Page 124 of Esperance

“No. I just can’t do this with you.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem before.”

“I’m sorry.” And he was. Manipulating her had always been the goal, but he didn’t like hurting her.

Marriset swallowed hard. “Darrin was murdered in front of me. I wasattacked.” Her words came out a little hoarse, and her fingers tightened on the small glass. “I need comfort. I need to feel safe.”

“The high cleric has increased security. Guards are patrolling the halls—”

“I don’t want more guards.” She cut in. “I wantyou.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

A shadow passed over her face. She pulled back from him, and her eyes darted across the room to Amryn. When she looked back at Carver, her jaw was set. “We don’t always get what we want. Do we?”

She turned on her heel and strode away, headed for the nearest door. The high cleric and Chancellor Trevill both noted her quick retreat, and they glanced back at Carver. Trevill had a curious look on his face. The high cleric just looked suspicious.

Carver looked pointedly away from them, turning to find Amryn watching him.

As was often the case, he couldn’t read her expression.

“You’re done with Marriset, then?”

Carver’s grip on his glass tightened as he faced Rivard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rivard rolled his eyes, keeping his voice pitched low. “You weren’t always subtle. Rumors spread.” He lifted one shoulder. “Obviously, it was part of your investigation, so that’s all I was implying; you’ve cleared her as a danger.”

“I don’t believe she’s a rebel.”

“Since she was attacked by them,” Rivard said dryly, “I think that’s a solid conclusion.”

Carver forced himself to take an even breath. “What of your investigation?”

“It’s slow. There are a lot of clerics. But I did learn something interesting about your wife.”

His stomach lurched. He fought to keep his expression clear and his tone level. “What about her?”

“She makes frequent trips to the library, and she seems to always look at the same book:Zerrif’s Voyage.”

No, no, no . . .

Rivard continued. “The clerics I spoke to also said she often talks with a cleric named Felinus, and they seem to always meet around where that book is shelved. By all accounts, Felinus generally keeps to himself, so the other clerics thought it odd.” His gaze drifted across the room.

The back of Carver’s neck itched as he followed the man’s stare—right to Amryn, who was still talking to Jayveh.

“I admit,” Rivard said softly, “I find it odd as well. I thought you should know. I’ll talk with Felinus, and you can talk to Amryn.”

“I will.” His lungs felt too tight. “Tell me what you learn from Felinus.”

“Of course. I look forward to your report as well.” Rivard’s eyes were sharp. “Finding a connection between a reclusive cleric and one of the Empire’s Chosen is a promising lead.”

He strode away without another word, and Carver was left standing alone. Tension coiled in his shoulders, and panic curled inside him. If Rivard learned that Amryn was a rebel, he wouldn’t keep that from Argent.

Saints, Carver shouldn’t be keeping this from his friend, either.

He’d delayed too long. He needed to confront her before Rivard could expose her. He needed a chance to find outwhy. If she was being forced to help the Rising, like Jayveh, then maybe he could help her. Save her.

Or maybe he would learn that she had no desire to be saved. That she wanted to kill him, Jayveh, and Argent.