Page 14 of A Promise of Lies (Shadows of the Tenebris Court #3)

13

Kat

T he chill sickness of iron jangled through me with every step. In the couple of days since my fake argument with Ella, I had spent every moment possible practising and now I could pick the tiny, fiddly lock on the bracelet. I’d been doing just that when Amandine had arrived with a summons to Cyrus’s office.

It had taken every deceptive bone in my body to smile and nod as I hid my wrist. I’d managed to click it back into place as the door to my suite closed, disguising the sound.

But after just a few minutes without the bracelet, the side-effects of iron hit me afresh, mingling with the question of what Cyrus might want with me.

The day of the fight, he’d sent Elthea to check if I had any injuries. She’d told me he understood humans were “fragile.”

Since our encounter in the gardens, I’d worked every day to make myself as pretty as possible. Hair oil, delicate perfume, subtle make-up. I’d chosen clothing that made my light tan skin look pale. He liked weak, and I made myself look as fragile as I could.

We arrived at the door to his personal office, not the official one that had been his father’s. My stomach bubbled with iron and anxiety.

Please don’t be sick.

Adra gave a perfunctory smile and cut Amandine off. “You can wait there.” She gestured at an alcove near her desk before showing me into Cyrus’s office as I held my breath.

I needn’t have bothered—he wasn’t there.

“His Majesty will be with us shortly.” Another efficient gesture towards a plush chair.

She intended to wait with me. Which didn’t really work with my plans. I couldn’t let a chance to snoop around Cyrus’s office go to waste.

So I smiled broadly and instead of heading towards the chair, I approached her. “Thank you so much , Adra. I truly appreciate your attentiveness and everything you do to keep Dawn running so smoothly.” I reached out and squeezed her shoulder, and at once she wrinkled her nose and shuddered out of reach.

Her wide eyes settled on my hand and trailed to the source of her disgust. The iron bracelet.

My smile remained cemented in place.

Ashen, she cleared her throat and backed away. “I think I’ll wait outside.” The door slammed after her.

At least this bracelet was good for something.

I wasted no time celebrating, though, and made straight for the desk. It seemed the most likely place here for Cyrus to store private information. At least until I had access to his bedroom. Rifling through the top drawer, I wrinkled my nose at the thought.

Pens and ink. Sheets of paper and sticks of wax. Nothing of interest, though for a moment I considered stealing a small pair of scissors and hiding them under my clothing. Fae-worked scissors would kill a fae as surely as a dagger, right? But I couldn’t afford to be found with something that suggested I was anything but captivated by Cyrus and glad to be in his court.

The next drawer revealed screwed up pieces of paper, which I unfolded. Sketches… of himself… on a plinth. Designs for a statue? I rolled my eyes and continued searching.

At first, I thought the bottom drawer was empty, but when I groped inside, I found a folded letter caught in the joints.

Interesting. I didn’t have Cyrus down as the sentimental, letter-keeping type. Though perhaps this one had been missed when he pulled other papers out to throw away.

It was the kind delivered by a messenger—no address on the outside. The seal had broken off, leaving crumbs of white wax. It was written in an elegant, sparse hand.

Dearest Cyrus,

I regret that we can’t meet quite yet. There are those at court who wish me ill, so I cannot reveal myself to you until circumstances change. Though I would certainly feel safer with you on the throne. You’re so clever, I know you’ll understand.

Just as I understand your frustrations with your father. Many criticise him as too friendly with Dusk. But you’re right—it’s your duty to act against any enemy.

However, you’re focusing on the wrong people. If you turn your sights closer to home, you’ll have the power to do whatever you wish… and you won’t have to wait an immortal lifetime to do so.

After all, he was once Her Majesty’s ally in the wars of succession—can he really be trusted to do what’s best for Dawn alone?

Yours ever watchfully.

I blinked at the letter. I read it again.

Was this person hinting…?

I took a deep breath and gave it one more read.

Cyrus had killed his father… but somebody else had given him the idea?

I swallowed and found myself looking for someone to show this to, for someone to ask if they saw the same things I did. Ella or Bastian would read it with level heads. I still felt half sick from the iron bracelet and didn’t trust myself.

But I was the only one here. The only one left to trust.

Assuming I was right, then, what else could I learn from this letter? It was unsigned, so I checked the outside once more. No watermarks or other distinctive markings on the paper. Not even a partial seal, just the remnants of white wax.

A strange thing to commit to writing—encouragement to kill a king. Then again, it sounded like the writer hadn’t met Cyrus, and the letter, frustratingly, contained nothing to led back to them.

Though it read as though this wasn’t their first message. There had to be more.

Just as I bent to feel at the back of the drawer, voices filtered from outside, one deeper. Cyrus.

I cursed the rustling paper as I refolded the letter and shoved it back in place, but I could’ve fallen to my knees and kissed the rug as it muffled the sound of me running towards my chair.

Too late. I spun on my heel just as the door opened.

I gasped, not entirely faking it, and he eyed me, then the seat Adra had offered. “Is the chair not to Lady Katherine’s taste?”

My throat wouldn’t cooperate and even I could see my hand tremble. I needed to gain control of this situation and of myself. He couldn’t find out I’d been rummaging through his desk or all this work would be for nothing.

Perhaps a grain of truth would help sell my lie.

Shaking my head, I visibly gathered myself. “Your Majesty, it’s not the chair that’s the problem but me . I was just so…” I fanned myself with my hand as if searching for the right word. “Well, it’s not every day you’re summoned to a king’s private study.” My voice lowered on the word “private” and I intensified my look.

It was only a moment, chest heaving as I watched him watching me, but it felt like a decade, having cast the dice and waiting to see how they would fall in this dangerous game.

“Hmm.” His mouth curved as he approached. “This is the effect I have on you?”

Eyes widening, I took a small step back as though half afraid of him. The curve deepened. I lifted my chin and swallowed slowly so he could see. “Your Majesty wished to see me?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes. I wanted to check how you were feeling now you’re rid of that…” He flicked his fingers as though getting rid of a fly. “Undesirable magical affliction.”

“Your Majesty is too kind. Truly, it’s a relief. Such magic is too powerful for an untrained human—I was always so afraid I’d accidentally unleash it.” It had been true, once, and I put myself back there, afraid of what I might do. I thought of Kaliban’s encouragement and sarcasm-edged patience, of how he hadn’t given up on me. And I cursed the fact I couldn’t visit him. How was he? Did he have food? Company whose thoughts weren’t too loud?

Did he think I’d abandoned him?

My eyes stung as I looked up at Cyrus. “It’s more curse than gift.” Oh, the irony of saying that as a lie, when once I’d truly felt that way.

A small frown etched between his eyebrows as the slightest pink tinted his cheeks. “It is, isn’t it? You poor little thing.” He came closer, as if transfixed by my vulnerability, but jolted to a stop, gaze catching on my wrist. “And the bracelet is working? No ill effects?”

“It blocks the magic. And it makes me feel a little sick and weak at times, but it’s a small price to pay for peace of mind, isn’t it? I’m sure you know best.”

At that last part, he straightened like I’d paid him the greatest compliment.

He liked me not only weak, but submissive, and I couldn’t help but think of Bastian in that moment, though I hated myself for making any comparison between them. Bastian may not like it when we argued, but he liked my fire and strength. He only enjoyed it when I submitted in the bedroom, which I could understand—control was his version of safety.

Cyrus, though? I could see it from beneath my lashes—he wanted to feel strong and powerful. A god playing with ants.

I bowed my head and curled in on myself, then glanced back up to confirm.

Sure enough, his head rose and that subtle flush of his cheeks intensified as his pupils blew wide with pleasure.

The weaker I was, the stronger he felt.

He might not find me the prettiest or the most attractive—I was no match for fae beauty—but he loved how fragile I seemed.

If that was what it took to lure in a monster, so be it.

His eyelids fluttered as though he remembered himself, and he rubbed his hands together as he approached the desk. “I’m so glad you think so. As long as the bracelet is effective in the long term, that’s all I wanted.”

Damn. Dismissed so soon? This was the most time I’d had alone with him since coming up with my plan.

“If I may add…?” I tilted my head in question and waited for him to turn back to me. “Thank you for sending Elthea to check on me personally the other day.” I looked away as though embarrassed, but I felt his attention sharpen on me now he was reminded of that moment he’d enjoyed so much.

“The fight. Mm, yes.” He stalked closer, backing me against the wall.

My skin crawled and every instinct shrieked at me to look up and run away, but I squashed down the urge. Let him think he was the hunter and I was some poor, unsuspecting prey.

He only stopped once his toes were almost touching mine. For a second, I was back with unCavendish, and the ghost of his hand threaded through my hair. But there was no yank, and no part of me was so desperate for touch that it wanted any attention, even bad.

So, instead of freezing, I counted out three seconds as my chest heaved as though I was overcome by his nearness. Only then did I look up.

This prick had forced me away from my friends, my love, my home, yet I managed to moisten my lips and give him an inviting smile. Because unlike my encounters with unCavendish, I was in control of this situation and using it to my advantage. I wasn’t the one being used but the one doing the using.

He leant closer, arm against the wall, bracketing me. “And how are you after your argument with the Serpent and his new human?” His voice dropped to something more intimate—one person speaking to another, rather than a king to a subject. “You weren’t wounded, were you?”

I snorted softly. “Just my pride.” Then I looked away, as though struggling to joke about the topic because of the great hurt lying beneath.

“What is it? Tell me.” It wasn’t quite an order.

I swallowed. Time to confide in him the lie I’d hinted at before. If it worked, it just might be the last thing I needed to get him to believe I had well and truly severed all ties to Bastian.

“I… feel so different now I’ve been away from him a while. I think he might have been using charm on me. He once said I was susceptible…”

“Oh.” The sound came out of him laced with a laugh. “The great Bastian Marwood had to charm you.” Out the corner of my eye, I could see him wrestling with a grin. He cleared his throat, apparently winning the battle, and went on more softly, “He must have—it’s the only thing that makes sense—and now you’re wearing iron, he can no longer do so. He was holding you back, and I’ve set you free.”

Holding my breath was the only way to avoid laughing. He was really painting himself as my hero. Good fucking gods.

If stroking his ego would help me get close to him, then so be it.

I touched the bracelet, then blinked up at him. “You saved me.”

I could actually see him puffing up. Any further and he’d explode. The smug pride was insufferable, and I was this close to choking on laughter. Just a little longer—I could burst once I was alone.

Slowly, his eyes narrowed and the smug smirk grew devious. My insides fluttered, caught between victory at capturing his attention so closely and dread at whatever was going on behind that cruel smile.

A rap sounded at the door. “Your Majesty is meeting with the Convocation in ten minutes,” Adra called through.

Cyrus made a thoughtful sound. “This is to be continued.” He pushed away from the wall, opening up my path to the exit.

I made a show of gathering myself and smoothing my dress before setting off.

My fingers closed around the door handle, when his voice reached me. “Oh, and Katherine?”

Putting a coy smile in place, I stopped and turned.

“Remember, curiosity killed the cat.”

The dread inside me won, cold and heavy like lead. A warning. Much as he enjoyed my show of weakness, he hadn’t entirely believed my excuses. He suspected I’d been poking around in his office. I bowed my head and left, but the feeling clanged through my bones, a distant bell tolling.