Heartless Hunter (Crimson Moth, #1) (15)
As the blood dried and the spell solidified, Verity pushed her spectacles further up her nose. Rune couldn’t help but notice the shadows under her friend’s eyes. Likely from too many late nights helping the Crimson Moth, then staying up until morning to finish her biology homework.
Verity was a scholarship student at the university in the capital.
“We’ve been trying to find the new holding location for weeks and have nothing to show for it,” Verity pointed out. “What makes you think tonight will be any different?”
“Because it has to be?” said Rune, desperate.
Pushing herself onto the desk, Verity seated herself next to the spell book, and her lavender perfume invaded Rune’s senses. Floral scents were in fashion these days, and the one Verity doused herself in had been a gift from her sisters.
“Rubbing elbows with patriots and witch hunters worked a year ago,” said Verity. “But the Blood Guard have gotten smarter. If we want to rescue Seraphine in time—if the Crimson Moth intends to stay one step ahead of the witch hunters—we’ll need a better tactic. Have you given any more thought to my idea?”
“The one where I say goodbye to my freedom by marrying some smug suitor?”
Verity rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. You say goodbye to running yourself ragged by strategically marrying someone who will unwittingly help you save witches.” She started casually turning the thin pages of the book, absently skimming through the spells. “Did you see Charlotte Gong tonight? She was wearing a gold ring on a chain around her neck.”
“So?” said Rune, setting the enchanted cup down now that the bloody spellmark on the bottom was dry. No one ever thought to check the bottom of their beverage for evidence of magic. Especially not in a witch hater’s house.
“So: she’s engaged. To Elias Creed.” Elias was Laila and Noah’s eldest brother. “He works for the Ministry of Public Safety. I put him at the top of your list of suitors, remember?”
“Pity,” said Rune, without a hint of disappointment. She was happy for Charlotte, who had a sweet temperament and once told her the witch purgings gave her a stomachache.
“Pity indeed. Elias would have been perfect for you. Boring. Not too intelligent. Close to a source of valuable intel. Soon all the good ones will be taken, and you’ll be out of options.”
“Perhaps you could marry instead and give me all the intel you extract.”
Verity gave a small smile. “I would if I could. But no one useful wants the poor little charity case.”
This was, unfortunately, true.
Verity’s mother had hated witches so deeply, she’d outed her eldest daughters to the Blood Guard, resulting in their deaths. Because of this, Verity had cut all ties with her parents, and in doing so, cut herself off from their monetary support. Rune suspected the story was even darker than her friend let on, from the way Verity went icy quiet when people brought it up, her eyes blackening like thunderclouds.
Verity’s position at the university was now dependent on scholarships. Scholarships she could keep only if she attained top grades. Otherwise, she’d be stripped of her room and board and forced out onto the street.
Rising from the desk, Rune crossed to the window of the an nex and looked out. Her grandmother’s garden labyrinth sprawled out below, illuminated by the waxing moon. The sea was a black mirror in the distance.
She didn’t feel ready to marry. It wasn’t a matter of not being in love with any of her suitors; Rune had never expected love. In fact, in her grandmother’s absence, sometimes Rune felt half-alive. Like her heart was a withered thing in her chest.
Rune was no longer capable of love, nor did she need it. What she needed was to make the most strategic choice.
It was more the finality of yoking herself to someone for the rest of her life that made her balk, especially when that someone could never know who she really was.
But Verity’s right: it’s time.
For a plan like this to be most effective, the person would have to be someone with intimate knowledge of the Blood Guard’s secrets. Maybe she was being too picky, but when Rune looked at the list of suitors Verity had drawn up for her, when she considered the ones who were the most well connected, she suspected she could do better.
That she must do better.
Like there was a name missing from her list.
“Noah Creed is a good choice. They say his father is grooming him to become the next Good Commander. But he’s clever,” said Verity, still skimming the spells in the book on Rune’s desk. “Bartholomew Wentholt is a better option. He’s not that bright, and his mother is a celebrated witch hunter.”
“Bart is obsessed with himself,” said Rune, still staring out the window.
“Yes, but that could benefit you. He can’t pay much attention to your comings and goings if he’s checking his reflection every ten minutes.”
Rune sighed and walked back to the desk, where Verity had the book open to two spells Rune had been trying to master for weeks now: Deadbolt and Picklock. They were for locking and unlocking cell doors.
“Fine,” said Rune, pressing her fists to her hips. “Here’s the plan. I’ll woo Bart. Invite him to my room. Ply him with wine.” She glanced at the cup, now enchanted with Truth Teller. “If the information he gives me is valuable, I’ll choose him. If not, I’ll try again with Noah.”