Petra of the Shazastar is a thief on the run from an unforgettable past. But, like all thieves, her luck cannot last forever. When she is caught, she's given a choice: either face execution or become the fortune teller to the Mad Queen.
Not surpri...
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THE COUNCIL DISSEMBLES SHORTLY AFTER the queen's announcement and she too leaves, complaining of boredom and ennui. I try to escape but Giovanni jabs a finger at me and says, "You. Stay."
I sit back in my seat and try not laugh at his distress, but he reminds me of a raging bull, the way he paces and stops and huffs and paces some more.
He tries so hard to stay in control, so hard not to explode. I watch and mentally count down the impeding destruction.
Three ...
Two ...
One ...
He stops in front of me. "You," he hisses. "You did this!"
And he says I'm not a fortune- teller.
"I am flattered Milord de Luca that you have such high expectations of me, but I must disappoint you once again - this is your aunt's doing, not mine."
He ignores me and continues pacing. I do feel a tinge of guilt and I mentally reprimand myself for feeling any sympathy towards de Luca. He certainly does not feel any towards me.
"So I guess we're partners in crime, eh?"
He looks at me blankly as if he does not realize who I am and what I am doing in the council chamber.
"I mean now that our fates are intertwined, it won't do you any good to come after me, right?"
He sinks into a seat across from me. "Stop talking. Just stop."
"Look Milord. I can help. I certainly don't want to be burnt up at the stake and you obviously want to be king. So let us put our differences aside for a minute."
"You don't know - I don't want to be -" He takes a breath. "What can you do to help? Your skills are not needed here. Thieving, lying, deceiving how will that help me?"
"Ha! The very skills used in kingdom politics, no? A do-gooder such as you milord, needs someone as accomplished as I in such ways."
Slowly, brutally, he says, "I wouldn't stoop so low."
My face burns. Any sympathy towards him evaporates and is replaced by anger - red and hot. I lean over the table and face him, inches from his face.
"Perhaps this is why your aunt does not want you to inherit the crown... you would lead this country into a depression so great everyone will kill themselves."
