Page 102 of Mistress of Lies

But the King just carried on. “We’ve seen enough. Come, we still have more to discuss.”

The walk back to the King’s study seemed faster, or perhaps Shan was just in a state of shock. Once they were sequestered back in the study, the King relaxing behind his desk, she focused only on the words.

On the tangled history of the five murder victims, how they had been part of a small but effective ring that had been supplying Aeravin with bodies for generations. How the Blood Taxes had never been enough, only a thin excuse to hide the truth. How a country of Blood Workers needed far more than what a populace would freely, willingly, give. How whoever this murderer was, they had found out the truth behind Aeravin’s lies and had destroyed the system from within.

“The murderer has indicated that there will be one more death,” the King said, solemnly, “but all the traffickers are accounted for. I believe that the target is Isaac de la Cruz.”

“Isaac?” Samuel said, finally breaking his silence of simmering, burning rage. “Why him?”

“Because the role of the Royal Blood Worker is far more than my secretary,” the King said, softly. “But few realize it.”

“He’s the one who does all of this, isn’t he?” Shan whispered. It made sense, the change that she had seen in him. The constant circles under his eyes, the pain and guilt that he carried, the fragile way he seemed ready to break. The Isaac she knew would have never accepted this, but once he was made Royal Blood Worker, what could he do about it?

He couldn’t deny the Eternal King, not if he valued his life at all.

“Exactly,” the King said. “I’ll be doing my best to keep him safe. I doubt that this murderer is brazen or capable enough to attack within the palace itself, but there is still a chance that he could fall. Do you understand now why you need to find this murderer quickly? Not just for the country, or for your own selfish sakes, but for the life of the man you both care so much for.”

Shan flinched, the first uncontrolled emotion she had shown in front of him, and the King smiled cruelly. “Oh, yes. I am not a fool. I have seen things, heard things. But what the three of you do is not my business, so long as you do not fail in your duties. The summer solstice is coming up, and we have plans in place.”

Shan nodded, vaguely remembering that there was a grand celebration scheduled, a new likeness of the King to be unveiled in Dameral’s central square.

“The Royal Blood Worker is going to be the one leading that ceremony,” the King continued, “and I cannot pull him from it.”

“Didn’t you just say,” Samuel began, but Shan cut him off.

“We don’t want the murderer to suspect that we know their plans.”

The King studied her. “There is hope for you, LeClaire. Yes. Precisely. So you have a week to find the killer, or you will risk your beloved de la Cruz. I hope I am making myself clear.

“Now get to work.”

The words hung heavy between them, somehow all the worse for their truth. Samuel left first, not looking at them or saying a single word, leaving her alone with the King. She wanted to stand, to flee, but her knees were weak and her heart heavy.

“I’m disappointed,” the King said, his voice soft and surprisingly tired. “I knew that wrangling Samuel would be difficult, given his foolish ideals. But I expected better from you. You’ve proven that you have the skill and mind to succeed, and yet… It seems that even the brightest of stars can fall to the simplest of weaknesses.”

Shan bit her lip, both wanting and not wanting to ask.

But the Eternal King was not so kind as to leave it at that.

“You never should have fallen for them, for either of them,” the King whispered, and when she looked up at him he only shook his head. “I had hoped that what Isaac had done to you all those years ago was lesson enough, but apparently not. If you want to succeed in Aeravin you should know better than to rely on anyone. We only betray each other in the end.”

His words cut deeper than she had expected—for years she had lived in a strange space of guilt, both hating her father for what he had done to her and desperate to please. But he had never hurt her as much as this. For all that she hated the King and the world he had created, he had seen her potential, her value, and offered to nurture it.

And here he was, offering his own kind of cruel kindness.

“This isn’t over yet,” she swore. This battle hadn’t gone at all as she had hoped, but the war was still far from over.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.” The King leaned back, studying her face. “If you fail me in this, you’ll still have your life. Your position. As will Samuel. I haven’t got this far by wasting potential. But your brother will be dead and perhaps you will finally learn. Your attachments only hold you down.”

He glanced past her, and she knew what he was looking at. The portrait of his long dead wife, hanging in a place of honor. She wanted to know what had happened there—what had driven him to denounce attachments when he had once clung to them as strongly as anyone else.

But it didn’t matter. Understanding him might be interesting, but it wouldn’t get her out of this bind. Only she could do that.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Shan

Shan found Samuel outside the palace, standing amongst the rose bushes, looking utterly and totally alone. She studied him for a moment, remembering the King’s warning—that she had brought her failures upon herself, a product of her own attachments and love. And though his threats still hung over her, a weight that she could not shake, as thick and ominous as a storm on a summer’s day, she refused to let him dictate her life.

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