Heart of the Moors

Chapter 16

“Did you hear her this afternoon?” Lord Ortolan demanded, pacing his chamber. “We must act, and swiftly.”

He had wormed his way into King Henry’s court many years before. He knew how to flatter a ruler, how to inflame ambition in his breast.

It had been easy to steer King Henry toward greater and greater excess, until war with the Moors had been the only way to enrich his treasury. King Stefan had been more difficult, especially after the death of Queen Leila, when he spent more and more time alone, shouting at the pair of wings he’d caged, as though they were likely to give him advice.

But that setback had led Lord Ortolan to greater opportunities. After all, if King Stefan wasn’t capable of dealing with matters of trade and taxes, then someone else had to do it. Someone had to note down into official record the gold and silver that was moving through the treasury. And someone had to help those nobles who sought Stefan’s favor find his ear. If Lord Ortolan had managed to enrich himself through all that, well, it was only what he deserved.

But none of his tactics seemed to be working with Aurora. She seemed to care little for flattery, and while she had ambition, it wasn’t the kind Lord Ortolan found useful to exploit.

“I did hear her,” Count Alain said, sitting in a chair. “I don’t think Queen Aurora cares a whit for your advice.”

Lord Ortolan turned toward him, unable to hide his anger. Count Alain’s father had been an easy man to work with. He had understood what it took to accomplish things, and Lord Ortolan had assumed his son would be cut from the same cloth. So far, he’d had cause to regret that. Count Alain was entirely too used to having his own way without working for it. “Be careful,” Lord Ortolan warned. “You need me. Not the other way around.”

“Oh?” asked Alain. “And I suppose you have another way to get your nephew appointed as your replacement despite being barely older than Aurora herself.”

Lord Ortolan gritted his teeth but didn’t snap at the count. Alain might be proud and lazy, but he wasn’t wrong. And Lord Ortolan was depending on that laziness; otherwise, how would his nephew manage to take over the operation of siphoning funds from the treasury? “And yet you have even less influence than I, even after your extravagant present.”

Count Alain sighed. “You said she would be tractable.”

“I was wrong. I did not realize how deep the rot ran.” Lord Ortolan looked down at the count. “But there is still hope. You will become the girl’s hero.”

“And just how am I supposed to do that?” Alain complained.

“We need a story. And a villain. And we must separate her from Maleficent and Phillip both,” declared Lord Ortolan. “The only question is whether you have the courage to do what must be done.”