Page 51 of Mistress of Lies
Isaac’s eyes glazed over, his expression surprisingly soft. “Yes, of course.” It came and went so quickly that Samuel could almost believe that he hadn’t noticed, but then Isaac’s brows furrowed and his lips curved into a frown. “Blood and steel, did you just—?”
“I’m sorry!” Samuel blurted. “I tried to stop it but sometimes it just—”
Isaac shook his head, like he was trying to clear it of fog. “That was truly bizarre. I almost didn’t notice it, but there was this almost imperceptible feeling of wrongness.” He grinned at Samuel. “I’m looking forward to our testing—I must know how this works. Is it always so subtle?”
“I don’t think so?” Samuel blinked at him, still waiting for the anger and hurt to come. “It’s easier if you were already likely to do it in the first place.”
“Interesting,” Isaac said. “We shouldn’t be talking about this here. But soon, I promise. The King and I will help you figure out this thing in your blood, and you will master it.”
“Thank you?” Samuel waited for the catch, but there didn’t seem to be one. Everyone wanted something from him, but perhaps all that Isaac wanted was a friend. As important as he was in court, he seemed to have shockingly few of them.
“Naturally. And I am sorry about all this as well.” He gestured to the crowd. “Next time we’ll go small. Just a handful of people, and I’ll make sure Shan has time to prepare you properly beforehand. She’s even better at this than I am.”
“That would be nice.”
“You understand that it had to be this way, right? It had to be a show.”
Samuel didn’t understand, but he was too tired to argue. “Why are you doing all this, anyway?”
“For the King,” Isaac said, as if that explained it all.
Perhaps it did. The King was the most powerful man in Aeravin, and it was clear that Isaac had worked hard to put himself at his side. Samuel didn’t know his story, but he could see the sacrifices writ in Isaac’s face—in the bags under his eyes and the exhaustion he tried so hard to hide. In the callous way he studied the people around him, so at odds with the genuine kindness he had shown Samuel.
Isaac would do anything it took to climb in Aeravinian society, and Samuel didn’t really blame him for it. They made bastards of them all.
Samuel felt a heavy gaze on him, and he turned to find Shan staring at him. Unlike the others, who kept stealing coy glances, she looked straight at him, daring.
“Is there something I should know about?” Isaac asked.
Samuel didn’t look away from her. “What do you mean?”
Isaac tsked, lowly. “Already playing with fire, I see. Despite my warning.” He leaned against the banister, turning so that he faced Samuel, his eyes shrewd and cold. “She could have had my place, you know. She had the skill and the mind for it. But between the disgrace that was her father and the shame of her brother everyone knew it wouldn’t happen. Better to risk it on an unknown like me than a LeClaire.”
“The shame of her brother?” Samuel frowned. Anton might be a bit of a walking scandal, but he wasn’t that outrageous.
“Oh, yes.” Isaac looked at him, surprised. “Did you not know? She has a twin, just as beautiful as her, but Unblooded.”
Samuel blinked. That was the shame? “And that is a problem?”
“It doesn’t help,” Isaac admitted. “It’s bad enough being a LeClaire, but, as Shan is proving, that is a stain that can be forgiven. Antonin, though, is a bit of a radical, and Unblooded to boot. Those things do not mix, not in polite society. Shan is the LeClaire you should be seen with, not Antonin.”
Samuel scoffed. “I didn’t know the court of public opinion was so fickle.”
“Blood and steel, Samuel,” Isaac cursed. “I know you’re not stupid, so stop acting like it. You’re new to the game, fine, but there is no need to pretend you don’t get it.”
Samuel ran his hand through his hair, knocking it from its carefully arranged queue and letting it fall around his face like a curtain. “I don’t like it.”
“But you do understand it?” Isaac asked sharply.
“Yes,” Samuel hissed. “I do. I understand that you all lie and cheat and hide behind fake smiles as you prove—what? That you’re cleverer and more powerful? That you can be crueler than the next person? That you’ll sacrifice anything and anyone? And what does it gain you?”
Isaac shrugged. “Stability. Safety. Comfort.” He reached out, pulling Samuel’s hand into his.
Samuel did, taking in the dark circles under Isaac’s eyes, the slight wrinkles in the corners of them—strange in one so young. For just a moment, he was not the Royal Blood Worker, second-in-command to the Eternal King. He was just a man, frayed to the point of near breaking.
Samuel squeezed his hand, a useless bit of comfort. Isaac clung to his fingers as if they were a lifeline, and Samuel felt a sudden fluttering in his stomach.
“Don’t pity me,” Isaac said. “I’ve got almost everything I’ve ever wanted.”