Meta Gods War 3 by B. Miles (the ebook reader txt) 📕

bag on the table in front of him. Captain Brice of the heavy armored division tilted her head in his direction and mouthed a question at him when he looked over at her. He only smiled and shook his head.

Galla Remorn lingered in the doorway wearing a long cream-colored gown, conservatively cut and covering her skin, but still clinging to her curves. She stared out at the group, at her father sitting at the head of the table, a chair empty beside him, but drifted over to Cam. She rested a hand on Cam’s shoulder, surveying the gathered men and women, the most powerful people in the Mansion.

She sat down and a silence descended over the room.

Lord Remorn stared at them. Cam expected anger from him, expected an outburst.

Instead, he let out a breath and turned his eyes away with a very slight nod to himself.

“I believe we’re all here,” he said, pushing his chair back to stand. “There is a long list of business before us today, and I’d like to be finished soon. There’s work to be done, and—”

“Father,” Galla said, interrupting him.

He grimaced and looked in her direction. “Yes, Galla? What is it?”

She sat up straight, an air of dignity wrapped around her. Cam had no clue how she managed to convey so much with her posture, but he was pretty sure he’d look like a fool if he tried.

“I want to discuss what happened yesterday,” she said.

“We don’t have time to speak of your… wedding,” he said.

“I don’t mean the wedding, although it was a lovely ceremony, thank you Elders for joining us.” She smiled, dazzling and bright. “No, Father, I’m talking about what happened after the ceremony, in the middle of the night.”

There were some surprised faces around the table. Her father opened his mouth and let out an annoyed grunt.

“I don’t need to hear about what goes on in my daughter’s marriage bed. This is inappropriate, Galla, would you please—”

“I’m not talking about consummating the marriage, although of course we did.” She gave the crowd a little shy grin and a few of the Elders chuckled. “No, I’m talking about the man you sent in the middle of the night when I was sleeping in my husband’s bed.”

“What man?” Lord Remorn asked.

Cam stared at the Lord, then to the Head Warden sitting at his side. Dore was a chubby man, with dark facial hair and beady little eyes. He sat stiffly, his back straight, a look of rage and disdain playing across his pig-like features. He gripped the edge of the table so tightly that his fingers turned white.

“Camrus, if you wouldn’t mind,” Galla said.

He nodded and stood. He picked up the bag, opened the top, and dumped out the contents.

A half-burned head rolled out into the table. It nearly fell off the end of the table before rolling back into the middle, coming to a stop on its right cheek.

Several Elders gasped. Even a few of the army officers looked away in disgust. Cam stared at the gruesome thing on the table before looking up at Lord Remorn, expecting to see anger.

Instead, he saw surprise and disgust.

“This was the wedding present you sent me last night,” Galla said.

Cam sat and let her do the talking. He surveyed the table, found the Elf Lord impassive. Gwedi rolled her eyes at him, like she was annoyed. Captain Brice looked slightly pale and her eyes were hard, almost angry when he met her gaze. He tilted his head and shrugged a little, as if to say, what can I do, it’s beyond my control.

“I did not send any such thing,” Lord Remorn said. “What is this… that’s a man’s face, I don’t…”

“A Warden,” Galla said. “A Warden came into our rooms last night and attempted to kill us. He came with a naked blade, came into our sleeping room. The only reason I’m here telling you this story is because Cam defended my life.”

“That would explain the burns,” Captain Brice said.

“This is outrageous,” Warden Dore said, his jowls quivering. “How dare you suggest a Warden would break his sacred oath? We do not get involved in politics, we do not—”

“We all know that’s not true, Warden Dore,” Galla said. “You may not assassinate people, but you’ve been under my father’s thumb for a long time now. You play the game like anyone else does, and I dare you to try and prove otherwise.”

Warden Dore’s eyes went wide, or as wide as they could. He gripped the table and pushed back to stand, but Lord Remorn’s hand came up, stopping him before he could get to his feet.

“How do we know this… head belonged to a Warden?” Lord Remorn asked.

“We have witnesses,” Galla said. “And there’s this.” She reached into a pocket sewn into the hip of her dress and produced the melted, twisted Warden symbol, tossing it onto the table.

“That could be anything,” Warden Dore said, spittle flying from his pinched lips.

“He’s right,” Galla said. “It’s a piece of twisted metal and a burned head. But tell me, Father, are there any missing Wardens right now? Has Dore accounted for them all?”

Lord Remorn’s back was stiff as he turned to Dore. “Well?” he asked. “Are you missing any men?”

Dore opened his mouth, sputtered, and shut it again. “We’re missing men every day,” he said. “Men get sick working so closely with each other, you know that, Lord.”

Lord Remorn shook his head. “I want answers,” he said. “Damn you, Dore, what did you do?”

“It’s not what he did,” Galla said. “It’s what you did, Father.”

Lord Remorn turned back to her and Cam saw it then.

True shock, like until this point, he couldn’t believe the game his daughter was playing.

“I would never,” Lord Remorn said.

“And yet you did,” Galla said. “You sent that man into our rooms, all because you don’t like my marriage to Camrus. You believe I’d be better off dead, or perhaps you were only going to kill my husband and spare me. Was that