Page 54 of This Monster of Mine

The fool’s probably fifteen feet below ground. Dismembered. “They didn’t recognize you.”

“Not everyone knows what their politicians look like.” A breath. “You did more than ‘nothing.’”

Her every muscle went still. “No.” She raised her eyes to his. “No, I didn’t havezostaactive, so I didn’t know that Guildsman had lied about the number of guards inside. I didn’t survey the landscape to note the glass door and interfered when you knew what you were doing. I struck that Guildsman’s shoulder when I should have gone for his neck for what he put these children through. And if it had been up to me, I may not have come here at all. I’d have waited for a fucking petition and a warrant and leteveryonehere suffer while I stuck to the formalities, because even though I carenothingfor the law, I thought I was duty bound to adhere to it.” Her voice had risen steadily until she realized she was shouting. She took a deep breath, shame coursing through her. “I didnothing.”

The irony was that she wouldn’t have thought twice about aiding anyone in Arsamea. But in the six days she’d been a Petitor, the weight of that mantle had grown. In the bazaar with everyone watching, at Cobhran Tower with Tullus eyeing her like a cut of meat, and at the Robing with Kadra waiting for her to fail. Every instinct had screamed caution. But her hesitation hadn’t helped anyone. And the man she’d condemned had.

Dark eyes roved over her face. “You came.”

She stood, squaring her shoulders. “Not for the right reasons.”

A pause. Then he bent toward her, and her pulse jumped. “Was taking measure of me the only reason you came?”

He knew.Frozen in dejected horror, she gave him the truth. “No.”

“There.” That glorious voice wrapped around her heart like a fist. “I’ve little use for perfection, Petitor Sarai. I won’t hold you to it.”

This was manipulation. He was watching her even now to gauge his effect. But by all the gods, how she foolishly wanted to believe him.

She stared at her feet. “I’m still not choosing you.”

“Of course.” Amusement back in his eyes, he returned the knife to her. “Keep it. That was a precise throw earlier.”

“Every snowgrape harvester learns to throw a knife. It was—”

“Nothing?” he finished dryly, tilting his head outside. “Come, Petitor Sarai. Adjudication awaits. We’ve a great deal more nothing to complete before noon.”

She stared at the curve of his lips, at the spray of blood across one cheekbone. And it all came together with devastating silence. The caged force in her head ceased to rattle its bars because she finallyunderstood.

Perhaps, just perhaps, it didn’t matter if he was after justice or just wanted a reason to kill. And perhaps the gods despised her more than she’d fathomed. Because the madman she’d set out to ruin was everything the most desperate, anguished parts of her had always craved.

And he was still hiding that he’d been there the night of her Fall.

CHAPTER TEN

Why was he there that night?

The question plagued Sarai over two weeks of trials as she pushed herself to the brink of exhaustion, keepingnihumbandzostaglowing on her armilla while trying to reconcile a man who seemed to viciously, violently give a shit about his Quarter with the one who’d ordered that she be given a new face. But Kadra remained terrifyingly inscrutable.

Because he simply didn’t lie.

Over two weeks, he’d removed a man’s hands for domestic violence, branded the face of a slaver who’d been mutilating young girls for sale to a pleasure house—before castrating him for good measure—and ensured that a noble scion was whipped until gouges marked his back for abusing an elderly servant. But throughout it all, he’d never used any of the white lies or embellishments that littered conversation. He sent men to Death in the blink of an eye, but a simple lie was apparently anathema.

Not that he had similar trouble reading her. Every day after court, his eyes narrowed when she packed up her things and dashed off to Aoran Tower beforenihumbcould falter. She had no doubt that his otherworldly intuition sensed that she was hiding something, but by some suspicious benevolence of the gods, he hadn’t raised the issue.

Nihumbwas also making visiting the Hall of Records impossible. Maintaining the illusion andzostathroughout hundreds of trials had her too low on magic to go at the end of the day, and archivists forbade removing sealed records for later reading. Progress on Jovian’s death and the treasonouscrime he could have committed was at a standstill while Kadra’s vigiles combed the outer edges of Edessa for Livia’s mother. All of which left her with no suspects beyond Kadra and the Metals Guild, no proof or motives for either, no way of confiding in Cisuré without her panicking, and no Tetrarch she could trust.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sarai watched Kadra pronounce that the plaintiff’s neighbor—who’d been poisoning her well—was to immediately drink several cups from it. The onlookers roared their agreement. She sighed as part of her did as well. Four years of obsessing over revenge really had blackened her soul.By Temperance, I sound like Cisuré.

She vaguely registered the screaming neighbor being force-fed bowls of poisoned water.Why were you there that night, Kadra?She’d been soldered to him long enough to glean that he didn’t act without justification. Even if he was a bloodthirsty sadist.

“Petitor Sarai?” Gaius interrupted, drawing her attention to the puddle of ink growing around the inkwell as she dipped her pen for the umpteenth time. “The verdict?”

Havïd.She printed the last line and waited for the ink to dry. “Why are we ending early?”

He cleared his throat. Despite still being stilted with her, he was less standoffish than the other vigiles. “The Tetrarchy will be meeting in six hours. Even Tetrarch Kadra needs his rest.”

She rolled up the judgment. “Has something happened?”

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