Careful!

  Conscience’s voice echoed through my head as I pounced on Miranna. She reacted quickly and dodged — in a way that put her between me and Yakamo, of course — but not quickly enough to avoid my shadows. A tendril wrapped around her leg, and once that happened it was over. The shock stunned her long enough that I could carefully bear her down to the floor, pinning her with one hand on her chest and the other controlling her sword, which she’d drawn faster than I could even bloody see.

  “Easy now,” I told her, keeping the pressure of my shadows just high enough to rob her off the ability to speak. Hopefully that wouldn’t be enough to do anything permanent. “Easy. We need to have a very serious conversation about what the lady admiral just said.” I turned to said lady. “Yakamo. You understand that if that gets out, it will have dire consequences, yeah?”

  “I… yes!” she said, shocked at the sudden violence. “But Miranna would never—!”

  “I’m sure you believe that.” I looked down at the woman pinned under my weight. “Miranna, I’m going to take the pressure off, and we’re going to talk. You will not run. You will not shout. We will have a calm and civilized conversation, and by this time next year this will just be something you and your mistress can laugh about whenever you see me in the sky, or when you pass by this building. Nod if you understand.”

  Miranna, wild-eyed and struggling to draw breath, nodded rapidly.

  “Good. Just so we’re clear: when I say that you will not run or shout, I mean that I will stop you before you get anywhere, and I’ll be as rough as necessary. All right? All right. I’m letting you up now.”

  With that, I took my weight off first her chest, then her arm, and stepped back. Then I released her from the grip of my shadows, letting them linger around her, ready to grab her again if necessary.

  Miranna took a deep, shuddering breath, scuttling back from me and toward Yakamo a bit before sitting up. My shadows followed her, ready to strike at any moment. Silently, we stared at each other, her with fearful anticipation, me patiently.

  Yakamo broke the stare-off when she put a hand on Miranna’s shoulders and said, “I suppose this is one of those times an apology is appropriate? Dear girl, I clearly told you something I should not have. I hope you’ll accept my apology.”

  The way she delivered her ‘apology’ was so flat, so completely devoid of actual contrition or understanding of why she shouldn’t have said what she did, that I couldn’t help myself. I managed to restrain my reaction to an amused huff and a smirk. That restraint then broke, and I could hold back a series of snorts when Miranna turned her head to stare incredulously up at her mistress.

  Then Yakamo turned her eyes on me, and reminded me that she belonged to Herald, not to me, and there was no transitive property in play there. No hierarchy where just because Herald was mine, Yakamo should defer to me in her absence. I wasn’t entirely sure what Herald had told her about me, really, beyond something about working to further my best interests. In that moment Yakamo was frowning, her eyes heavy with disapproval, and while there was fear coming off her in waves it was clear that she wasn’t letting it affect her.

  I remembered something about her being a navy captain for decades. Yeah. I could see that. Recovering quickly from shock and keeping cool under pressure was probably half the job.

  “Lady Draka,” she scolded as she extended a hand to Miranna — more an invitation to stand than any real support, since Miranna must have weighed half again as much as her mistress even without her armor. “There really was no need to assault my bodyguard! As I told you, she is loyal. Perhaps I should have said that she is utterly dependable. If I had ever felt the need to keep secrets from her, whether about embarrassments or indiscretions, I would not employ her!”

  A little taken aback at the harshness in her words — something I definitely wasn’t used to — I told her, “Again, I’m sure you mean that. I’m also sure that Miranna here is dedicated to your safety and wellbeing, and I can’t afford to be less than absolutely sure that she doesn’t decide that you need rescuing from something. So, Miranna.” I sat up straight and looked down, glad for the high ceiling. There was no room for being unintimidating here. “Let’s be sure that we’re on the same page. Are you listening?”

  “I am,” Miranna said warily. She was back to standing between myself and Yakamo, having moved so subtly that I’d barely noticed her doing it. It was hard to say what she expected to be able to do, but her dedication was commendable. And she was neither running nor shouting, so I had high hopes that she might be possible to reason with, rather than me having to do anything drastic.

  “Good. The first thing you need to know is that neither Herald nor I will ever be a threat to your lady. I can see that you doubt that, but it’s the truth. Herald is no less concerned with Lady Yakamo’s wellbeing than the other way around, and I will never do anything that might hurt Herald. Hell, if anything, you should consider your lady under my protection. It would hurt Herald terribly if anything were to happen to her.”

  Behind Miranna, a pleased smile passed over Yakamo’s face before she returned to her neutral frown.

  “But,” I said slowly, and the aura of apprehension around Miranna thickened, “what your lady said isn’t really the kind of thing that can be walked back. You’d always wonder, and suspect, and it would fester until you might do something catastrophically stupid, and I really can’t have that. So I’m just going to lay it on the table: there is a bond between your lady and Herald. One where Herald commands, and Lady Yakamo obeys.”

  The only signs of Miranna’s distress at that admission was a slight widening of her eyes, and a sharp, muted breath through her nose. “Understood,” she said.

  “I’m going to give you a choice now,” I told her. “You can either swear to me that you will never reveal what you’ve already learned and that you will never pry deeper — and make me believe that you mean it — or I can tell you more about why this bond exists. I assume I don’t need to explain what knowing more of our secrets means for you?”

  “No,” she said, her voice a little tight. “But I can’t swear any such oath. Not about the prying, at least. Not and mean it.”

  “I appreciate your honesty,” I told her. “Lady Admiral, where did you find such an honest, loyal woman to guard you?”

  “She’s my previous guard captain’s daughter,” Yakamo said with the closest thing to fondness I’d ever heard about her — other than for Herald, of course. “I’ve known her since she was just a babe. Her own children are the joy of my household, I’m told. Does Lady Herald like children?”

  “She does,” I mused, immensely grateful now that there was no risk I’d have to kill Miranna. Mercies, I hadn’t even considered she might have kids, even if she looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties. “Well, Miranna. Last chance to back out of learning something truly dangerous.”

  “I’d rather know,” she said hoarsely.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “Very well. Lady Yakamo, do you want to tell her, or should I?”

  “I will, of course,” Yakamo said. I couldn’t tell if she was truly offended that I suggested otherwise, but she sure seemed like it. “Miranna, dear girl, turn around, would you? I’d rather not tell this to the back of your head.”

  Miranna did as she’d been asked. But she didn’t just turn her back on me; she moved a few steps, placing herself so she could still see me out of the corner of her eye as Yakamo spoke to her.

  “Do you remember three weeks or so ago, when Lady Herald and Lady Draka came to visit my home?”

  “Of course, my lady,” Miranna confirmed.

  “After that meeting, Lady Herald came to me in my office.”

  “But, my lady, I—!” Miranna began.

  Yakamo silenced her with a gesture. “I’m aware. You would not have seen her, and I do not blame you. Lady Herald has some quite impressive magical abilities.”

  “Oh.”

  “Quite. And when she came into my office, she brought me into the shadows, and in her majesty she showed me just how futile and irrational it would be to oppose her. How much better it would be, for the city and myself, to just follow her directions.”

  “Right.” Miranna’s voice was carefully flat.

  Well, damn. I didn’t exactly love her description of how Herald had enthralled her. The way she described it sounded pretty creepy, or even downright villainous.

  Because it is! Conscience hissed. You think what you’ve been doing to people was nice? You literally crush their will out of them through absolute, pants-shitting terror!

  Not one of them has— I started to retort sullenly, but Conscience cut me off.

  Not. The. Point. Although I suppose I should be glad you don’t usually add that particular humiliation to your list of abuses.

  All right! I snapped back. Then show me one of them that would be better off dead, because that’s usually the alternative! No? I thought not! Now let me focus! This is important!

  Yakamo continued, “I recognize now that it may have been confusing for you to have me speak so much of Lady Herald these past few weeks but I really was just thinking of ways to bring her happiness at little cost to myself. Lady Herald does not wish me to harm myself in any way for her sake. So, you see, Miranna? This is a good thing for everyone!”

  “Right.”

  “Please, dear girl,” Yakamo said, glancing toward me as she put her hands on Miranna’s arms. “I need you to be more convincing than that. I need to know that you are no danger to Lady Herald or her interests.”

  “I— I don’t—” Miranna stuttered, and for the first time she looked truly lost, almost helpless.

  “I understand that it may be difficult for you to trust Lady Draka. She is rather intimidating. Can you trust me instead, and swear to me that you will not speak to anyone about this?”

  “Herald loves this city,” I added softly. “She feels a deep debt of gratitude to those who took her family in as refugees, and sheltered them from the threat of slavery. She will never do anything, or ask anything of Lady Yakamo, that might harm Karakan or its people. I can promise you that, and I don’t make promises lightly.”

  “So, will you swear?” Yakamo asked. “I don’t know what Lady Draka will do if not, but I doubt I could protect you from her.”

  Miranna looked back and forth between us, and I could only guess what she might be thinking. Could she guess that I would do to her what Herald had done to Yakamo, if she wouldn’t swear to remain silent? Did she expect to die? Was she thinking of her children, who might be left without a mother?

  “Do you swear that everything you’ve told me is true, my lady?” she finally asked, looking Yakamo desperately in the eyes. “Do you swear that you are safe and h— as content as you’ve ever been, and that you still serve Karakan?”

  Yakamo frowned. “Of course. I’ve just told you—”

  “Then I swear that I will not speak a word of this, and to keep serving you to the best of my ability as you command.” Miranna didn’t sound happy, exactly, but she did sound defeated enough that I believed her. And while I didn’t like to see and hear her so beat down, I really hadn’t been looking forward to having to break her.

  “Good,” I rumbled into the room, letting them feel my satisfaction. “But, Miranna?”

  The bodyguard started at being addressed. “Yes, Lady Draka?”

  “There’s no backing out or changing your mind now. If I didn’t think you could be trusted, I have ways of silencing you that would not have done you any permanent harm. You wouldn’t even mind. But you’ve sworn now. If I find later that you’ve betrayed your lady, my Herald, or myself, I will not be gentle. I hope you understand that. I cannot tolerate betrayal.”

  The scent of Miranna’s fear flooded the small building, and she swallowed thickly. “Understood, Lady Draka. I’ll do my best not to give you cause to worry.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “Good!” A small, rare smile graced Yakamo’s face. She was either oblivious of or didn’t care about Miranna’s fear. “Now, Lady Draka! Prize money!”

  “Prize money?” I asked, blinking through the conversational whiplash.

  “Yes! I believe I mentioned it before. You’re not a captain of the navy, but I believe we could easily argue that this would fall under our previous agreement which would qualify you as a mercenary of sorts. We just never expected you to sink any ships! It would of course have been best if you’d displayed this ability before the Tekereteki set up their blockade—”

  “My lady,” Miranna groaned. She sounded absolutely exhausted.

  “Yes, yes,” Yakamo sighed. “Prize money. If you’d captured a ship you would have received a portion of the value of the cargo as well, but I imagine that would be difficult for you. As it is, we pay a fixed value based on the estimated cost to the enemy of losing the ship in question. In this case, five dragons for the light galley, and seven each for the two supply ships.”

  “What?” I blinked rapidly, not quite sure what I was hearing. “Nineteen dragons? You’d pay me nineteen dragons for that?” That was some of the easiest money I’d ever made!

  Yakamo scowled. “Well, yes. I understand it may sound low to you, but… I suppose, since no Karakani ships or sailors were put at risk, we could raise the percentage. If I offered you seven for the galley and ten each for the transports, would that satisfy you?”

  “Lady Yakamo,” Miranna said, with a little more energy than before and a warning in her voice. I got the distinct impression that she’d read my surprise far better for the delight it had been than had her mistress.

  “Miranna!” Yakamo snapped. “I understand the last several minutes have been difficult for you, but please do not interrupt! The budget can bear it, and I want to incentivize Lady Draka to a repeat performance!”

  “Nah, yeah, I’m incentivized!” I agreed. “At that rate I’d be happy to go for another couple of runs! I just needed to make sure of one thing: if I sink another couple of ships, will it do any good? I do like the idea of another pile of gold coins, but as much as it pains me to say, gold is not everything. I’m a busy lady, with limited time.”

  My biggest concerns were Tam and Mother. If my sisters turned for the better after what I’d done, and if Val would agree, then I’d want to do the same for Tam as soon as I could. Of course, that would run the risk of enthralling him if I wasn’t careful, or if careful wasn’t good enough. I already felt awful about even considering it. But if it was a choice between that and his life, surely Val would agree that survival with some restraints on his free will was better than the alternative. And Mother… I was just plain worried about her. Last I knew she was alive and moving, but that was all. I had no way to know what was going on with her, and her not returning to us couldn’t mean anything good.

  When I asked Yakamo if my help would actually lead to anything, I would have expected her to immediately insist that yes, it would definitely be the key to everything I’d ever wanted. She was, after all, the lady admiral of a navy that couldn’t sail. But this was Yakamo I was dealing with, so instead she stopped and thought about it. When she answered it was with a considered, “That depends. If we coordinate, so that you cause confusion among them and then continue assaulting them as the trapped elements of our navy sail out to attack, then I believe that we have a chance.”

  “Only a chance?” I asked.

  “Yes. But I do have an idea which might make that a good chance instead. Lady Draka, how do you feel about fire?”

  and get 8 chapters early of both Draka and , as well as anything else I’m trying out.

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