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sir. I will increase the efforts from the Celestial Cloaks. They seem content with our current offerings, but our coffers won’t last forever. With your permission, I can put together a few fireteams of the Noxelite and Solite.”

“Do as you must. And as for payment to that rejected group of assassins, offer them a surplus of ironwood.”

“Ironwood, sir?” His face distorts.

I nod my confirmation. If they accept ironwood as payment, that suggests they have use for it. They could always sell it back to the market at a high value, but that would leave a trail. Their secrecy is of utmost importance. They prefer coin. Unregulated, undetected. If they accept ironwood as payment, they will use it for armor and defenses for whatever army they’re assembling. It furthers my suspicions of what side they’re truly on.

“Very well, sir. I will offer them payment in ironwood.” He turns his head down the long corridor, giving me a sidelong glance. We continue walking.

“And of the Dihkai we extract, how do they react? What are you telling them? Where are you putting them?”

“Err…to retain secrecy of these unfolding matters, it’s been rather forceful, I’m afraid. The Hiberneyts have used slumber tactics for ease of transporting, and we have developed a refugee camp of sorts on the outskirts of the capital, sir. When they awake, we give them what information we can and let them know it is for the better.”

“So, you’ve built a detention facility and are holding them captive.”

“Err…yes, I suppose so.”

“Good. They need not know the extent of this rebellion.” I suspect we are only extracting half of what we could and the other half is feeding this army they build. If my suspicions come to fruition, we’ll have to abandon the Celestial Cloaks and utilize the Crimson Guard. If it comes to that, there won’t be any more secrecy in the matter. Tongues will spatter, and stories will grow. It will be the beginning of a new era I don’t want to revisit. “Let’s extinguish it before it grows, and we can release the refugees back to their daily routines. Now, what do you propose we do to remove the rebellion?”

“Taoiseach, sir. That is not my place of expertise. As much as I loathe the man, if you had more trust in the other Parliament members, I would suggest discussing this matter with your second in command.”

Does he know about Ellia as well? No. It’s impossible. Otherwise, he would know of Jaymes McLarin’s whereabouts. He doesn’t have that many spies. He speaks of Kell.

“Or you can seek out tactics from Shambrock. Although unsophisticated, his men are true to him. His tactics and cunning might be the avenue you need to find a way to exterminate these traitors.”

It’s humorous he believes I have trust in him. A man with so many secrets can never be trusted. Nigel is simply a fountain of information. I trust no one. Not even my own Shadow.

“Thank you for your council, Nigel. I will take care of it.”

“Taoiseach, sir. May I ask how?”

“No.” I come to a halt in the corridor again. “Now, please excuse me. I have other obligations I must attend to.”

Nigel stares at me for a long moment. Fool. He thinks he knows of my entire day’s schedule. I don’t know why I fretted over him knowing about me killing the general. He knows nothing more than what his rats tell him, and there are no rats scrambling within my walls. He’s a weak human being who has gained his position through secrets and gabbing at the most opportune moments. In the end, I will rid myself of his existence along with the rest of Parliament. Soon enough.

Nigel nods his acceptance and departs down the corridor with his head high and a sureness in his step. What does he know? Eh, it is not relevant to my agenda.

I stroll in the opposite direction, turn the corner, and open the door to her chamber. My eyes light up. The furniture is cluttered about the place. Everything has been shuffled from its correct place and tossed about. Chairs are toppled over, curtains ripped from the windows, a davenport on end—it’s a mess! Jaymes stands by the window with an ungrateful sneer.

I look down to see the entire floor, once overlaid with wenge planks, has been degenerated. The hardwood flooring is gone, leaving only the rough stone underneath covered in a layer of black dust. All the furniture has not only been toppled but destroyed as well. There are missing legs, charred cushions, and black markings where she has recklessly abused her talents.

I’m at a loss for words. Jaymes is a guest in my home, and she brings chaos. How could anyone not only relocate the furniture to their own liking but destroy it as well? The disrespect. I stare at her in utter amazement without a word. The room is silent. The scent of decay hanging over everything. All eyes on me as I take a moment to cool my temper. It will only add to the chaos. And it is only furniture. An extreme breech of etiquette, to be sure. But she has impunity, for now, with the value she brings. She is far more valuable than a room of belongings.

“How’s the help treating you on this great morning?” I ask with as much civility as I can muster. “I trust they have met every need and surpassed expectations. If not, give me the nod, and I will see to it they are replaced with handmaids more to your liking.”

I have yet to figure out this little tyrant. She has already been through a half dozen handmaids in a fortnight. Confined to her chambers may be an adjustment, but obliterating her room will not help the situation. I have been nothing but tolerable and generous.

I admit the first two handmaids

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