Home > The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court #1)(124)

The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court #1)(124)
Author: Richelle Mead

Mira slung her arm around me. “Stay strong.”

They ate dinner with me at Aiana’s place, and then Aiana said she had to take Mira back to Wisteria Hollow before curfew. “I’ll be out on my own errands after that. Stay inside, and keep the door locked. There’s no telling what this may have stirred up.”

I hated to see Mira go, but there was a good chance her absence had been noted. She’d done more than enough for me today, and I didn’t want her to get in trouble.

“Your contract’s coming up,” I said. “What will you do?”

She shrugged. “Something.”

I cast a glance over toward where Aiana had gone in her bedroom. “Is the reason you haven’t chosen someone . . . are you and Aiana, I mean . . .”

It took Mira a few moments to understand, and she shook her head. “No, no. Aiana’s been good to me . . . a, uh, mentor of sorts. But I like men. I just don’t like any one of the ones I’ve met.”

Seeing as I’d already embarrassed myself, I figured I should go the whole way. “Before you came to Blue Spring Manor, did anything ever happen between you and Cedric?”

She seemed to find that even more incredible. “No. Why would you think that?”

I flushed. “He’s always liked you. And he did so much for you.”

Mira’s smile was gentle. “He did so much for me because he’s a kind man. And we’ll find a way to save him.”

They left me alone with my whirling thoughts. I’d come up with some brilliant, outlandish idea—like breaking in and rescuing Cedric—and then the reality would hit, plunging me into despair. It was mentally exhausting, and I’d decided to go to bed when a knock sounded at the door.

Remembering Aiana’s warnings, I nearly made no response at all. Then, I crept forward and asked, “Who’s there?”

“Gideon Stewart.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“I’m a minister—from Grashond. I helped bring your friend Tamsin back.”

Memories of the day of her return stirred in me. Most of the Grashond delegates had blurred together, but the more I thought about it, the more his name began to sound familiar. I was still reluctant to open the door.

“What do you want?”

“I might know a way to save Mister Thorn. It involves the colony of Westhaven, but I’d need your help.”

At the mention of Westhaven, I couldn’t resist. I opened the door and found the handsome blond man who’d come to Wisteria Hollow. He wore the same drab attire as before. After casting a quick glance down the hall, I waved him in and shut the door.

“Well?” I kept my arms crossed over me. Religious purist or not, I wanted to be cautious.

“I was at the courthouse today . . . and I’m very sorry for what you’re going through,” he said. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think they’ll be able to rule on the dispute. Too many contradictions, no proof. With no one killed, they’ll write it off as a brawl.”

My heart sank. Of course I was glad that meant Cedric wouldn’t be implicated, but I hated the thought of Warren going unpunished.

Gideon made a face. “Unfortunately, I think the Alanzan charge will hold. Even without actual worship, those artifacts are damning. I’ve seen men convicted for far less. Those in power will accept that witness’s statement, and I’m sure Warren Doyle has enough sway to get the full punishment enforced—probably immediately.”

“Death.” I sank into the chair. I was on a precipice with Cedric again. If he died, I would fall and fall forever. “So what miracle can you pull out? Do the Heirs have some special power?”

He gave me a small smile. “No. But the colony of Westhaven does. Those who’ve bought a stake would technically be citizens of it. The reciprocal privilege between the colonies allows citizens from outside to practice certain things, even if they’re illegal in that colony—so long as they don’t break any other laws. This would apply to Cedric. The fight in Hadisen had nothing to do with the Alanzans.”

“That’s great,” I said, “except Cedric’s not a citizen of Westhaven. Though it hasn’t been for lack of trying.”

“There are representatives from Westhaven in the city right now, and they’ve been selling stakes. If Cedric was able to purchase one, and you found an attorney to go over the paperwork and, how shall I put this, modify the date, Cedric could claim retroactive protection as a citizen of Westhaven. Assuming you could find that kind of attorney. I suppose in this town, you can find anything.”

I sat up straight, too shocked by this possibility to even reflect on a righteous minister suggesting something so illegal. “I might . . . might know an attorney who would.”

Gideon brightened. “Then you just need to buy the stake.”

“There’s no ‘just’ about it. I know how much those cost. And we don’t have—” I groaned as the answer hit me. “I know where I can get the money. Maybe. But it won’t be easy.”

“I’m sure it won’t. I wish . . . I wish I could help you on that front. But I’ve already spent my savings buying my own stake.”

I regarded him in astonishment. “Why would a minister from the Heirs of Uros buy a stake in a religiously tolerant colony—one that’s already getting a reputation for wild ways?”

He gave me a wry smile. “Because this minister isn’t so sure he agrees with his brethren anymore.”

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