Page 37
Story: The Mask Falling
“So Domino thinks Ménard and Weaver are at odds. And they want to know why,” I said. “I don’t suppose Alsafi told you anything useful on that front?”
He considered.
“As I told you in the colony, Benoît Ménard was invited to the Bicentenary. The guest of honor,” he said. “During the event, he was to sign the Great Territorial Act—that is, the agreement that Sheol II would be founded in France.”
“Remind me why he didn’t show?”
“According to his representatives, he could not travel due to illness. Nashira was both displeased and unconvinced by his excuse. In October, she apparently lost patience and sent a Rephaite emissary to Paris for his signature and seal. The emissary disappeared without a trace.”
Interesting. “But Ménard did eventually sign?”
“Yes, in December. Luce Ménard Frère brought the signed document to England on his behalf—Alsafi confirmed this before he severed contact. Clearly Ménard could delay no longer.”
“Then we already know the source of the tension. The Great Territorial Act,” I said. “Ménard didn’t want Sheol II in his country. What we don’t know, and what Dominoneedsto know, is why.”
Without the distraction of movement, I could feel every step I had taken. A deep, relentless ache. All I wanted was to sleep, but first I needed to wash the chalk off. The thought kept me on the couch.
“Working with Domino could allow us to escalate the revolution,” Arcturus said. “Are you willing, Paige?”
“Right now, I don’t have much choice. This assignment is how I pay off my life debt, and it seems like we only have this hideout for as long as I keep working for them.” I shifted my weight off a bruise. “And there could be all manner of useful secrets in the Hôtel Garuche.”
He said nothing, but the golden cord stirred.
“What is it?” I asked. He glanced away. “Go on. If you have something on your mind.”
Some time passed before he spoke.
“I wonder if you were entirely frank with me about how far you intended to go today,” he said. “If you always meant to follow each lead to its end, even in the face of jeopardy.”
Tiredness blurred my thoughts. It took me a moment to absorb what he was saying. “You think I misled you?”
“I prefer to prepare for all potential outcomes.” He avoided the question. “To guard you to the best of my ability, I would know the conceivable extent of your plans in future.”
“I told you what I planned to do this morning.”
“Yes. You also stated that you would not do anything strenuous,” he said. “Perhaps you feared I would not support you if I knew how far you meant to go.”
“I had every intention of taking it slow,” I said coolly. “Then I adapted. You know I strike while the iron is hot.”
“Yes, Paige,” came his quiet reply. “I am well aware.”
“You might not like it, but it got rid of Senshield.” As I spoke, I braced my ribs with one hand. “Maybe the Ranthen don’t know how to adapt. Maybe that’s why you need help from humans to make any actual progress.”
“Perhaps so,” Arcturus said. “In fact, I believe we complement one another in that regard. My rigor, your inclination to play for high stakes—these make for a well-balanced alliance.”
“Fine. We’re on the same page. So what’s your problem?” When he fell silent again, I rubbed my raw eyes. “Arcturus, I’d really like to get some rest. Are you steering for a point?”
“Rest. We can speak tomorrow.”
“No.” My headache was thickening. “Just . . . say your piece.”
“As you wish.” Arcturus looked me in the face. “We were ill-prepared in the carrières. It was dangerous and unfamiliar territory that placed us both at the mercy of strangers.”
“And if we hadn’t taken the chance to go down there, we’d have no idea about the gray market being in Paris. That ignorance could have put us in danger further down the line.”
“The grands ducs could have trapped and assassinated you. Even I might not have been able to protect you from all of their followers.”
I huffed an incredulous laugh. “I’ll thank you to remember that you’ve put me in danger yourself in the past. More than once,” I said, “when it servedyourpurposes, blood-consort.” His eyes flared. “Yes, you heard me.”
He considered.
“As I told you in the colony, Benoît Ménard was invited to the Bicentenary. The guest of honor,” he said. “During the event, he was to sign the Great Territorial Act—that is, the agreement that Sheol II would be founded in France.”
“Remind me why he didn’t show?”
“According to his representatives, he could not travel due to illness. Nashira was both displeased and unconvinced by his excuse. In October, she apparently lost patience and sent a Rephaite emissary to Paris for his signature and seal. The emissary disappeared without a trace.”
Interesting. “But Ménard did eventually sign?”
“Yes, in December. Luce Ménard Frère brought the signed document to England on his behalf—Alsafi confirmed this before he severed contact. Clearly Ménard could delay no longer.”
“Then we already know the source of the tension. The Great Territorial Act,” I said. “Ménard didn’t want Sheol II in his country. What we don’t know, and what Dominoneedsto know, is why.”
Without the distraction of movement, I could feel every step I had taken. A deep, relentless ache. All I wanted was to sleep, but first I needed to wash the chalk off. The thought kept me on the couch.
“Working with Domino could allow us to escalate the revolution,” Arcturus said. “Are you willing, Paige?”
“Right now, I don’t have much choice. This assignment is how I pay off my life debt, and it seems like we only have this hideout for as long as I keep working for them.” I shifted my weight off a bruise. “And there could be all manner of useful secrets in the Hôtel Garuche.”
He said nothing, but the golden cord stirred.
“What is it?” I asked. He glanced away. “Go on. If you have something on your mind.”
Some time passed before he spoke.
“I wonder if you were entirely frank with me about how far you intended to go today,” he said. “If you always meant to follow each lead to its end, even in the face of jeopardy.”
Tiredness blurred my thoughts. It took me a moment to absorb what he was saying. “You think I misled you?”
“I prefer to prepare for all potential outcomes.” He avoided the question. “To guard you to the best of my ability, I would know the conceivable extent of your plans in future.”
“I told you what I planned to do this morning.”
“Yes. You also stated that you would not do anything strenuous,” he said. “Perhaps you feared I would not support you if I knew how far you meant to go.”
“I had every intention of taking it slow,” I said coolly. “Then I adapted. You know I strike while the iron is hot.”
“Yes, Paige,” came his quiet reply. “I am well aware.”
“You might not like it, but it got rid of Senshield.” As I spoke, I braced my ribs with one hand. “Maybe the Ranthen don’t know how to adapt. Maybe that’s why you need help from humans to make any actual progress.”
“Perhaps so,” Arcturus said. “In fact, I believe we complement one another in that regard. My rigor, your inclination to play for high stakes—these make for a well-balanced alliance.”
“Fine. We’re on the same page. So what’s your problem?” When he fell silent again, I rubbed my raw eyes. “Arcturus, I’d really like to get some rest. Are you steering for a point?”
“Rest. We can speak tomorrow.”
“No.” My headache was thickening. “Just . . . say your piece.”
“As you wish.” Arcturus looked me in the face. “We were ill-prepared in the carrières. It was dangerous and unfamiliar territory that placed us both at the mercy of strangers.”
“And if we hadn’t taken the chance to go down there, we’d have no idea about the gray market being in Paris. That ignorance could have put us in danger further down the line.”
“The grands ducs could have trapped and assassinated you. Even I might not have been able to protect you from all of their followers.”
I huffed an incredulous laugh. “I’ll thank you to remember that you’ve put me in danger yourself in the past. More than once,” I said, “when it servedyourpurposes, blood-consort.” His eyes flared. “Yes, you heard me.”
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