The Autumn Republic

“I know.” Vlora let out a sigh and met his eyes, watching him silently for a long time. “I miss you.”

Taniel hesitated. “I miss you too.”

“Is there any chance things could ever go back to the way they were?”

Taniel had to confess that from time to time the same question had occurred to him. He remembered their childhood and their courtship, going through training together, stealing off to be alone, and all the time they spent together. But the fragile thread that had held them together had been snapped, and there was nothing that could mend it. “I don’t think so. Ka-poel. She and I…”

“Yeah.”

What if Ka-poel dies? Vlora didn’t ask the question out loud, but he knew it had crossed her mind. He didn’t even want to consider it.

“I saw your savage,” Vlora said.

Taniel turned. “Is she all right?” The panic he felt for her kept rising to the surface and he had to fight it back down. Tamas had told him how important it was to play Claremonte’s game, and only a direct order and assurances that contingencies had been made kept Taniel from running off to try to rescue her.

“As far as I could tell.” Vlora gave him a sad smile. “If the opportunity comes up, I’ll help you get her back.”

“Thanks.” Taniel reached out and squeezed her shoulder. There was a part of him that wanted to hold her, that knew that she would welcome it. He shook his head to banish the thought. “Vlora, I…”

She held up a hand and he fell silent, frowning. She tilted her head, and it took a couple of moments before Taniel caught on. The chatter from the foyer and dining room had died down. “The results?” she asked.

They left the sitting room to find the crowd from the foyer huddled around the entrance to the dining room, and Taniel had to elbow his way through. He reached the center of the dining room to discover a messenger in a powdered wig, white frock coat, trousers, and black riding boots standing between Ricard and Fell. Taniel tried to melt back into the audience, but Ricard had spotted him. Ricard beckoned eagerly and Taniel felt himself pushed forward.

Tumblar’s brow shone with a sheen of sweat and his eyes looked tired. He took Taniel by the arm and directed him to his right hand.

One of the hotel’s kitchen lads brought in a wooden crate and the messenger climbed up, while Fell clinked a spoon on her glass.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” the messenger said. “It is my honor as representative of the vote counters to reveal the identity of the First Minister of Adro.” He paused, removing an envelope from his jacket and breaking the seal.

Taniel licked his lips, wishing he had something to drink, and wiped his palms on his trousers.

“I am pleased to announce that the First Minister of Adro… is the honorable Ricard Tumblar!”

A cheer went up through the crowd more deafening than cannon fire. Taniel stumbled as Ricard suddenly grabbed him in an embrace. His hand was snatched by a dozen different people and shaken until he thought his arm would come off at the elbow. He heard a cork pop, and a champagne glass was thrust into his hand and then immediately taken away so he could shake hands with someone else. Congratulations were shouted in his ear and he was shoved around the room by well-wishers until he thought he might snap at any moment.

The silence that suddenly swept through the room hit Taniel like a punch to the gut. Someone’s laugh cut through it, then dissipated awkwardly. Taniel blinked away the haze of the excitement as the crowd scattered and Lord Claremonte stepped into the dining room.

Claremonte was dressed in the sharpest of black suits with tails, a top hat held in one hand. His eye wandered lazily over the assembled guests and he lifted his hands to gently clap. “I see that the messengers reached me faster than they did you.”

Ricard gazed back at Claremonte warily. Taniel put his hand on the hilt of his smallsword and set his jaw. Tamas’s stern command to hold it together kept running through his brain.

“You know the results?” Ricard asked.

“If I didn’t already, I do now. I heard the cheering from the streets.”

Taniel could hear nothing but the pounding of his own heart. The room was deathly silent, and though the guests didn’t know Claremonte’s true nature, there was a palpable air about him that threatened danger. Taniel caught Vlora’s eye, and saw the pistol in her belt half drawn.

“And,” Claremonte continued, “well earned, I say.” He swept one leg back in a graceful bow. “Congratulations, Mr. First Minister, and to you, Second Minister. I wish you all the greatest success!” He stepped forward suddenly and shook Ricard’s hand, ignoring the shocked look on Tumblar’s face.

“You’ll be leaving the city, then?” Taniel asked, his voice low.

Claremonte met his eye, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “As I gave my word. I just have a few things to wrap up before I go. Well done, Mr. Two-shot. Enjoy your victory.”