Dead Reign Read Online Free PDF Page B

turned on Marla, her eyes fierce. “Parties, Marla, are a social necessity. By the people you invite and the people you choose not to invite, you send certain messages. By speaking to some and snubbing others, you make certain agendas clear. You reinforce loyalties and show disapproval. You do
business.
How else do you get all of the most important people in Felport in one room without making them suspicious and putting them on their guard? Not just the major sorcerers—though we must invite them all, even the Bay Witch, even though she drips—but the powerful up-and-comers like Langford and Partridge and Beadle, and the leaders of the Honeyed Knots and the Four Tree Gang. You show off your wealth and power. You make toasts that are also promises and warnings. You give a speech and set the
policy
for this city. You show us your vision, and remind us why we accepted you as leader! My gods, woman, how can you not know this?”
    Marla stared. “Oh. I never thought of it that way.”
    The Chamberlain’s smile was perfect and insincere. “I thought perhaps you had not. That’s why I was so pleased when you requested my assistance. Though, yes, satisfying the ghosts of the founding families is important, too. If they’re unhappy, that unhappiness spreads through the city in waves. Citizens would riot, kill one another, destroy property.
Everyone
would be swept up in the frenzy. I know you think Felport is your city, and of course it is in many ways, but the founding families think this place is
theirs.
And if they aren’t shown the proper respect, they’ll make their displeasure known. But we can turn their demands to our advantage, too. Do you see?”
    “Yeah, I see.” Marla decided it would be best to start over. She stepped into the ballroom. “So you’re helping with the cleaning?”
    “You’re surprised? You expected me to have an army of servants doing everything, while I reclined on a couch and ate grapes, perhaps? I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty, Marla, whatever you may think of me.”
    Marla grinned. “Look at you, being direct and saying exactly what you mean. I must be rubbing off on you.”
    After a moment’s consideration, the Chamberlain laughed, and it sounded genuine; at least Marla was willing to believe it was.
    “So you’re going to give me a crash course in hospitality management?”
    “Not at all. I’m far too busy. No, I’m going to give you someone who can help. I understand your last personal assistant met a bad end?”
    “Ted. Good guy. He’s missed.”
    “Then my man Pelham will be able to assist you in many capacities besides planning the Founders’ Ball, I’m sure.”
    As if responding to a secret cue, a small, serious-looking man of middle years emerged from behind a wall of drop cloths, dressed in an immaculate if unassuming suit. He bowed to the Chamberlain and Marla in turn. “Pleased to be of assistance, as always.”
    “I don’t understand,” Marla said, though she was afraid she did.
    “Pelham will be your valet, Marla. Call it a gift from me, to heal any breach between us. In the short term, he can help you plan for the party—though that is the least of his expertise. I’m sure you’ll find him an invaluable addition to your household beyond that, too.”
    “My—you want someone who’s loyal to
you
to be my, what, manservant?”
    “A lady’s maid would be more traditional, it’s true, but you’ve never been one to care about such arbitrary gender demarcations. As for his loyalty, it will be to you, and you alone. Pelham comes from a long line of servants, from the days of the founding families. Isn’t that right, Pelham?”
    “Yes, madam.”
    “He’ll be bound to you, Marla, not me, as soon as you accept him into your service. The constraints on his family line are very clear on that. No Pelham has ever had to serve two masters.”
    Marla shook her head. “Wait, he’d be bound to me? Like, magically? No, listen, I just need somebody to help