The Mask of Mirrors by M. Carrick; (different e readers txt) 📕

than the direction of the conversation, selecting a marbled egg and a dumpling folded to look like a moonfish, shifting them to her plate. “Led by a five-member council, the Cinquerat. The way it’s described in Seteris sounds very inefficient, but my impression is that everything—trade, defense, construction, and so forth—is handled through charters granted by the council to noble houses.”

Compared to the aristocracy’s hereditary rights in Seteris, it probably was inefficient. But since that also meant it offered opportunities to people like Vargo, he wasn’t inclined to complain. “Granted to noble houses, but the delta gentry usually administer the charters on their behalf. It’s the kind of system you cobble together at the end of a civil war after half the city has collapsed into rubble, and then never get around to fixing.”

She might not be native to Nadežra and its convoluted politics, but her mind was quick enough to follow his meaning. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Master Vargo, but you aren’t delta gentry.”

“Would you be calling me Master Vargo if I were?” he drawled. “There’s no law that restricts charter administration to delta houses. Only custom.”

Renata tasted the dumpling, buying herself time to consider. “It’s an interesting idea. However, I’m afraid I must disappoint you. As you noted, I’m not a member of House Traementis. I’m in no position to help you with a charter.”

Vargo smiled. He imagined the frisson of excitement that washed over him was like the tremors a spider felt when something brushed the outer strands of his web. “That’s another strange quirk of our charter system. You don’t have to be a member of a noble house to advocate in the Charterhouse; some of the best advocates are delta gentry licensed to do so on a noble’s behalf. I imagine House Traementis would be grateful to someone who could assist in repairing their fortunes.”

“Repairing their fortunes?”

It was the first unguarded reaction she’d had since arriving—that, and the silent rapture when she tasted the chocolate.

“They’re in decline, alta. Have been for quite some time now. Era Traementis does what she can to keep up appearances, but I know for a fact they don’t hold nearly as many charters as they used to. If someone brought them a new one… that person might even find her name inscribed into their register.”

Renata Viraudax had a good mask—good enough that he couldn’t read what was going on behind her pleasant, curious expression. He could only guess, just as he could only guess what had caused her to leave Seteris. Scandal? A falling-out with her mother? Accusations of criminal activity? It might be worth paying some of his contacts to make inquiries across the sea.

But in the end, what mattered was that Alta Renata was clearly hoping to make her home here in Nadežra, in the bosom of her mother’s former family.

And Vargo could help make that happen.

He leaned in closer, letting his voice drop like he was sharing an intimate secret. “Noble houses profit from all the charters they hold—even those administered by others. If you can get Era Traementis to license you as an advocate, I’m prepared to pay you for your services, and offer fair terms to them once the charter’s awarded. We all get what we want.”

Or at least take the first step toward what they wanted. Vargo suspected that admittance into the Traementis register was no more her end goal than a single charter administration was his.

She neither drew back from his closeness, nor showed any sign that it affected her. “You believe that I—a stranger to this city and its politics, whose main connection to House Traementis is an estrangement twenty-three years old—can… what’s the Nadežran phrase? Navigate the shoals to get you what you want.”

“I believe that in one day you managed to take the Gloria by storm, set the heir to House Acrenix scrambling to assert her dominance over you, and bested the heir of House Indestor and fair Nadežra’s most famous criminal. All using only your sleeves and a glove.” He laughed quietly. “Alta Renata, I’d far rather have a woman like you as an ally than a competitor.”

That got her. She kept her expression serene, but this close, he could hear the slight intake of breath. Another noble might have sneered at the idea that someone like him could ever be a competitor. She didn’t.

Retrieving the leather-bound folder from the empty chair, he set it next to her left hand. “House Quientis holds the Fulvet seat in the Cinquerat, which means they oversee the civil affairs of the city. Scaperto Quientis would be the one to approve the charter I’m proposing. All I ask is that you do me the favor of reviewing these documents.”

She leaned back in her seat, looking at but not yet touching the folder. “You have an interesting way of doing business, Master Vargo.”

He sipped cooling chocolate, as though it wasn’t of great interest to him whether she took the folder or not. “I’d hate to have you think I—”

::You need to get to the Shambles right now.::

Vargo coughed at the sudden intrusion into his thoughts, thankful that he’d been taking a sip. Better to leave Renata thinking he was clumsy than mad.

Whatever it is, it can wait, he thought back. Hurrying Renata along at this juncture would do more harm than good.

::It’s Hraček. Somebody drugged him and then cut him to ribbons.::

“Are you all right?” Renata asked, leaning forward in concern.

Half a bell, Vargo thought desperately.

::Ah, so you aren’t concerned that one of your fists is dying for you. My mistake. Carry on with your seduction.::

Unleashing a stream of mental invective, Vargo set aside his cup and wiped chocolate from his lips. “I apologize, alta.” The rasp breaking his words was only half-feigned. “Please excuse me…” He broke into more coughing, grabbed his cane, and was up and out before she could offer any sort of aid.

He caught the owner at the rear door. “Charge the meal to me, and send her home