I roll my eyes and idly tap my manacles against the breakfast table. Metal and stone rap against wood like knocking on a door. “Our talks are so fun.”
“If you prefer your room . . . ,” he warns. Another empty threat he makes every day. We both know this is better than the alternative. At least now I can pretend I’m doing something of use, and he can pretend he isn’t entirely alone in this cage he built for himself. For both of us.
It’s hard to sleep here, even with the manacles, which means I have a lot of time to think.
And plan.
Julian’s books are not only a comfort, but a tool. He’s still teaching me, even though we’re who knows how many miles apart. In his well-preserved texts, there are new lessons to be learned and utilized. The first—and most important—is divide and conquer. Maven’s already done it to me. Now I must return the favor.
“Are you even trying to hunt for Jon?”
Maven is actually startled at my question, the first mention of the newblood who used the assassination attempt to escape. As far as I know, he hasn’t been captured. Part of me is bitter. Jon escaped where I couldn’t. But at the same time, I’m glad. Jon is a weapon I want far away from Maven Calore.
After a split-second recovery, Maven returns to eating. He shoves a piece of bacon in his mouth, throwing etiquette to the wind. “You and I both know that’s not a man who is easily found.”
“But you are looking.”
“He had knowledge of an attack on his king and did nothing,” Maven states, matter-of-fact. “That’s tantamount to murder itself. For all we know, he conspired with Houses Iral, Haven, and Laris too.”
“I doubt it. If he’d helped them, they would have succeeded. Pity.”
He dutifully ignores the jab, continuing to read and eat.
I tip my head, letting my dark hair spill across one shoulder. The gray ends are spreading, leaching upward despite my healer’s best efforts. Even House Skonos cannot heal what is already dead.
“Jon saved my life.”
Blue eyes meet mine, holding firm.
“Seconds before the attack, he got my attention. He made me turn my head. Or else . . .” I run a finger along my cheekbone. Where the bullet only grazed my cheek, instead of leaving my skull a ruin. The wound healed, but not forgotten. “I must have a part to play in whatever future he sees.”
Maven focuses on my face. Not my eyes, but the place where a bullet would have obliterated my skull. “For some reason, you’re a difficult person to let die.”
For him, for the pageantry, I force a small, bitter laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“How many times have you tried to kill me?”
“Just the once.”
“And the sounder was what?” My fingers tremble at the memory. The pain of the device is still fresh in my mind. “Just part of a game?”
Another report flutters in the sunlight, landing facedown. He licks his fingers before raising the next. All business. All for show. “The sounder wasn’t designed to kill you, Mare. Just incapacitate you, if need be.” A strange look crosses his face. Almost smug, but not exactly. “I didn’t even make that thing.”
“Clearly. You’re not one for ideas. Elara, then?”
“Actually it was Cal.”
Oh. Before I can stop myself, I look down, away from him, needing a moment of my own. The sting of betrayal pricks at my insides, if only for a second. It’s no use being angry now.
“I can’t believe he didn’t tell you.” Maven presses on. “He’s usually very proud of himself. A brilliant thing too. But I don’t care for it. I had the device destroyed.” His eyes are on my face. Hungry for a reaction. I keep my expression from changing, despite the sudden skip in my heartbeat. The sounder is gone. Another small gift, another message from the ghost.
“It can easily be rebuilt, though, if you decide to stop cooperating. Cal was kind enough to leave the device plans behind when he ran off with your band of Red rats.”
“Escaped,” I mumble. Move on. Don’t let him throw you off. Feigning disinterest, I push the rest of my food around my plate. I do my best to look hurt, as Maven wants me to be, but not let myself feel it. I have to stick to the plan. Twist the conversation as I want to twist it. “You forced him away. All so you could take his place, and be exactly like him.”
Like me, Maven forces a laugh to hide how annoyed he is. “You have no idea what he would’ve been like, with the crown on his head.”