Page 118 of A Crown of Lies

“Does it matter?”

Aryn sighed and turned away to adjust his collar in the mirror. “I suppose not. Ruith, I didn’t tell you Niro is Isheda’s bastard because I didn’t want it to color your opinion of him. He’s a good pick. His voting record aligns with what we want. He’s well liked, young enough to serve several terms still, attractive, and easy to work with. What else could you possibly ask for?”

When he turned back, he found Ruith staring at him with his jaw hanging open in shock.

“What?” Aryn growled. “What is it now?”

Ruith looked away and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Gods above, Aryn. I meant the fucking carriage ride! I came in here to yell at you about having to pay for your sexcapades and you drop that?”

Shit. Fuck. Dammit, what do I do now?Aryn ground his teeth as Ruith sank to sit cross-legged on the floor. “You didn’t know.”

“Why would I know? You told me there was no dirt, and I believed you! What reason would I ever have to question that? Gods above and below, you really did lie to me! About something important!” He rubbed his face. “And now I’ve thrown my clan behind him, and Brucia. Fuck. At least tell me he and Saya aren’t closely related.”

Aryn was quiet for a moment.Might as well put it all out there, then.“They’re half siblings.”

“Oh. Half siblings. Wonderful,” Ruith said, throwing up his hands. “So now not only am I backing an ineligible bastard for the highest office in the land, but an elf who married his sister! And he’s running for office with his own father as his second!”

“Half sister,” Aryn corrected. “They don’t actually share any blood.”

“They’re both Runecleavers!” Ruith exploded, rising to pace.

“So?” Aryn shrugged. “And keep your voice down. It’s a non-issue if nobody knows.”

Ruith spun and grabbed Aryn by the collar, rage blazing in his eyes. “I am about to walk into the Runecleaver stronghold to break bread with their matriarch, the elf who set up their match, and you tell me thisnow?”

Aryn snorted and rolled his eyes. “Do you really believe Vinolia Runecleaver isn’t aware already? Do you think she cares? Ruith, the bitch wanted to breed Kat with his own twin sister like a pair of prize racehorses! She’s obsessed with breeding more and more powerful mages, no matter their relation. If anything, she’ll be glad to see two powerful Runecleavers holding office.”

Ruith ignored him, rubbing his temples. “Gods above, how am I ever supposed to look at him again, knowing he’s fucking his sister?”

“Half sister,” Aryn corrected again, “and if it’s any consolation, I don’t think they do much fucking. At least not exclusively. Saya prefers women, by all accounts, and Niro propositioned me at a party once already.”

Ruith’s head shot up. He pointed aggressively at Aryn, teeth bared. “You are not allowed to fuck my candidate for Primarch!”

“I didn’t!” Aryn said, probably too defensively to be believable, even if it was true. He cleared his throat. “And I don’t plan to. I don’t even know if he knows I know it was him. Everyone was in masks.”

Ruith sighed and went back to massaging his temples. “I have been smack in the middle of this mess the whole time and I didn’t even know it. How could you let this happen, Aryn? I trusted you.”

Aryn’s stomach sank into his toes and the cold fingers of guilt coiled around his spine. He sighed and crossed his arms. “You trust me to make good judgement calls, Ruith. To sort through a vast sea of information to determine what you should and should not know. That is my job. It’s what I have always done for you, and will continue to do so long as you need me to do it. Sometimes, I choose not to tell you things to protect you from others. Other times, I make that choice because I have to protect you from yourself. I knew once you heard the truth, you would resist putting your support behind Niro, but he is the best option, regardless of his parentage.”

“I don’t know,” Ruith said. “I just don’t know.”

Aryn gripped Ruith’s shoulder. “You’re the one who is always saying people should be judged by their deeds, not their birth. Give him a chance to do that, Ruith.”

Ruith frowned down at Aryn. “It feels suspiciously like nepotism. If this breaks…”

“I will not let it break.” Aryn squeezed Ruith’s shoulder. “You’re going to go to this Runecleaver dinner, and you’re going to act as if nothing has changed, because it hasn’t. Isheda is still the elf he was thirty minutes ago. Niro’s voting record is still the same. Nothing has changed, Ruith. You’ve only been made aware of something that already happened years ago and cannot be undone. All you can do is play along, so I ask you to do that. Play your part. Let us finish here and go back to Brucia, where we belong.”

Ruith closed his eyes and let out a long breath. “You’re right,” he said, bobbing his head. “Of course you’re right. I’m sorry to have doubted you.”

Aryn patted Ruith’s shoulder and turned his back to finish adjusting his collar in the mirror. “We all make mistakes.”

“I’m still not paying for your carriage ride,” Ruith muttered. “You want to fuck Mercia in a carriage? You have to pay for it. That doesn’t count as a work expense.”

“Fine,” Aryn grumbled.

There was a knock on the door, and Mercia leaned in. “Ready?”

Aryn’s jaw nearly fell open at the sight of her. She’d opted not to wear the restrictive traditional dress of elven women, and instead to wear somethinghuman. The dress was crimson silk with a floral pattern running up one side. While the neckline was low—far lower than what most elves would be used to, she’d found a silk scarf to wrap around her neck which made it look practically regal. With the dark shawl over her shoulders and her hair pinned up with one of Emmanthe’s jade combs…

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