Page 36 of Fortress of Ambrose
“You were too trusting with the crew at Marionne,” he said. “But I realize what it got us—another piece of the Scroll.”
“I’ve inspired you.”
“Something like that.” The truth was, she had. And it hadn’t occurred to him until he saw where trusting Dexler with the truth got them. He’d been bred not to trust people, by a woman who was an expert on the topic. Suspicion was in his DNA. “I thought maybe trusting a little more could help.” Hartsboro was a nightmare he longed to forget. If this worked, he would never have to go back there.
“I know you’re hesitant about people, Yagrin. You spend most of your time alone.”
His brows dented. “How the hell do you know how I spend my time?”
“That’s how you come a-across,” she stammered. “Is what I meant.” Her eyes darted from his. “You mentioned how much you despise your House when we first met. Which means they did something to you that you can’t forgive. Trust issues come from somewhere.” She covered her tracks well, seasoning her slip with some truth. But her nerves couldn’t be covered no matter how smooth her tone. What was the heiress hiding? Something. Now he was sure. It shouldn’t surprise him. She was an heir, after all.
It didn’t matter. Only the Scroll mattered.
“We are meeting my cousin. I’ll give her instructions, and she is going to get what we need. Then to Oralia. And finally—”
“We face my brother.” The color drained from her face when she spoke of Ellery. “What do you know about your cousin? I’ve heard horrible things about your family.”
“What you’ve heard probably doesn’t hold a candle to reality. I trusted you back there with Dexler. Trust me now.”
“People only get one chance to show me who they really are. If she betrays us or fumbles this somehow, our partnership is done.”
“That won’t happen. My cousin is different.”I hope. Time with Beaulah wears on a person.He hadn’t seen his cousin since he last visited Hartsboro, before Red was killed. But he’d written insisting he needed to see herabout an urgent House matter. He left Nore there, perusing books, to go meet Adola with his heart in his throat.
He found hiscousin dressed in black, head covered with a raincoat hood. She leaned over a parted book, dark hair tied in a braid dangling over her shoulder. He joined her in the row. She sucked in a breath as he passed.
“We can’t be seen together,” she said.
He cleared his throat and pulled a book off the shelves, careful to keep his back to her.
“You—” She started, when an elder woman poked her head into the row. Her finger traced spines, and Yagrin stood there unmoving, not daring to look his cousin’s way. Adola swapped out her book for another and turned a few pages until they were alone again.
“You’re alive,” she said. There was a lilt of surprise between her words. And something else.Caution?
“It seems I’ve disappointed our aunt in that, too.”
She inhaled. Adola was always the obedient stand-in daughter to their domineering aunt. She wasn’t exactly shy, but she wasn’t outspoken either. How had she done living under Beaulah for those years after he’d left? Jordan made it sound like she’d done alright and found her confidence. But her nerves here, with him, made his heart hiccup.
Adola is trustworthy.
But she is also…an heir.
Both directions in the library were clear. Trusting her felt much less risky than showing up at Hartsboro. When he was sure they were alone, he said, “I’m glad you’re alright.”
She didn’t respond.
“Youarealright, aren’t you?”
“As much as I can be, considering.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your Trial. Or Cotillion. I don’t—”
“I know, Yags. I know. It’s alright. How’s Jordan?”
“Haven’t seen the bastard in some time.”
“I’ve heard things, Yagrin.” Her whisper shook. “Impossiblethings.”
“I wish I had better news.”
