Total pages in book: 222
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
REDBERRY 12
Avaria stared at me across the desk of my study. The sky was overcast today and in the diffuse light she looked like a stylized fantasy painting: lean, mean, dressed in gray jerkin and pants, wearing a complicated leather belt with way too many knives hanging from it. The kind of woman that would kick you in the throat, stab you twice, and then knee you in your face as you fell down. The hostility rolled from her in waves.
Unfortunately for her, I’d had a very long night and was suffering a pounding headache, and I was too tired to be intimidated.
“You have a problem with me,” I told her.
She gave me a derisive look and cocked one artfully shaped eyebrow. “Whatever do you mean, my lady?”
“I mean that I’m a woman who showed up out of nowhere. You don’t trust me farther than you can throw me. You’re strong, but that still wouldn’t be very far.”
“Oh I don’t know. If I was properly motivated . . .”
“When I first contacted Solentine, he likely expressed doubts about me. You’re a cautious woman, who is suspicious by nature. That paranoia has kept you alive so far.”
“Don’t talk like you know me.”
“You try to solve Solentine’s problems. I was a problem, and because of Everard he couldn’t remove me directly. He might have shared that frustration. You’re not fond of Everard either. You think that the Sleepless Duke is too dangerous to have as an ally so if Solentine and Everard went their separate ways, you’d likely open a bottle of wine to celebrate.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Bearing all of that in mind, you decided that it would be very convenient if something untoward happened to me through no fault of Solentine’s. You know, like the Butcher grabbing me off the street and then cutting off my fingers, shattering my kneecaps, carving up my liver, and so on.”
“You seem whole to me,” she said.
“Magic can do wonderful things.” I wiggled my fingers back at her. “They work like new. No stumps.”
Her eyes widened slightly.
“Then I became Solentine’s cousin. He told you to keep me safe, but he likely did not explain why. He probably said something like, ‘Assist her in all things. She is family, so if she tells you to do something, treat it as if it came from me.’”
Avaria’s mouth tightened. Yep. That was exactly what he’d said.
“Except that you don’t think I’m family. For no obvious reason, Solentine is giving me access to secret matters I have no right to be a part of and he is putting the Shears at my disposal. You view me as a threat. You can’t disobey Solentine directly, so instead you chose the path of quiet sabotage. You allowed a team of killers to enter the house. You took me to the Guard station and then recalled the carriage. You’ve dragged your feet uncovering the identity of the Butcher. You instructed the driver to leave us stranded in the Tangle.”
She smiled at me. “You do like the sound of your own voice.”
“Vasilianus would be proud, Despina. That’s a page right out of his book. He always preferred subtlety over direct violence.”
The dagger was in her hand so fast, it practically leaped into her fingers. One moment she was standing, the next she crouched on my desk, the dagger against my neck.
“Dramatic, but unnecessary,” I told her.
“How do you know?” she snarled.
“The same way I know a lot of things. Your name is Despina Lustina Rasteros. You were sold by your family to the Obsidian Veil at the age of seven and trained as a whisper. Your three masters were Kronia, Vasilianus, and Lakeros, and you preferred Kronia over the other two, because direct combat comes naturally to you. Also, your alchemy work is sloppy, and you kept poisoning yourself in Lakeros’s laboratory, so you fantasized about stabbing . . .”
She held her left hand up. “Stop.”
I gently nudged the dagger away from my throat with my index finger.
“Does Solentine know?” she asked.
“That you were sent here as a Crimson Empire spy and then defected? Yes. He figured it out years ago.”
“How?”
“You put milk in your tea. You’re supposed to be the daughter of a shoemaker from the Middle Fields. The Rellasians from that region drink their tea with honey and jam. You have to go all the way east, toward the border, before you start seeing milk served with tea.”
She sat cross-legged on my desk. “That’s all?”
I nodded. “He is sharp. He doesn’t need much. You trust him, and eventually you gave yourself away with little things. Too much nuance in understanding politics. Too much knowledge about the weakness of legionnaire armor. He accepts you as you are. He knows you will not betray him.”
“It was a horrible life,” she said.
“I know. I mean, I really do know, Avaria. The Hole, the killing of Sominia, and so on.”