Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
A murmur went through the Masters.
“Why is Master Asai reporting this to you and not to me?” Tethru said sharply.
Meeting his gaze, Castien shrugged. “I wondered the same thing, Grandmaster,” he said mildly.
Tethru’s face reddened.
Eridan bit his lip hard to stop himself from smiling.
Master Amara leaned forward. “I do not think it is relevant why Master Asai reported to Castien,” she said, frowning deeply. “Are you saying Prince-Consort Mehmer’s marriage bond is becoming faulty, Castien? If so, how is that relevant to the subject? Why has she not simply fixed the problem instead of reporting it to you?”
“She has,” Castien said. “Or rather, she has tried. But the problem became worse. His bond is weakening, and fast. It could not be fixed, no matter what she did, and he is becoming suspicious of her and the High Hronthar in general.”
This time the murmurs were louder. Eridan could acutely feel the unease of the Masters and had to tighten his shields.
“Prince-Consort Mehmer is a throwback, if I remember correctly,” Master Zaid drawled, sneering slightly. “It is not unusual for them to be faulty in some way.”
Eridan’s hands curled into fists, and he had to hide them in the folds of his robe.
At least Master Amara didn’t seem impressed with Zaid’s comment, either. She shot him a withering look, her gray eyebrows furrowed. “It is true that throwbacks have the highest rate of bond failure, but it has nothing to do with them being faulty,” she said. “And everything to do with them being naturally predisposed to having one mate of their own choice. Artificial bonds are unnatural for them.”
“Indeed,” Castien said. “In any case, the cause is irrelevant. The prince-consort should be dealt with, and soon.”
“Very well,” Tethru said, raising his voice, clearly wanting to remind everyone who was the Grandmaster.
Eridan nearly rolled his eyes. How fragile was Tethru’s ego?
Tethru wasn’t even bothering to hide his dislike as he looked at Castien. “We can switch the prince-consort with his husband in my plan. That does not make much of a difference.”
“While your solution is ingenious,” Castien said flatly, “it requires some amendments. Your plan is generally sound—there is no better way to pit the Calluvian Council against the rebels than the rebels’ apparent murder of one of the royals—but it is not foolproof, Master.”
A muscle twitched in Tethru’s jaw, anger rolling off him. “Please enlighten me as to why, Castien,” he bit out.
Castien looked at him neutrally, his calm like a mockery of Tethru’s lack of composure. Eridan had to admit he absolutely loved watching his Master reduce that self-important dick to a clown. Maybe he should attend more sessions of the Chapter if they all were so entertaining.
“Every plan has a chance to fail,” Castien said, his voice quiet. “Your plan assumes that the Tai’Lehrians would either decide against revealing themselves to the Calluvian Council or would be unable to prove that they had nothing to do with the murder of the royal. But what if they do? What if they convince someone high-ranking enough in the Council to listen to them? What if they are given a fair trial? The Ministry of Intergalactic Affairs has Dalvars in their employ, a species that can detect if someone is lying. What if they are used to question the Tai’Lehrians? Your whole plan will fall apart if the Tai’Lehrians testify that they had nothing to do with Prince-Consort Mehmer’s death, which would eventually lead to the Council suspecting us.”
The chamber was dead silent, the Masters’ alarm apparent. Eridan didn’t even need to stretch his senses to feel it.
“What are you suggesting then, Idhron?” Tethru bit off.
“A contingency plan. There is one person whose testimony would take precedence over the Tai’Lehrians’ if they were to be questioned by the Dalvars: the supposed victim’s.” Castien waited until the murmurs quieted down before speaking again. “If Prince-Consort Mehmer testifies that Tai’Lehrians had him kidnapped and tortured for information, and that he barely escaped with his life, no one would listen to a word the Tai’Lehrians say.”
“But it would require a full personality wipe to fool the Dalvars,” Master Amara said, frowning. “There are no wipers in the Order anymore. Well, there is an initiate that has that talent, but she is too young and untrained to be much of a help now. Right now her talent is too erratic.”
Eridan winced. He had heard of her. Everyone in the Order had heard of her. Telepaths with the wiper talent were incredibly rare, so of course the girl was something of a curiosity now.
“Can’t Castien brute-force a wipe?” Master Zaid said idly, as if he were talking about the weather rather than discussing what was an equivalent of the most brutal mind-rape one could possibly imagine. “He’s a Seven, after all.”
Eridan glared at him, his annoyance mounting.
“Castien might be a Class 7 telepath, but he is no wiper,” Tethru snapped. “Theoretically, he might be able to do it, but it would take a lot of time and his work likely wouldn’t be as flawless as that of a wiper. The Dalvars are not easily fooled.”