Page 41 of Mistress of Lies

Something that spoke of sedition.

He scanned the article quickly, fear sticking in his throat as the pamphlet called out the Guard and the Blood Workers who ruled them for the brutalized dead whose deaths had still to be avenged.

It wasn’t the first time he had seen something like this—calls for the Blood Workers and the nobility to expand the rights of the Unblooded. There were pamphlets for everything, from eliminating the Blood Taxes to outright impossible demands like this, asking for the Unblooded to have their own seats in the government. Before, he had been terrified of being caught with anything even remotely radical. But now?

The piece of paper felt strangely heavy in his hand, but his heart felt light. Maybe throwing money at the problem wasn’t a solution after all. But maybe there was something else.

He slipped it into his pocket and left the rest of the mess on the table.

Chapter Fourteen

Shan

Shan waited in the windowed alcove outside the Eternal King’s study, smoothing her hands over her skirts, making sure they were free of wrinkles and blemishes. Her claws glittered in the afternoon sunlight, the silver tips shining and trimmed to sharp points. Though she wasn’t going to war today, she still needed the boost of confidence that they gave her as she was summoned to face the Eternal King.

“Shan?”

Shan turned to find Samuel standing behind her, dressed in the fine suit that she had designed for him, a strained smile on his face. Laurens must have sent the final shipment along, and she hated how much the outfit suited him. Looking at him now it was almost impossible to believe there was a time he wasn’t one of them.

Now he looked like a Lord, and it stirred something deep in her that she didn’t want to acknowledge.

It had been such a short time since she had found Samuel, since she had transformed him into a proper young lord. A week had passed since their spat in the Aberforth townhouse, when she had let her guard down but for a moment and he had left her completely rattled. She had thrown herself into her work since, planning for his grand introduction to society, digging fruitlessly for information on these dead bodies that were appearing around Dameral, but nothing worked. He still lingered.

Around him, it was easy to forget who she was and what she was doing—and why. He had a genuine passion for goodness in him, warring with the darkness his gifts offered. But despite it all—the Aberforth Curse, the utter poverty in which he had been raised, the suffering he had endured—he was still earnest and kind. By bringing him into the courts of Dameral she had either doomed him or set him on a path that would leave him utterly and fundamentally changed.

The twisting, churning feeling in her gut wasn’t guilt, surely. It was merely indigestion. It would pass. She had ruined people before and would do so again. What did it matter that he was the most innocent person to ever cross paths with her?

She lied to herself as much as she lied to the rest of the world.

Shan held out her hand, formally, as she focused her eyes on the wall behind him, dropping into a low curtsy. “Lord Aberforth.”

Pain cut across his features, but he bowed in response. “Lady LeClaire.” Shan thought that would be the end of it, but he stepped close so that his voice was a whisper in her ear. “I’m sorry. About what I said.”

Shan uncurled her fingers one by one, several days of tension easing from her at once. “It’s all right.”

“It really isn’t.” His voice was low and soft, and Shan pretended that the shiver down her spine came from the cool breeze through the windows. “I’m not good at this. At… whatever we’re doing. Fixing things. Being partners. Working with others. I’m still learning.”

“Oh,” she whispered, as everything clicked into place. She had been foolish to assume, hadn’t she? He had spent his whole life alone, hiding from Blood Workers, from his power, trusting no one, especially not himself. It was terribly sad. Even she had her brother, Bart, her birds. She had never truly been alone.

“So, yeah.” Samuel ran his hand through his hair, a nervous habit that left him just a bit disheveled. It shouldn’t have been attractive, but it was, and she ached to grab his hand, to teach him stillness. “We shouldn’t keep the King waiting.”

“Of course. I had been merely waiting for you.” She followed him; her hands clasped in front of her like a proper young lady, as they stepped towards the door. The Guards acknowledged them immediately and escorted them into the study, where the King was pouring a steaming cup of tea. His desk had been cleaned off, turned into a proper tea service that had Shan blinking in surprise.

Surely the Eternal King hadn’t summoned them for something as simple as tea.

“There you are. Sit, please.” The King took his usual seat behind his desk, the contrast between his stern expression and the delicate cup in his hand throwing Shan off balance. “This blend with the rosehips is a favorite, as it comes from my own gardens.”

“That sounds lovely,” Shan said, settling gracefully into the seat at his right hand. Samuel sat directly across from her, and the King served them both. “It’s a wonderful spread.”

Samuel nodded in agreement, seemingly too overwhelmed to speak. His eyes were as wide as saucers as he took in the delicate and clearly expensive array of desserts in front of them—more than they could possibly need. But it would have been in poor taste if the Eternal King hadn’t offered them the best and largest spread, even if most of it would go to waste.

Anything less would be a snub.

“It should be, for the amount I pay my pâtissier,” the Eternal King said. “And, please, drink. The tea really is a favorite.”

They both drank at that. It was indeed wonderful, with its soft floral flavor. It helped soothe some of the unease from her, and Samuel sighed from across the table.

“Delicious, isn’t it,” the King said, with a smirk. It seemed that even such a powerful man, who had lived for centuries and held such enormous power, was still pleased when his own tastes were validated. Perhaps there was just a hint of humanity in there after all. “But, unfortunately, we must get to business.”