Page 103 of Mistress of Lies

She reached out, taking Samuel’s hand in hers, and led him to her carriage. Just having him near soothed some of the tension away, calming the panic in her mind and lifting the darkness over her soul, leaving her free to plot and plan. He had slipped into her life so easily—too easily. It had only been a few months, but he already belonged with her, and that scared her almost as much as the Eternal King’s truths and threats.

But she couldn’t think of that now.

Instead, she took him home, not hesitating when he invited her in for a pot of tea. He led her into his parlor, though it still felt a little unlived in, sterile and precise and far too formal for Samuel. But a maid brought them tea and refreshments, and they sat in comfortable silence as she turned everything over in her mind.

A murderer’s head and peace in the kingdom. That was what she had to deliver to save her brother—and Samuel—from the harm she had put them in. They never would have attracted the King’s attention if it wasn’t for her. But she had interfered, setting the game into motion.

It was her responsibility to fix it.

Even if it meant turning her brother in for crimes she never thought he could commit. It would destroy what little goodness was left in her, but if Anton was the murderer she’d put him down like the rabid dog he’d become.

Samuel shifted in his seat, his arms wrapped tight around himself, and for a second she wondered if… no. That plan, the great, grand scheme of hers, was still too far out with too many pieces yet to slide into place. But given the horrors they had just witnessed together, perhaps she could reach Samuel in a way she never could before.

He noticed her watching him, and they sat there for a long moment, Shan’s heart pounding as something in the air sparked between them.

“What are we doing, Shan?” he whispered, his voice as soft as a caress, and she fought the urge to lean closer. “I’ve given up everything that I am, become this farce of a man, and for what? I thought I knew how bad things were, but…” He closed his eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t,” she said, fighting back the images of the poor souls strapped to those metal tables, slowly and painfully bleeding to death. “I should have.” Samuel cocked his head to the side, his gaze sharp, and for once Shan didn’t let herself hide behind her lies. “I never questioned the blood. How whenever we needed it—for our magic, our healing, our training—we could simply requisition it. How even with the Blood Taxes, it shouldn’t have been enough.”

Their magic, great and powerful as it was, came with a terrible price. And she had ignored it, because she could, because she never had to pay it.

What a fool it made her.

Samuel slid closer, tangling their hands together. “I don’t blame you for that. But you promised me that we would change things.” That low fire was back in his voice, that passion and rage that had her turning towards him like a flower towards the sun. “I don’t see how we can stop this.”

Shan took a deep breath, the secrets heavy on her tongue. But they must be said. “There is a way,” she admitted, pressing against his side, their tenuous connection the only thing grounding her.

“What way?” His pale hands flexed in his lap, the skin around his nails picked and bitten at. He couldn’t stop worrying his bottom lip, turning it red and raw.

This was the chance she had been yearning for, handed to her on a silver platter. And yet she hesitated, not quite able to say it. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Figured what out?”

“Nature abhors a vacuum,” Shan said. “For the longest time I wondered how far my little schemes could go. I knew what I wanted but without a proper structure in place all I would create was chaos. And as much as I’d like to watch Aeravin burn at times, the collateral damage would be too much.”

She breathed out slowly, carefully, watching the minute changes as the reality of her plan washed over him. “Then I found you. You were the answer to everything—a hope that I could bring about a smooth transition and create a new Aeravin. One that wasn’t led by a man who lost touch with his humanity centuries ago.”

“And you think that man is me?” Samuel asked, carefully. He was clearly confused, but he was considering it, and Shan knew that was the first and most difficult step.

Now if she could only get past his morals—or hone them into a blade that she could use.

“I know nothing of politics,” Samuel continued, “or bureaucracy, or how to keep a nation running.”

“You know what’s wrong,” Shan said. “You know what the problems are, and you would care for all the citizens, not just the elite.” She ran her hand along his arm, feeling him warm under her touch though there were still two layers of clothing between them. “And that’s more than we have now.”

He shook his head, but he didn’t push her away. If anything, he leaned into her touch, craving a closeness she wanted nothing more than to give. Even though it was wrong, so terribly wrong, and she knew that she shouldn’t be using this thing between them to pull him to her side, to tie him up in knots until he didn’t know up from down. Until he had no choice but to follow her because there was no other option left.

But in all truth she craved this as much as he did, even if it meant it would leave her as entangled as she left him.

“It isn’t right,” he whispered, his hand coming over hers and removing it from his body. The touch was brief, perfunctory, but it still made her want things she didn’t dare name.

“What isn’t?” Had she pushed too far, been too brazen? They had only just learned the most gruesome, terrible truth of their nation after all.

“For me to be King,” he said. “For anyone to be King, actually.”

She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. Perhaps she ought to give him a pen and send him off to write pamphlets. “Of course you’re a bleeding democrat.”

“Is that a problem?” Samuel bit out. “Forgive me for not being greedy enough to fit into your plans.”

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