To Seduce An Assassin (The Omaja Series Book 2)(6)



Their steward, who also acted as valet, handyman, and all-around help, was a middle-aged, kindly fellow named Liel. Nothing in his demeanor led Yavi to believe he could have betrayed their confidence, but who else could it have been? Terijin, the cook? The man never left the kitchen; all he knew or practiced was food preparation, and he had thus far been the most dedicated cook Yavi could imagine. Aside from those four, there were perhaps six other servants, all orphaned youths who assisted Shandri with housekeeping and Liel with around-the-house tasks.

Yavi hated to face the possibility, but the informant could be a palace guard. But who? The guard captain, Harshad, was fiercely loyal, and by all accounts so were his men. Their current palace guard detail was small—too small, in fact—only about fifteen men. They guarded the palace itself, the stables, and the two gates leading out of the palace grounds. To Yavi’s knowledge each man was nothing but faithful. Their pay certainly wasn’t enough to warrant the level of devotion they had shown to him and Yajna thus far.

He sighed and sank wearily onto his mattress, then lay back and pulled the covers over his body. The only way to be certain was to ask Jiandra to read the staff’s thoughts with the Omaja stone—something she avoided doing unless she felt it was extremely necessary.

This, however, was extremely necessary, because Yavi wanted this traitor dealt with before he could strike again.





Two


Well before dawn, Graciella stood in her farmhouse’s small kitchen kneading the dough for cinnamon-raisin bread in her strong, practiced hands, while the rest of the cottage’s inhabitants still slept. She had arranged her long dark hair in a single braid down her back, donned her plain muslin dress and apron, pushed the sleeves back, and set to work. The first batch of sourdough was already baking in the oven.

Elio appeared from around the corner, dressed for farm work. “Morning, sister. Is there hot water for tea?”

“Yes, ready in the kettle.”

He inhaled blissfully. “How long for the bread to come out of the oven?”

“Only a few minutes.” She smiled.

“I love bread-baking day.” Elio hugged her into his side and planted a brotherly peck on top of her head. He poured a splash of cream into his tea and stirred it. “Sister, are you happy living here at the farm? In general, I mean?”

“I suppose so. I don’t want to live here forever, though.”

Elio sipped his tea thoughtfully. “Farm life isn’t your first choice, is it?”

“No, but I’m thankful we have this farm.”

“I am as well, but…” He trailed off.

“But you’re thinking of giving up the farm?”

Elio sighed. “No offense to our parents, Gods rest their souls, but my heart is with Solange, and I want to be with her full-time, sharing her company, protecting her, being there for her when she needs me.”

“I wish the Royal Council would allow her to marry you.” Graciella pulled the large tray of finished sourdough out of the oven, replacing it with a tray of unbaked loaves.

“Solange turns twenty in a few days. After that, she doesn’t need their approval. She can marry whomever she pleases.”

Graciella chuckled. “I think I know whom she pleases.”

Her brother smiled, then grew serious. “I want to ask her to marry me, but I’m afraid, Gracie.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid she’ll think I’m beneath her.”

“Solange adores you.”

“I know, but marriage is a different matter. I’m a farmer. She’s the queen.”

“Elio.” Graciella broke off a hunk of the steaming hot sourdough, put it on a plate, and handed it to him along with a knife and butter. “Solange is crazy about you. Has been for six years. I know she wants to marry you and is dying for you to ask.”

His eyes lit up. “She said that?”

“Not in so many words, but a girl can tell when another girl is madly in love with her brother.”

Elio took a bite of bread, then spoke with his mouth full. “You think I should propose, then?”

“Yes. Absolutely.” Graciella popped a small piece of bread into her mouth, savoring it. “Mm, perfect. I love sourdough.”

“Me too, and you make the best sourdough in the county, sweet sister of mine.” Elio ate another bite, then took a sip of tea. “Some lucky man is going to feast on this bounty when you marry someday. He’d better appreciate it, too. If he doesn’t, I’ll rough him up for you.”

Graciella laughed. “Hopefully that won’t be necessary, but thank you, brother.”

“You’re welcome.” He wrapped the rest of his hunk of bread in a dishtowel. “I’ll be in the barn if you need me.”

§

Yavi tapped lightly on Yajna’s bedroom door. “Brother, it’s me,” he whispered loudly. “I need to discuss a matter with you and Jiandra this morning.”

“Go away, you annoying bastard!” came Yajna’s sleepy-grumpy reply.

“It’s urgent,” Yavi insisted. He heard what sounded like Jiandra arguing with his brother softly.

“All right, give us a moment,” Yajna called out.

Yavi leaned his back against the wall and waited until his brother came to the door. Finally Yajna opened it, wearing a robe, and motioned Yavi inside. Jiandra had also donned a robe over her nightgown and stood beside her husband with her arms hugged around herself, her expression one of concern.

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