Gideon
Estela Reyes was a formidable woman.
Unlike plenty of the men in other sectors, Gideon had never been threatened or discomfited by formidable women. His aunt had been legendary for her passion and her temper. His mother’s strength might have been quieter, but Juana’s sharp mind and fearless heart had shaped Gideon’s perception of what courage was.
Estela Reyes was every bit as sharp as Juana, but her cunning was extremely focused and relentlessly mercenary. She’d planned the seating for her welcome dinner with the careful strategy of any general, dividing the Rios family between various tables. The people she’d placed next to them revealed her priorities for the week.
Poor Maricela had Ivan as a buffer on one side, but the rest of her table was heavily slanted toward eligible Reyes cousins who would spend the evening competing for her attention. At any other meal, Ivan’s stern-faced glower might have chilled the flirting, but noble sons of the Reyes family weren’t likely to be easily intimidated.
Estela’s husband, Diego Reyes, was seated beside Isabela at a different table. No doubt they were exchanging fond stories of the early days growing up in the Prophet’s palace, when Diego’s father had stood at their grandfather’s right hand as his most trusted advisor. Estela knew how much Isabela valued tradition.
But Estela had saved Gideon for herself. She sat at his left, her long black hair held back from her face in an intricate mass of braids that offered the illusion of a crown. Her complexion was slightly darker than his, and her smooth skin showed only the tiniest wrinkles around her eyes. Her spine was perfectly straight, her smile pitch perfect for an honored hostess, and it wasn’t hard to believe she’d been the most celebrated beauty of her generation.
Which had caused plenty of men to underestimate her. Gideon might not find her threatening, but he wouldn’t make that mistake, either.
Gideon had already considered the possibility that she might have used her considerable wealth to hire mercenaries to kill his Riders and weaken his position. A man in a weakened position might grasp for allies, or even agree to a marriage proposal. But for all of Estela’s elegant ruthlessness, Gideon couldn’t imagine her doing anything that would endanger her precious, beloved son.
Then again, the easiest way to wipe out the Riders would have been a bomb dropped on the barracks. The fact that the Kings hadn’t taken such a simple opportunity might indicate their orders had included a command to keep one particular Rider alive. Or it might simply indicate that their leader’s obsession with Deacon had been his downfall, after all.
The sparse evidence they had didn’t point to Estela, but Gideon couldn’t rule her out, either. Of one thing, there was no doubt--the Reyes matriarch had marriage alliances on her mind.
“Aren’t the dishes lovely?” Estela asked, indicating the dip-glazed setting in front of him with a flourish. “Anita made them, you know. She’s very skilled.”
Nita looked like she wanted to sink through her chair and be swallowed up by the earth. “Mother--”
“They’re beautiful,” Gideon cut in, rubbing a thumb along the edge of his plate. It wasn’t even a lie--Nita was very skilled. The plate in front of him somehow captured the glory of a Sector One sunset, pinks and purples in the middle that spiraled out into blue and then midnight, with tiny specks of white mimicking a thousand stars.
Exquisite, and no doubt capable of commanding an incredible price. Most of the nobles present would leap at a chance to add Nita’s skills--and her inheritance--to their families.
Estela had other ideas. She always did.
“Beautiful, yes, but also functional.” Estela tilted her head and smiled. “Beauty fades. True strength will always endure.”
Gideon’s usual gracious smile didn’t come naturally. He had to summon it, responding to Estela with the expected compliments about the wisdom of her pithy words. He could only hope Nita was oblivious to the subtext--but a glance to his right showed a fixed smile and Nita gesturing for a servant to refill her wine glass.
That kindled a spark of anger. Nita was a beautiful young woman. Maybe not the type of petite, fragile beauty her mother was, but undeniably gorgeous all the same. Del often expressed amused exasperation over the string of lovesick guards and gardeners who wrote Nita terrible poetry and brought her gifts and woke up half the acolytes by throwing pebbles at her window.
And three days after she’d been born, Gideon had attended her christening with his mother. Cute, adorable baby Nita had cooed and then thrown up on him.
He would always be fond of Nita. And nothing on earth would compel him to marry her, not even Estela Reyes.
As the conversation continued, his gaze drifted to the opposite side of the garden, where Avery had been seated so far away she was practically in the trees. Zeke was at the table with her, and Lucio, along with several West and Montero cousins so distant they barely qualified as noble.
They looked like they were having a lot more fun than he was.
Estela’s subtle knife may have sliced Nita to the bone, but it cut Gideon deeper than he wanted to admit. Estela was too smart a woman to pass up the opportunity to forge a relationship with Avery. Avery’s sister wasn’t just the co-ruler of Sector Four, but one of the most influential women in their world. Anyone who valued power as much as the Reyes matriarch should have been working hard to ingratiate herself to Lex Parrino’s only sister.
Unless, of course, she saw Avery as a threat to her plans for Nita.
His patience for political games had waned since the war, but this week he’d have to play them fiercely. He’d have to be charming and personable, wise and just. He’d have to ferret out who might wish him ill and who might have paid to hurt his Riders.
And he’d have to flirt with the eligible men and women thrown into his path enthusiastically enough to dispel any rumors. Because if Estela Reyes had noticed his...weakness for Avery, it was only a matter of time before other people did, as well, turning her into a target.