotting to use Alias. Now, you have to decide who you're going to believe. There's me, who you've known for eleven years, who helped free you and Alias and Finder from the clutches of Cassana and Zrie and Phalse and who helped you free your people from Moander's slavery. Then there's this silver-tongued greengrocer who you don't know a thing about except that he looks good to your shen sight."
Dragonbait folded his hands together. He did not reply immediately, but Olive could tell from the hamlike scent of worry wafting from his neck glands that she'd gotten through to him. Finally he signed, I must think more about this.
"You do that," the halfling answered. "And while you're at it, think about how you're going to break it to Alias. She's likely to be upset, but she can't be kept in the dark. She's up to her neck in all this, and Westgate politics are even deadlier than the Westgate sewers. I'm going back to House Thalavar. I've managed to wrangle myself into duty as one of Lady Nettel's personal attendants for the ball, so I'll see you both there."
The halfling let herself out, leaving the paladin to brood over her words. It wasn't until Mercy came in with a tray of fruit and bread an hour later that the paladin even moved. He returned the girl's smile and curtsey with a brusque nod, then returned to his thoughts. The young half-elf shook her head at the stuffy smell in the room and opened a window before taking her leave. She couldn't think why the room smelled so of smoke, but then she was unaware that that was the scent of the saurial's fervent prayers.
*****
Lord Victor surveyed the robe and sash he'd had made especially to match Alias's gown. The swordswoman's elven dressmaker had been obnoxiously discreet about what the swordswoman was wearing. Victor had had to
visit her personally to talk her out of the information. It was worth his trouble, though, since it was important that people associate him with Alias tonight. Costuming was only one of several subtle but effective methods to achieve that end.
Almost everything was in place for tonight. Before he dressed for the ball, though, he had one last piece of business with his father.
The croamarkh was where he'd been yesterday afternoon at the same time, indeed, where he could be found every afternoon, in his library, balancing the business accounts personally, double-checking the figures of his accountants, ship captains, customs agents, and warehouse guards. Any discrepancy resulted in angry bellowing to send for the person responsible for the error, even if the error was in the Dhostar clan's favor.
Victor entered the library and stood before his father's desk. "Father?" he said.
"Victor," Luer Dhostar replied curtly, looking up with irritation at the disturbance, his pen