49

There were some aspects of espionage that Irina quite enjoyed. Utilizing politely manipulative conversation to discern the opaque motives of others was not only a pleasant activity, but also came quite naturally to her. Yet there were other aspects, such as blatant eavesdropping, which she found not only unsavory but extremely unladylike. And yet, Zaniolo had made it clear that such activities fell under her purview. Frankly, she felt the general could have put someone else in charge of this more “hands-on” aspect. But he had pointed out, not unreasonably, that should she be caught, she would have a much better chance of talking her way out of an international incident than one of his men.

And so, since she had been unable to discern Ambassador Boz’s sources through polite conversation, she was now forced to take… less elegant measures. After one of the usual expatriate gatherings, rather than returning to her own apartments, Irina lingered in the garden for a few moments with the intent of following Boz at a discreet distance.

Unfortunately, Hexenmeister Cloos interpreted Irina’s action as an invitation for a more intimate conversation. It was clear the man was preoccupied with her, but it was not attention she particularly enjoyed. He had not yet made a direct overture, and seemed to forever lurk in the periphery, fixing her with his hollow-eyed stare as if watching an exotic bird. She had known him for some time now, yet still couldn’t decide if he was merely awkward or genuinely creepy. In either case, she typically made a point of never being alone with him. But she had been so preoccupied with her plans to tail the ambassador that she had forgotten him completely until this moment.

“Ah… Lady Portinari, might I… have a moment of your time?”

Irina cringed inwardly but allowed no outward appearance of her disdain.

“Of course, Hexenmeister Cloos.”

He kept his eyes downcast, as if unwilling to even chance meeting her gaze. “I have been… working on something. A project of sorts, related to metallurgy and enchantment.”

“I’m glad you have been able to continue to practice your craft,” said Irina. “No doubt the empress finds great value in what you do.”

“Oh, I… haven’t shown this particular project to her yet. In fact, I haven’t shown anyone yet. I was… hoping you would be the first.”

A pretext to lure her to his rooms? Perhaps. And if he were to force himself upon her, what recourse would she have? His word against hers? And even if they believed her, who was the more valuable guest, the mother of a captain with great military potential who now seemed reluctant to exercise that potential, or a traitor to their enemy with no doubt a great deal of valuable information? No, the situation was dicey at best. Yet if she were to flat out refuse him, it would likely delay her enough that she would lose the ambassador’s trail.

“I am deeply flattered, Hexenmeister, and I look forward to it.”

His face lit up. “That’s wonderful! Perhaps we—”

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I really must be going.” She stood and curtsied, then made a swift exit. Anyone who observed her would no doubt interpret her speed as an eagerness to leave Cloos rather than urgency to follow Boz. A not altogether incorrect assumption.

“Oh, er, yes, I look forward to it as well!” he called after her.

It seemed Irina would have to begin contemplating ready excuses to avoid “viewing” his “project” from now on. But she couldn’t worry about that at present. Zaniolo had given her to believe that the ambassador usually disappeared somewhere around midday, and he strongly suspected that this was when she met with her contacts. Irina was not to interrupt it in any way, but merely get a visual description of these contacts, and if possible listen in to the conversation. The sooner she got this sordid business over with, the better.

She hurried down the hallways where she’d seen Boz heading, but there was now no sign of her. Irina walked faster, shoes rapping on the stone floor. The hallway turned to the right a short way down and she spun sharply on her heel, hoping to catch sight of her quarry.

Instead, she bumped directly into her.

Some spy she turned out to be.

“Oh my!” exclaimed Ambassador Boz as they collided. “Lady Portinari? Are you okay?”

“Yes, my deepest apologies,” Irina said, trying to conceal her panic.

“You appear to be in quite a rush.” The ambassador sounded concerned rather than suspicious, but Irina knew this was a woman skilled at concealing her reactions. She would need an alibi. And quickly.

“Ah yes,” said Irina. “The hexenmeister was attempting to lure me to his apartments and I felt it necessary to make a speedy departure.”

Boz let out her light, tinkling laugh. “You seem so flustered, my lady. I would think a handsome widow such as yourself would be quite used to such overtures.”

Irina gave a weary smile. “While that is true, I fear Cloos’s particular method of wooing leaves me somewhat discomfited.”

Boz’s dark eyebrows curved down. “I do hope he hasn’t acted shamefully.”

“Not yet,” said Irina. “But there is something about his demeanor that makes me apprehensive.”

“He is a bit awkward,” agreed the ambassador. “Like most geniuses.”

“Is he a genius, then?” Irina asked, feeling a little more at ease.

Boz flashed a knowing look. “Indeed he is. Does that change your disposition toward him somewhat?”

“I don’t find him any more appealing, if that’s what you mean,” said Irina. “But my son is quite gifted as well, and terribly awkward. So perhaps it allows me to interpret the hexenmeister’s actions more generously.”

“Ah, I see,” said Boz. “Well, I am glad I could to some extent restore the harmony within our strange little group.”

“It is a… curious collection, isn’t it.”

“Especially that Captain Aguta,” said Boz.

“Why him in particular?” asked Irina. “I find him rather charming.”

“Oh yes. It’s not him specifically that troubles me, but what he represents. An entire continent on the other side of the ocean that we know nothing about? Islands with secret magic?” Boz sighed. “It’s enough to keep a diplomat up at night.”

“Are you concerned this Aukbontar might have ambitions of conquest?” asked Irina.

Boz’s eyes crinkled. “All countries have ambitions of one sort or another. Now, if you will excuse me.”

“Of course, I’m sorry to have kept you,” said Irina as she stepped aside. She wondered if the ambassador’s assertion regarding ambition included Victasha as well.

She waited until Boz was some distance down the hallway. Then, loath as she was to do so, she removed her shoes and padded silently after on stocking feet.

Extremely unladylike.