When he spoke, Ashwin’s voice was light and cheerful. Almost teasing. “The senior secretary of defence is very perceptive.” He planted one elbow on the table and rested his chin on the palm of his hand, gazing languidly at Dhriti. “Which is why it’s hard for me to believe that someone so astute could’ve been duped by a half-witted brute like Farid into doing his bidding.”

“What’re you babbling about?” Dhriti snapped, her shoulders stiff and chin jutting out. Her voice had finally lost the fake sweetness that’d been grating on Ruban’s nerves all evening.

“Farid,” Ashwin repeated. “One of the smugglers that used to work for Janak Nath and his Qawirsin. He was arrested at the Zainian border last year and held in Ragah. Ruban, as well as his partner Simani Vaz, tried to interrogate him several times while investigating the feather mafia and its activities. And each time, their request was blocked by the Department of Defence.” He glanced at Ruban, then at Raizada, the director of the IAW. “Unless I’m very much mistaken.”

“What?” thundered Rifaq, pinning Dhriti with an outraged glare. “Why the hell did I not know about this?” Turning to Ruban, he demanded, “Is this true?”

Ruban nodded. But before he could elaborate any further, Raizada spoke up. “It’s true. The IAW tried several times to arrange an interview with Farid, at Kinoh’s request. Each time, the scheduled appointment was either postponed or cancelled at the last moment. When we looked into it, we realized that these orders were coming from the Department of Defence. Although, of course, we don’t know for sure if the senior secretary had anything to do with it, personally.”

Rifaq narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. The implications of Raizada’s words were clear to everyone at the table. Apart from the senior secretary of defence, the only person with the authority to repeatedly stonewall the IAW would be the defence minister himself. Which was why Raizada hadn’t brought the matter to him, directly. Because he couldn’t be sure if Rifaq was complicit.

The mood in the conference room had turned on a dime, the focus shifting from Ashwin to Dhriti. Accusations and insinuations flew in every direction, and the next fifteen minutes passed with Dhriti trying every trick in the book to turn attention away from herself.

“All of this would be awkward enough,” Ashwin quipped, cutting Dhriti off mid-rant. “But rumors say you’re also on the board of the media trust under Tej Enterprises, one of the largest feather refineries in Vandram. Many of the smaller refineries were suspected of doing business with the mafia last year, but I’m sure Tej Enterprises wasn’t among them.”

Dhriti’s voice was shrill with agitation. “This is nothing more than slander. There’s no way you can–”

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Ashwin held up both hands. “I take it back. You’re right. The trust hasn’t disclosed its top management, and no information about the trustees is available to the public. What I said was baseless speculation.” He dipped his head. “I beg your pardon.”

Dhriti’s eyes flashed with fury. She knew, as did everyone else in the room, that Ashwin had achieved his goal. He’d planted the seeds of doubt and, more importantly, shattered the united front that the Cabinet had been trying to present.

For a few seconds, she glared at Ashwin, saying nothing. Then, her lips twisted into a malevolent little smile, the sugary sweetness returning to her voice. “I wouldn’t put too much faith in unsubstantiated rumors, if I were you. After all, you know what they say about people living in glass houses…” She fluttered her lashes, coquettish. “You’re not in a position to be throwing stones at others.”

“Is that so?” Ashwin asked.

Dhriti’s smile widened. “People talk all kinds of nonsense, don’t you know? Anyone in the public eye, even fleetingly, will have their lives turned inside out with…what did you call it?” She frowned. “Ah, yes. Baseless speculation.

“And you’ve been in the public eye quite frequently, these last few years. The capital is rife with rumors about your whereabouts during the clash at Reivaa’s old castle, when the Hunter Corps fought the feather mafia and their Aeriel allies.” She shot a quick glance at Ruban, before turning her gaze back to Ashwin. “Some have even gone so far as to suggest that you spent some time in Janak Nath’s dubious hospitality.”

Ruban’s heart clenched painfully in his chest. “What do you mean?” he demanded, before he could stop himself.

“It’s just rumors. People will say anything to entertain themselves. And given the news of Janak Nath’s…disturbing interest in Aeriels,” Dhriti shrugged. “It’s natural that some unsavory rumors would be making the rounds. Particularly in circles that are aware of Ashwin’s true identity. Some even claim to have videos. But, of course,” she chuckled softly. “It’s all just baseless speculation. I’d never believe a word of it, myself, unless I see the evidence with my own eyes.”

As she spoke, Ruban stole a glance at Ashwin. His face was a study in blank neutrality. If Dhriti’s words had elicited any reaction in him, he did not show it.

Ruban didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned.

Did Ashwin believe her? If she’d been hand in glove with the Qawirsin, it was possible that she might’ve obtained a recording of Ashwin’s time in captivity. He wouldn’t put it past Janak Nath to capture his sadistic depravity on film.

But even if such a video existed, there was no way for Dhriti to use it without incriminating herself. Her connection with the feather mafia would be exposed the moment the video was traced back to her. So why make a threat she couldn’t follow through on?

His thoughts were interrupted by Dr. Visht, who murmured wistfully. “Ah yes, Janak Nath and his extralegal experimentation. Very unethical, of course, but a recording could prove invaluable to the scientific community. He did give us some interesting insights into the impact of pyroprocessing on reinforced sif ores, and their interaction with the dermal and hypodermal layers of Aeriel skin. The heat seems to have a tempering effect on the energy-depleting properties of sif, but the extent of it can’t be determined without…”

Ruban tuned him out. It’d taken him a moment to realize what the man was babbling about. He closed his eyes, suddenly exhausted.

In the background, Dr. Visht continued rhapsodizing about Janak Nath’s sadistic branding of Aeriels – and its apparent scientific merits.