Chapter Eighteen Shan

Chapter Eighteen

Shan

I t should have been illegal to schedule the opening of the House of Lords for the day after the opening ball of the Season. Granted, it wasn't something that Shan ever had to deal with before and so she never gave it much thought, but for some things it only took once.

The House of Lords met in the largest chamber of the Parliament House, in a room of circles that rippled ever deeper. The topmost row was a long bench that ran along the curve of the room, and each consecutive row down ran smaller and smaller, till at last it bottomed out at the platform where the current speaker could hold the attention of the entire assembly.

The first row—the ground row—was reserved for the Royal Council, but outside of that the House of Lords was arranged in play at equality. The seating was determined alphabetically, and Shan had found her seat nearly halfway down, a shiny silver plaque displaying her name.

Lady Shan LeClaire .

She ran her fingers across it immediately, savoring the moment. It had taken her so many years, but now she was here, amongst the most powerful people in Aeravin. Those who presented and debated laws and regulations and changed the very structure of their society. One amongst equals.

There was a part of her that never thought, truly, that she would be here. That for all her father's schemes and betrayals, they would find a way to take this away from the LeClaires as well. But she had done it. She was here.

And everything she had worked for could, at last, begin.

But by the end of the first session she found that she was terribly underwhelmed. Though the chamber had been designed with things like acoustics in mind, it had not been designed for comfort. The only windows were near the ceiling, narrow things that hardly let in any breeze. Her dress stuck to her skin, sweat trailing down her neck, and her back ached from sitting on this bench for over two hours. Logically, she knew it was designed to keep them from getting too comfortable, to remind them that they were here to work in service for Aeravin, but blood and steel .

Discomfort could be just as distracting as too much comfort, and, besides, it seemed that most of the nobles had stopped paying attention long ago. Aside from Samuel, of course, who watched the entire thing with a rapt concentration that she envied. Shan had only managed to keep her attention by digging her claws into the soft flesh of her hands, just shy of drawing blood, but the pain kept her alert.

Each of the Royal Councillors had given a speech, laying out their goals and visions for this season's work. But there was a shocking lack of detail—it was all dreams and goals and useless platitudes. Flexing her fingers beneath the grip of her claws, she struggled for patience. She hadn't worked so hard and for so long just so that she could waste her time here.

The rest of her fellows were starting to file out, just as eager as she was to be gone, but she remained in her seat, taking deep breaths as she sought to find her serenity once more. She had just managed to unclench her hands when a soft but authoritative voice spoke above her. "Lady LeClaire?"

"Lord Dunn," she replied, opening her eyes to look at the Royal Councillor. He hovered above her, his willowy form casting a shadow across her. Up close, he seemed to be a creature made entirely of angles, harsh and unforgiving, but the worst were his eyes—narrowed, suspicious, judging. "You gave quite a fine speech," she lied. "I am intrigued by your policy proposals and I'm eager to hear more details."

That part wasn't a lie. Details would be useful—it would allow her to figure out who was best to befriend and who best to spurn, who could potentially be recruited to her side and who would forever be an enemy.

His lips quirked up at the sides, looking less like a smile and more like a threat. "In that case, perhaps you can spare a few minutes to join me in my office? I'd be happy to tell you more."

Her decision was made quickly—he might have a history of being conservative, but he was still a Royal Councillor. One could not simply spurn him . "Of course," she said, glancing over his shoulder to meet Samuel's gaze across the room.

It seemed the new Lord Aberforth had waited for her, but alas that was not an opportunity she could seize today. She shook her head, just barely, and Samuel slumped. There was nothing she could do about it, so she turned her attention back to the man in front of her.

He held out his hand to her, and she took it, allowing him to help her up. "I hope your first session was interesting, my lady. As I said before, it really is fortuitous that you were able to join us at the start of a session. Joining in the middle can be rather… disorienting."

She lifted her shoulder in an elegant shrug. "I've been following politics for years."

Dunn watched her from the corner of his eye as he escorted her from the room, and Shan shivered in relief as the cooler air hit her skin. "Naturally. But I daresay you are more politically inclined than most of our fellows, are you not?" She didn't know what to say to that, and Dunn smirked even wider. "Don't worry," he continued, not bothering to lower his voice, not caring who heard him. "I meant it as a compliment. I hardly recognize Dameral anymore. Most of your generation care more about parties than their duty as Blood Workers."

She waited till they had turned down a hallway before responding. "I believe you are right, but, then again, most Blood Workers my age have not been elevated to our level of responsibility. Perhaps when the time comes they will impress us."

Dunn laughed. "A true diplomat's answer. Yes, Lady LeClaire, I think you will do well here. I can always use someone with your skills on my team." He came to a stop before a large wooden door. "Right through here."

She stepped into his office, the one set aside for him here in the Parliament House so that he could handle his work as a Royal Councillor at his convenience. It was finely furnished, as was to be expected, and the window overlooked the city. But there was nothing of Dunn here—no knick-knacks or personal touches or even the smallest bit of comfort. Despite the fact that he had held his position for well over a decade it still felt as if he had just moved into the office yesterday—a plain room with no heart, no soul.

He closed the door behind her, and Shan had the sudden, wild feeling of being trapped. This man was not her ally, and she was in his territory now. But she was a LeClaire, she could not afford to show weakness.

"Please, have a seat."

She sank into the chair gracefully, waiting with her hands folded demurely in her lap. Dunn bustled around the office, gathering his papers and thoughts, before he turned to her suddenly. He didn't sit in the chair behind the desk or the one beside her. Rather, he leaned casually against the desk so that he could tower over her.

Well, if he sought to intimidate her, he would be sorely disappointed.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you here, my lady," Dunn said, staring down at her. "And the reason is that though I am quite skilled in my role—His Majesty wouldn't have appointed me otherwise—I do not have the skill to reach the younger Lords amongst us."

"And that's where you think I can come in," Shan supplied, and he grinned.

"You are quite clever indeed," Dunn said, clapping his hands together. "Even with your—" he hesitated for a long moment, then sighed. "Let's be blunt, LeClaire. I am tired of all the politicking. Even with the bad history around your family, and your own… shortcomings," his lips curled as his eyes raked over her appearance. Even though she had dressed perfectly, there was nothing she could do about her skin or features, and the contempt was still there, even when he was asking for a favor. "You have a lot of talent, and if you help me I can help you."

Shan didn't let her anger get to her—though she ached to lash out. To unleash her Blood Working upon him, forcing him to bend and break before her—as her father had. To show that her magic was as good as his. No, better.

But it would only set her back, so she took it and locked it away, deep inside, where it couldn't touch her.

All of a sudden she understood Isaac a little bit more.

"And how precisely can I help you, Lord Dunn?"

He nodded, pleased by her proper words and her gentle tone. "I have been working on this bill for a while, and I believe we can get it passed." Passing the papers to her, he continued, "Though I doubt it will be a popular bill, I hope that with the aid of someone with your skills, we can make them see that it is necessary."

Curious, Shan looked down at the paper he passed her, reading quickly. Of all the things she had expected, she certainly hadn't thought she'd see something like this, especially from Lord Dunn. She kept the expression on her face mild, but she couldn't stop her mind from whirling with the possibilities.

Tensions between Blood Workers and the Unblooded were fragile at the best of times, but she knew that things were reaching a tipping point. If something wasn't done, and soon, she wasn't sure how long the Unblooded would remain peaceful. And this bill, this bill from one of the most conservative Lords, would give in to some of their demands.

But what did Dunn have to gain from it?

"It's bold," she said, and Dunn preened like it was the greatest compliment in the world.

"It is, isn't it?" He pushed off from his desk, clasping his hands behind his back as he started to pace. "Between you and me, LeClaire, things are not looking good for Aeravin. The Eternal King has been protecting us for a millennium, but while Blood Workers have thrived the Unblooded grow frustrated with their place. Ungrateful, the lot of them. We give them so much, and this has been how they treat us?"

He sneered, and Shan realized that this was not motivated out of any kindness or sense of justice, but out of the sheer political practicality of keeping peace. "But I cannot discount that while they may not be strong, they are many. So, if we give them just a hint of what they want, we can placate them before they truly push for more. Nip this dangerous sentiment in the bud."

Though she disagreed with his morals, she couldn't argue with his logic. "Perhaps you should use that as part of your speech to the House, my lord."

He snapped his fingers. "Yes, I should! Let me write that down."

While he was scribbling she turned her gaze back to the document in her hand, trying to wrap her mind around it. "And you believe the solution is to give them a place in the government?"

"Not precisely." He turned back to her. "Rather, we'd create an office that would be dedicated to hearing their complaints and concerns, an additional branch of the Council." His smile was cold and calculating. "It would give the illusion that we are taking steps, but in the end it will still be up to the House of Lords to pass any new laws."

She bit back the retort on her tongue. He wasn't helping the Unblooded, and he knew it. All he was doing was wasting resources to create an elaborate form of trickery. At best, it would buy them a few years until the Unblooded figured out they were being played.

But still, a few years of peace would give her more time to get ingratiated into her role, to gain more power, and perhaps, just perhaps, she could use this to her advantage. She could be seen as an ally to the Unblooded, and when it was time to move—well, there would be some frameworks already in place.

"You think a lot of my opinions if you believe that I can get all of Aeravin behind this. Especially considering my," the word almost stuck in her throat, "shortcomings."

"I do," Dunn confirmed, "though you shouldn't be so hard on yourself. It's not your fault your father chose poorly. Besides, the fact that you have done so well in spite of it only proves your strength of character, does it not?" He didn't give her a chance to respond to that, luckily for him, continuing on with his planning. "Anyway, it needn't be all of Aeravin. Just enough to get it passed. Besides, the first step is not so controversial. As I said, the truth will be clear."

Again, she took that anger and locked it away inside. She was used to it—a lifetime of tiny cuts had made her numb to the pain, though she feared the day when the smallest of slights would tip her over the edge.

"Yes, it will be," Shan said, focusing on the issue at hand. The truth behind his bill. If she could see it—if all the nobles of Aeravin could—why wouldn't the Unblooded?

"It is the perfect solution," Dunn said again. "Only it is one I cannot present myself. I have a—" he coughed, looking away from Shan. "A certain reputation when it comes to the Unblooded. This plan would be too gentle to be believable as a proposal from Lord Dunn."

"Yes, you have tended towards," Shan hesitated, "conservative policies."

"The Unblooded are coddled, and if I had my way we'd remind them of their place before they start getting out of hand." He grabbed something off his desk, passing it to her. "Such a travesty would not have been allowed when I was young."

It was a pamphlet—the kind that the Unblooded passed among themselves. Usually harmless, but a quick glance confirmed that this was not the normal kind. This was outright seditious—demanding change to the very structure of the government itself.

While the Blood Workers revel , it read, leeching off our labor, we are not given even the slightest consideration. If they cannot be bothered to legislate for our needs, perhaps they should allow us to do it for them. For, unlike them, we are accustomed to hard work.

"Disgusting, isn't it?" Dunn sneered. "Keep it, read it. It's good to know what these rats are thinking. But I am not the hot-blooded young fool I once was. If there is a chance to settle this peaceably, then we should. But if they reject it?" There was a hunger in his eyes, barely restrained, that chilled Shan. "That's another matter entirely."

"I understand." Shan folded the papers, slipping them into her reticule.

"Good." He leaned forward, resting his hands on the armrests of her chair. "Of course, I don't expect an answer on this now, but I want you to understand that I have eyes and ears everywhere. Should the details of my bill—or my grander plans—become public, I will know how. Am I understood?"

Shan didn't flinch. "If I am not to discuss the bill, how am I to sway people to your side?"

"Oh, you are. But it's not my bill. It will be yours."

"Ah," Shan said. "I see."

She was to be the tool to be used, the pawn he played when he couldn't make the move himself. It was a degrading role, but still… there would be advantages.

"Precisely." He stepped back. "I think we understand each other well, LeClaire. We can help each other, if you want it." Shan opened her mouth to respond, but he held up his hand. "Don't. Prove it to me with actions, or not at all. Good day, my lady."

Shan stood and curtsied. "Good day, Lord Dunn." She let herself out without turning back to him, focusing instead on the potential he offered her—not the pain, not the insults—with a clear mind.

Yes, this plan would fail. Eventually. Yes, she would be his tool.

But the favor of a Royal Councillor would be quite the currency to collect, and the prestige of building up power in the House of Lords itself would pay out quite nicely.

All she had to do was hold her nose and close her eyes.

"Lady LeClaire!"

She spun, turning to see a young woman in Royal Livery running her way.

"A message for you," the woman said, holding out an envelope.

Shan took it, hesitating only for a second as she studied the seal—a rose in dark red wax. A message from the King. She hid a smile as she turned away from the messenger, though it faded quickly as she opened the note.

Well, there was an investigation to be done. Another body had been found.