Page 78 of This Monster of Mine

“I just thought … for a moment, you seemed intrigued. He didn’t giveyouthat coin, you know. There’s no need to identify with those girls.”

“That was the furthest thing from my mind!”

Cisuré’s lips formed a thin line. “I know how you get about these things—”

“Don’t.”

“He’s not the sort of man who would have rescued you in Arsamea, and he won’t now!” At Sarai’s look, Cisuré took her hands. “Tossing money at a street rat doesn’t make him a Saint.”

“I’mhavïdwell aware of that!” She struggled to keep the anger from her voice, and Cisuré flinched. “Do you really think I’d paint him as a Saint afteronedeed? You—”

“It’s so easy for him to manipulate you. A show of righteous anger or—”

“Please, just don’t.”

“Listen, I—”

“Don’t say it,” Sarai snapped. “If you think I’m gullible, fine. But don’t announce it to the tavern.”

“You keep getting angry.” Tears welled in Cisuré’s eyes. “It’s such a destructive emotion.”

Sarai rested her head in her hands. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

“No! Just listen to me.” Cisuré sniffed. “Four years ago, seeing you … like that, you can’t imagine how hard it was for me. I could have chosen anger then, but I didn’t. And I … attended one of Tetrarch Aelius’s trials. The plaintiff was awful, accusing the Tetrarchy of all sorts of crimes. He even pulled out a blade. Kadra would have burned him alive, but Tetrarch Aelius didn’t respond to the provocation. He simply ordered him to be removed from the court. And I knew that this was a good man, asafeman. But you can’t say the same about Kadra. His legacy is blood and ugliness. You shouldn’t forget that.”

“I haven’t.” The trouble was that she didn’t care.

Perhaps she and Cisuré weren’t so different. In some small way, she did see Kadra as the embodiment of the sort of justice she’d hoped for growing up, while painfully aware that he was a powerful manipulator. Cisuré saw safety in Aelius because he was the very opposite of Marus. She stifled a groan.Gods, we’re nutcases.

“Have you found anything?” Cisuré ventured timidly.

Helvus and Jovian flashed to mind. She shook her head.

The other girl winced. “It’s been a month and a half.”

“I’m trying. Temperance and Time, I feel like I’ve aged a year since I came here.”

“You’ll be fine. You’ve always been strong.” Cisuré hugged her. “Find something to throw Kadra in the mines, and we’ll toil away at this job until we’re old and gray.”

Disquiet crept down her spine. “Do you still think he’s involved in the Petitor deaths?”

“He’s a monster.” Cisuré looked like she couldn’t believe Sarai had asked the question. “That’s what monsters do.”

After she’d left, Sarai stared at her plate, wondering if she’d fallen into an age-old trap in thinking that this monster might be different. A thousand different glimpses of him swam behind her eyes. Sardonic, yet never insulting to her. Perennially amused but rarely showing genuine humor. The deep, quiet way he spoke to her that felt almost tender.

“If only that were true,” she whispered. “If only that were true.”

A raucous laugh sounded from a nearby table as the people there rose to leave. She prepared to do the same when one of the men clapped another’s shoulders.

“Same time tomorrow, Martinus?”

“Why not?” A stocky man with an impressive beard helped himself to a wheel of cheese.

She froze.Martinus.The vigile who’d burned her records.Hairy as a northerner, the archivist had said. The man before her would be at home in Arsamea.

Without further thought, she sat at his table. “Vigile Martinus? Do you have a moment?”

“Formervigile,” he said genially, then took one look at her robes and bowed low, brushing crumbs off his tunic. “Petitor Sarai, a pleasure.”

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