Page 127 of A Trial of Fate

Zola, who served as spymaster for Silver Meadows, was just as mysterious as her job title. Castor’s description of her was brief, but from what I could infer, she was different from any other High Fae alive. Zola was born a citizen of Crimson City, but the wilt had changed her. She was a member of the scouting party that Castor and Daxton’s mom led, but Cas wouldn’t say much more. He told me that I would have to ask Zola when I met her. He did tell me that Daxton helped save her life, and since that day, he had her loyalty.

“We shall now work on the art of deception, Skylar,” Castor announced.

“Oh, joy,” I said with a heavy dose of sarcasm that I knew Castor heard but decided to overlook.

“That’s the spirit.” He grinned. “Now, why the long face? I’m going to teach you one of the most valuable lessons there is. You may not master this, but you will learn enough to keep that pretty little head on your shoulders.”

“Pretty little head… Did you just give me a compliment that wasn’t drenched in an inappropriate sexual undertone?”

Castor rolled his eyes, ignoring my comment entirely. “Pay attention.”

The seriousness in his expression told me that this was not the time or place for games. I groaned, but I knew he was right. “All right, let’s begin.”

“Now, males and females naturally deceive one another by omitting information, denying the truth, or exaggerating details. Or they might agree with others when they don’t in order to preserve a relationship or try to gain the favor of one. Self-serving lies, on the other hand, help us get what we want, make us look better, and can spare us blame or embarrassment.”

Okay, Castor really had a knack for this. Now, I understood why Dax was insistent that I study this with him. Even if I picked up on half of what he was trying to teach me, it would help. I was good at reading true intentions, but I was also naive when it came to lies and deception.

“Now, when you are trying to conceal the truth, the best thing to do is base your story on simple facts.”

“Like how, exactly?” I asked.

Castor leaned back in his seat with his elbows resting on the armrests and laced his fingers in front of his pinched mouth. His dark eyes glimmered with anticipation and perhaps a twinge of excitement. This was clearly his playing field of expertise. “I’ll give you a firsthand example of how deception can be used to your advantage. Ask me a question, any question, Skylar.”

An open-ended question with no barriers. Was it my birthday or something?

“All right.” I leaned forward and met his stare, but I was panicking and didn’t necessarily know what to ask. So I thought of the first thing that popped into my head. “What is your favorite breakfast?”

“I give you a blank canvas, andthatis what you ask me?” I nodded, and he sighed heavily. “Of course, a meal is the first thing on your shifter’s mind. I assume it is a good place to start. Very well.” He unlaced his hands and relaxed his shoulders. “My favorite breakfast meal is an egg cooked over toast. But not the traditional slop that is planted on top, with the yolk running along the plate. I enjoy it the way my mother made it for me and Dax each day when I was younger.”

“Your mother cooked for you each morning? That’s endearing,” I answered, thinking about what young Castor and Daxton were like.

“Yes, she did. Don’t all mothers care for their children and devote the morning to making sure they have the best chance to begin their day? What did your mother do for you?”

“Well, I didn’t have my birth mother with me, but Julia taught me how to cook for myself. I loved sharing that time with her in the kitchen. We would spend hours together making meals for the family. Neera would always bring us fresh ingredients from the garden, and Magnus happily devoured each creation I managed to put together. Even if some of them weren’t the best, he always ate them with a smile. We… Hey!” I exclaimed.

That grin on his face was met with my narrowed eyes. He had asked me one thing, and somehow, I had trailed off on a tangent. I hadn’t even realized I was doing it!

Castor bowed his head and flung his arms out to the side. Humility was not on his list of characteristics. “And now, I have learned vital information about you… while presenting you with a lie.”

“Okay, now I have to admit,thatwas impressive,” I said while still glaring at him. “So, where was your lie?”

“My mother did cook me and Dax eggs on toast on the rare occasion, but we employed help in our palace. I falsified my own upbringing and then asked you about yours. A key lesson is that regardless of who you are talking to, they always want to talk about themselves. And fae are known to have a crippling vanity streak.”

“So, how did the lie help?”

“I learned that Julia was not your birth mother, and if I ever needed to gain your favor, I could use that treasured experience of cooking with her to manipulate you. I could ask you to join me in the kitchen, and we create something together, later gaining your trust and allowing you to reveal even more than you already divulged.” Thatwas a complete mind-fuck. My mouth practically fell open and onto the floor. Did all fae think ten steps ahead, or was this just a special Castor trait?

“Now, let’s try again.”

Castor and I spent the next hour practicing how to manipulate conversations and how I would respond to questions about my past or anything I knew. I focused on simple key elements that were true but spun them in a different direction so I didn’t give anything away. This was a new way of viewing the world for me because I was raised with honesty as a virtue.

“Think of this like armor—but for your mind,” Castor instructed me. “You will get better at it the more you practice, and I’ll make sure your mind stays sharp.”

The door handle turned, and Dax stepped inside. My heart fluttered inside my chest as he entered, despite my best intentions. He tilted his head at us both in a silent greeting as he closed the door behind him. His presence consumed the room, isolating the attention of every freaking fiber of my being, making me lose focus and almost miss Castor’s closing statements.

“Do you suggest I do this all the time?” I asked, trying to divert my gaze from where Daxton waited. “Because that would be exhausting, and I would never feel right in myself.”

I wanted to be me. These mind games were not appealing, and if I was going to compete in the trials, I knew I needed to be true to myself.

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