The Unbroken C. Clark (best books to read for self development .txt) 📖

crossed legs, elbows on knees, chin propped on fingertips. It was so like General Cantic that Touraine leaned farther away. “Will it, though? She doesn’t know that. I certainly don’t know that. What’s she willing to spend on a rumor?”

Touraine didn’t know. She didn’t know what someone could pay for that kind of knowledge. She didn’t know why someone would. Power like that cost—it had cost the Taargens, and they’d taken the price out of her soldiers’ flesh. She didn’t want to think what an emperor could do, would do with that kind of might. What a princess would do.

“What else do you want?”

“We told you. For her to get the fuck out of my Shāl-damned country,” the Jackal growled. Then she nodded toward the Apostate. “And the Blood General’s head for my friend here, as a bonus. That’ll do for starters.”

Touraine shook her head. “Any requests that won’t get me laughed to the gallows.”

The Jackal’s laugh was another rough bark, and she leaned forward on one bent knee, hanging like a wild dog over a kill. A vicious mirror of the Apostate. The secret name was so apt that it seemed a poor choice.

“We could still use those guns.” The Jackal smiled wide, baring teeth.

“Why would she arm a rebellion against her crown?”

“If we’re allies, it wouldn’t be a rebellion, would it?” The Apostate shrugged. “It would be an investment, to strengthen us.”

“And a guarantee of her good behavior if we can shoot back for once.” The Jackal laughed and laughed. “And tell her to come herself. I want her to look me in the eye while she tries to feed me gullshit.”

Dread settled in the pit of Touraine’s stomach. She wasn’t fooled for a second that the Jackal wouldn’t turn those weapons on Balladaire if given half a chance. There would still be a price then, and knowing Balladaire, they would see it paid—by someone else. Touraine knew all too well the coin that soothed Balladairan debt. Pruett and her heavy-bagged eyes. Tibeau’s crushing hugs and Aimée’s irreverence and Noé’s perfect voice and—

Luca would spend them all. If the rebels got the guns and the general went against Luca’s alliance—under her own power or the duke regent’s authority—the Sands would fall first.

Unless they defected. Then they’d be shot by blackcoats instead.

Unless Touraine never let it happen—unless she found another way.

The Jackal’s laugh mocked Touraine all the way back to the Quartier.

Luca laughed in Touraine’s face when she returned with the rebels’ counteroffers. Offers was a strong word.

“Are they insane?” Luca asked incredulously.

They were in her office in the town house again, this time with Lanquette outside the door, no one privy to their schemes but them. The sky outside was clear and specked with stars. The fresh, cold air would calm Luca down. After.

Touraine shrugged, bemused. “Desperate, I expect.”

“Well, I’m not. Not that desperate.” She wanted to stop the rebellion peacefully, the right way, but she wouldn’t sacrifice the empire to do it. She had accepted everything else on their sky-falling list of demands and stretched her relationships with the Balladairan nobles to their limits.

She huffed. “What about the magic?”

Her chief negotiator shrugged again, the gesture so casual it was infuriating. Why couldn’t she see how important this was? They were on the edge of something great, if the Qazāli would only stop being stubborn.

“That’s the interesting part, Your Highness.”

Touraine always used Luca’s title when she could tell Luca was irritated. Shame flooded her, and Luca eased her grip off the arms of her chair. She nodded for Touraine to continue, and the other woman told her a dazzling historical fantasy about gods and empresses. To some, it might have been laughable, but to Luca…

“That’s not why Balladaire abandoned religion,” Luca said when Touraine finished. “It was holding us back. When we focused on science and developing better tools, our crop yields increased. We had enough to feed the whole country, our armies—even other countries. The Brigāni just got greedy.”

“Just saying what they told me, Your Highness. It sounds like they meant magic, though. Balladairan magic.”

Luca paused. “Balladairan magic? As in our own, based in the empire?”

Touraine shook her head. She looked tired. Luca would let her go in just one minute; she just had to know—

“What do they know about it?”

“I don’t know. Probably not much. And the Apostate says you shouldn’t go to the library. That you won’t find what you’re looking for and you’ll pay a heavy price.”

“What kind of price?” Luca said sharply.

“I don’t know. But that pretty much leaves them as the only source for…” The ex-soldier swallowed. Luca finally understood her reticence toward the idea of magic. It wasn’t because she didn’t believe but because she’d seen it in its awful power.

This won’t be like that.

“Do they sound amenable? To a trade that involves magic?”

“No?” Touraine gave a sharp gesture to the desk. The list of Luca’s offers that she’d memorized was still on the desk. “They want the guns. Or Balladaire to leave.” Touraine snorted. “They also mentioned wanting Cantic’s head. I’d just as soon not add my own to the chopping block.”

Luca scowled down at the list, too. “Nor would I.”

CHAPTER 20FOR RESEARCH

Luca awoke the next morning still feeling irritable, so she kept to her rooms, rereading a book that was strictly fun—not research. Another volume in the saga of the Chevalier des Pommes. Slowly, the book and a cup of coffee were recalibrating her mood.

Someone knocked on the door. “Princess?” It was Gil, his voice only slightly concerned.

“Come in.” Luca closed her book around her finger.

Gil stepped in. “You’ve had a messenger from the Beau-Sang place.”

Luca’s heart leapt with adrenaline. What now? She beckoned for the letter and tore it open before sighing in relief.

“Good news, then?” Gil sat on the edge of her bed and squeezed her shoulder. It was the closest he’d gotten to a hug in ages. She leaned briefly into the touch. She missed him.

“Possibly.” Luca couldn’t help the excitement