Ghost in the Throne (Ghost Exile #7) by Jonathan Moeller

coming for Istarinmul. 
    He reached the gates of the Umbarian embassy, the Huntress riding at his side. A few miles from the city Kalgri had discarded her crimson armor, changing it for one of the dresses she had worn in Rumarah. All trace of the deadly Huntress had vanished, and now she seemed simply a pretty young woman in a cheerful yellow dress and headscarf. 
    Rather like a poisonous spider lurking within a bright flower.
    Cassander laughed at the notion and swung down from his saddle. 
    Four Adamant Guards stood at the gates to the mansion, their torsos wrapped in carapaces of steel, their foreheads marked with the winged skull of the Order. He saw the recognition go over their faces, saw the flicker of surprise and even fear. Adamant Guards, by design, felt very little emotion, and it pleased Cassander that he could still inspire fear in them. 
    “Who has been in command during my absence?” he said.
    “Lady Nicephorus, Lord Cassander,” said one of the Guards with a bow. “The situation has been…ah, unsettled.”
    “While the cat is gone, the rats fight, is that it?” said Kalgri. 
    The Guard gave her a wary look. None of Cassander’s minions knew what she really was, and most of them thought Kalgri his mistress or perhaps his advisor. Those who had seen her fight knew enough to respect her. “It is not my place to comment upon the decisions of magi of the Order, my lady.”
    “Indeed not,” said Cassander. “Where is Maria Nicephorus now?”
    “In the dining hall, my lord,” said Guard. 
    “Splendid,” said Cassander. “I have instructions for her.” 
    He walked past the guards, across the small courtyard, and entered the fortified mansion that served as the Umbarian embassy. Within the dining hall a long table stretched the length of the room, illuminated by enspelled glass globes hanging from the ceiling. Maria Nicephorus stood at the table, speaking with several centurions of the Adamant Guards and a half-dozen lesser Umbarian magi. She wore the black leather greatcoat favored by the magi of the Order, enspelled to the strength of steel, and her black hair had been pulled into a braid, giving her face a stark and forbidding look. 
    Then she saw Cassander, and the severity vanished, replaced by fear.
    “Lord Cassander,” said Maria, stepping back. “You have returned?”
    “Surprised?” said Cassander, Kalgri waiting behind him. “Or disappointed. Not disappointed, I hope.”
    “Of course not, lord,” said Maria. “You sent no word for weeks. We feared you had been slain or shipwrecked.” Her eyes flicked over the patchwork scars on the left side of his face, and to her credit, she did not look away. “It seems you encountered…difficulties.”
    “They have been overcome,” said Cassander. “I return victorious. Caina Amalas is slain.” He gestured, and Kalgri raised the Ghost’s shadow-cloak and ghostsilver dagger. “Proof of her death.”
    “Congratulations, my lord,” said Maria. “This will earn you great prestige among the brothers and sisters of the Order, perhaps even the favor of the High Provost herself.”
    “It will also earn the defeat of the Empire,” said Cassander. “In exchange for the death of the Balarigar, Callatas promised to open the Straits to the Order’s fleet.”
    Maria’s gray eyes widened. “This is tremendous news, my lord. If the Grand Master keeps his word, Malarae will fall within the year.”
    “Indeed,” said Cassander. “Summon the scribes. I wish a proclamation written and posted in every bazaar and pinned to the door of every shop in Istarinmul. Announce that the Balarigar has been slain, that the Umbarian Order has killed Caina Amalas. Then send a messenger to the Grand Wazir to ask for…no, to demand an audience three days from now. I will meet with the Grand Wazir in the Golden Palace, and the Grand Master shall keep his promise to the Order.” 
    “It will be as you command, lord,” said Maria with a