Page 20 of Mistress of Lies
She smiled, taking in the books scattered around her, bookmarks sticking out of them at odd angles and scribbled notes littering the desk. “It does look that way, doesn’t it?”
Anton only hummed in response, grabbing a chair and spinning it around so he could sit facing her. “Mind telling me what this is about?”
“Planning,” Shan said carefully, knowing that he didn’t care a whit about the liters of blood that she needed delivered for her own Blood Working. No, this was about something deeper, something far more dangerous than invoices, and, still, Shan did not know how to address it. It used to be so easy, but things between them had been tense since the death of their father.
It seemed that he was finally starting to warm up to her again, their relationship slipping back into the ease that they used to know, back when they were both young enough to trust each other completely, to share everything.
“Clearly.” Anton poured them both tea, downing his while it was still scalding. “Would it have anything to do with the rumor that you went searching for last night?”
Shan didn’t answer right way, cutting into the fresh, warm pandesal so that she could fill it with eggs and tapa—a quick and dirty breakfast sandwich. “How much has Bart told you?”
“Blood and steel, why do I even bother?” He leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. “I might as well be talking to a wall.”
Shan’s smile faltered. “What? It helps to know how much you know, so I know how much I need to explain.”
“Did you really find the Aberforth?” Anton ground out, then, to punish her, he snatched one of her pandesal and shoved it into his mouth whole.
“Hey!” She hit his arm as he chewed obnoxiously. “Get your own!” Smacking his lips as he finished, Anton grinned at her. “I hate you, brother.”
“No, you don’t.” He winked. “Now tell me how it went.”
Shan considered her choices. Her first instinct, even now, even with him, was to lie, to soften the blow. But she knew that she would end up telling him the truth, even if it wasn’t always upfront. “It went well. I explained to him why I wanted to burn down Aeravin and asked him if he’d help us.”
Anton did not disappoint. He rocked back in his chair, the whole thing groaning under his weight. “Are you insane?”
“No,” she replied smoothly. “I’m proactive.”
“We know nothing about him!’
Shan couldn’t help rolling her eyes at that, but she kept her voice even. Calm, always calm, even when it hurt. Especially when it hurt. “I’ve been following rumors of this boy for years. My file on him is nearly as thick as you are.”
Anton glared, her words doing nothing to douse the fire in his eyes. “That file is rumors and gossip. It isn’t real.”
She placed her teacup down with exaggerated care and grace, forcing the anger aside so that he could not see how much his words cut. Rising, she held herself tall, her chin high, daring him to contradict her. “My files are very real, dear brother. They are observation and information, and, yes! Rumors and gossip. A lie can be more powerful than the truth, if applied correctly.”
“Of course you’d say that,” Anton replied, with no small amount of bitterness. “After all, aren’t you more lies that truth yourself?”
She slapped him, hard and fast, right across the face. He reeled back, touching the reddened skin in shock. They both stared at each other for the longest moment, as something between them cracked like glass—hairline fractures nearly invisible to the eye, but still so dangerous.
“I shouldn’t have hit you,” Shan said, in the same breath that Anton said, “I deserved that.”
Shan wanted nothing more than to run to him, to wrap her brother in her arms and beg his forgiveness. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it, so she said, her voice as cool and implacable as ice, “It was beneath both of us.”
Anton nodded, withdrawing further into himself, and Shan let him. “All right. But my point still stands. We don’t actually know him.”
No, Anton didn’t. But she did, just a little. In their brief meeting, she had seen to the heart of Samuel Aberforth—the control he tried so desperately to maintain over the righteous fire that burned within. He was a man a breath away from catching on fire, and Shan wanted nothing more than to watch him blaze.
But she didn’t tell her brother any of this. She couldn’t. Those moments were hers, and she wasn’t ready to share them. She said instead, “The only way to know was to act. And besides, I’m a wonderful judge of character. How else could I have built all this?”
Anton wasn’t convinced. “Yes, fine. But you promised us—me—time. This whole plan of yours,” he said, gesturing widely, as if to encompass the entirety of her life’s work, “is crazy. It’s one thing when you’re just playing information broker, when we’re talking a little blackmail, a little influence, changing a few laws. But that’s not your game here.”
Shan shook her head. “First of all, I’m not playing at anything, Anton. And this is an opportunity we cannot ignore. We can take down the King and replace him with someone new—someone human. Besides, it’s not like he knows the full of it. Not yet. He just knows that I want to make changes to Aeravin. Make things better. Fairer. All the same things he wants.”
Anton settled back in his chair, chewing his lip. “And you’re sure he didn’t see through that?”
She frowned. “Are you doubting my ability to lie?”
“I see through your lies all the time,” Anton offered, and she huffed. “Fine, fine. I’m just saying that this is a lot.”