Crewel

I shake my head.

‘Whatever.’ He sets down his glass and moments later, someone steps from the shadows to refill it.

I feel my breath catch and turn away, hoping Cormac didn’t notice my reaction.

‘Will you be requiring anything else?’ Jost asks him, and I feel heat creeping into my cheeks. I’m suddenly thankful for the heavy curtains.

‘Not at the moment, but stay close just in case,’ Cormac says in a dismissive tone.

‘Happily,’ Jost murmurs, but our eyes meet as he turns and I can see he’s anything but happy. A moment later he’s faded back out of sight.

‘So you’ve been causing trouble,’ Cormac informs me as he swirls his whisky.

I focus on the soft clink of ice against the glass, and say nothing.

‘Maela has overstepped her bounds as usual,’ he continues. ‘Technically, she’s your superior, you know.’

‘Technically?’ I ask in surprise.

‘Do you think we usually let girls who try to tunnel out of their houses live?’

‘So why me?’

‘Your skills assessment at your testing was off the charts,’ he admits, setting his glass down and leaning forward.

‘Why are you the only person who tells me anything?’ I ask, shifting back in my chair.

‘Well, I know more than anyone else.’

‘But they know more than they let on,’ I press. His cologne’s heavy musk is making my head swim, and I can’t hold back the thoughts I’ve locked in since my arrival.

‘They do,’ he admits, ‘but I have so much more power. It’s easier to share little secrets when you’re in charge.’

‘And you are?’ I ask him pointedly. ‘Then why tell me? You have no more reason to trust me than they do.’

‘No, I don’t,’ he says, ‘but unlike them, I can have you killed.’

‘And I thought we were finally becoming friends.’

Cormac laughs a deep, barking cackle. ‘You are delightful. I do hope I don’t have to kill you.’

‘Finally, something we can agree on.’

He reaches out and places his warm hand on my knee. ‘You could be the most powerful girl here if you start playing your cards right.’

I shift my leg away and cross it over the other.

‘I’m here to make sure Maela doesn’t kill you,’ he says, straightening back up in his chair, ‘and you aren’t making that job easy.’

‘And if she kills me?’

‘We’ll rip her.’ There’s not a hint of sadness in his voice.

‘Does she know that?’

‘I’ve spoken with her,’ he assures me. ‘Of course, it makes her hate you more.’

‘Fabulous.’

‘You’d be wise to stop trying to piss everyone off and start worrying about yourself.’ The amusement is gone from his voice. ‘I can keep her from killing you, but until you move out of her control, you’re still at her mercy.’

‘And how do I do that?’

‘First, you start doing your job. Then you start making allies.’

‘Enora already told me to make friends.’

‘You’re going to need more than friends,’ he says. ‘Your only chance is to move past Maela’s grasp, and to do that you’ll need someone with real power here.’

‘Any suggestions?’

‘I have someone in mind.’

I feel his eyes travel back to my legs, and I straighten in my chair. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jost stiffen in the shadows.

‘Adelice, you’ll be accompanying me on a public-relations tour of Arras this weekend. Your aesthetician and stylist are fully prepped on expectations, and I assume your mentor—’

‘Enora,’ I remind him.

‘Yes, her,’ he says. ‘She’ll inform you of protocol measures.’

I swallow hard and nod.

‘See? It’s easy.’

‘May I ask you something?’

‘More polite every day.’ He raises one eyebrow, which I assume is a yes.

‘Did you find my mother?’ With the death threat hanging fresh in the air, now seems like a good time to ask.

‘Hold on.’ Cocking his head to the side to use his complant, he voice-dials a woman named Penny.

‘Can you pull the binaries on Lewys Subject Two?’

My eyes drift to Jost again, who’s stepped forward into a slant of light. He gives me a tight-lipped smile. I think he’s trying to be supportive.

‘No, I don’t have the personal identifying sequence. It was the mother.’

Subject. It. It pains me to hear my mother described this way.

‘Thanks, doll.’ Cormac turns his gaze back to me. ‘She was found during the cleaning of Romen and removed.’

‘You ripped her?’ The words are thick on my tongue, and I barely push them out.

‘Standard procedure and much more humane than how I usually deal with traitors.’

I can still feel the sticky warm blood on my dining-room floor. I know exactly how he – and the Guild – usually deals with them.

‘You,’ he calls to Jost. ‘Have Maela’s assistant pick her up.’

Jost grunts from the corner and taps the order into the small companel.

‘Adelice, one more thing.’

I stare at him, blinking hard against the tears burning up my throat.