The place name was unfamiliar to Aubrey but he wasn’t surprised at that. He watched as Niniane and Tiago gave each other a long look.
Tiago murmured, “It’s finally done. The last of them have been brought to justice.”
“We can look to the future now,” Niniane said. They shared an intimate smile. Then Niniane turned back to Xanthe. “I’ve never heard of this place.”
“Devil’s Gate is new since your grace has come to Adriyel,” said Xanthe. “A—a tent city, they call it, although many of the structures are not tents. Some are vehicles called RVs. Others are buildings they called Quonset and there are also temporary office spaces made of metal. Close to two hundred thousand people, both humankind and Elder Races, are there now looking for magic sensitive silver and gold.”
“There’s a modern day gold rush going on, and I didn’t know anything about it?” Niniane sounded dismayed.
“You need more sleep than I do,” Tiago said to her. “I’ve been following the stories in the newspapers.”
Niniane muttered, “We have got to start spending some time each year in Chicago, especially now that we’ve opened our borders.”
“Agreed,” said Tiago. He told Xanthe, “Continue.”
She said, “The place is—crowded and chaotic. Lord Thruvial thought he could relax in some relative anonymity there. He was well away from Adriyel’s politics and the trials of all the other conspirators. He believed that since you could not find enough evidence of his involvement in the overthrow and murder of your father and family that he would not be pursued further.”
Aubrey looked steadily across the table at the deadly face of the man who sat opposite him. Thruvial had not only been a pig, but an idiot.
Xanthe said, “Since I was the most junior of his triad, for a long time I was not allowed to perform any of the more intimate tasks of service to him, like serving him food and drink or helping him to dress.”
“She was in his household for months,” Tiago told Aubrey. “It never fails to surprise me how assholes like Thruvial insist on Dark Fae traditions like keeping triads of personal servants, but then they can turn around and murder their own king.”
Triads were found throughout all aspects of the Dark Fae daily life, from the highest place in government to fighting formations and servant clusters. Often in society, married couples brought a third sex partner to the marriage bed, although Aubrey had never felt inclined to do so.
He gave Tiago a dark smile. “That is not inconsistent, my friend. Our traditions of violence, jealousy, revenge, and making and breaking political alliances, go deeper than any triad.”
Tiago snorted. “Point.” He said to Xanthe, “So Thruvial finally relaxed and let you get close enough.”
“Yes, but even so, I had to wait for the right moment to act so that it could not be traced back to me. When the opportunity finally came, I poisoned his wine.” Her voice was composed and steady. “He died quickly. Unfortunately that was not the end of it.”
Aubrey settled back in his chair, watching her face as she told the story. There were odd, intriguing freckles, light like sprinkles of gold, on her nose and cheeks. Her eyes were unusual too, a deep, rich color full of shadows and mystery. Her face was gently planed, with high cheekbones and a narrow rounded jaw. Now that he came to really study her, he realized she had a shockingly sensual mouth. She would never be considered one of the high beauties of the Dark Fae, but she did have her own particular attractiveness.
“There was trouble?” Tiago asked.
“Yes. A young medusa also resided in Devil’s Gate, and she was known to argue publicly with Lord Thruvial. When his other attendants found him poisoned, they started an outcry that ran through the camp. They insisted that she was the one who poisoned him, and she was taken and locked up to be hung.” Her expression turned bitter. “The whole thing was entirely my fault. I did not consider all the ramifications of what might happen if I killed him in such a fashion. I simply saw my opportunity and took it.”
Niniane leaned forward. “You can’t consider how everybody might react to something. It’s too much to ask of yourself.”
Other than a quick glance at the Queen, Aubrey’s gaze returned to Xanthe’s face. He was interested to note that her self-recriminating expression hadn’t changed even though the Queen herself offered absolution. This young soldier had a strong set of scruples.
He asked in a quiet voice, “Is the medusa girl all right?”