Page 24 of Lord of Ruin (The Age of Blood #2)
The reason came out, eventually, as such things often do. But it would have done little to ease the pain they had gone through in the meanwhile, to undo the very real hurt they had suffered.
And Isaac had never once stopped to think about it.
“He is not our enemy,” Anton said, simple as that.
He poured himself a cup of tea with an almost sickening amount of sugar and cream, then tossed it back in one go like he wished it was something stronger.
“You know things are more complicated than that, Monique, and for the sake of our friendship I ask that you hear us out.”
Monique looked like she was about to argue, but Anton stopped her with a significant look, the kind that spoke of years of friendship, reading each other without even needing a word.
Isaac once had something similar with Shan, an understanding that went deeper than time, and he had thrown it away when the King had plucked him from obscurity. Seeing it now, in others, reopened the wound he had long thought closed.
Hells, he had made a mess of everything. He had long history of hurting those he cared about until he found himself deep in the heart of Aeravin’s atrocities, where he just hurt everyone instead.
“You both are right,” Isaac said, “things are more complicated than they would appear, but I still need to explain myself. If you would be willing to give me a chance?”
Monique and Anton shared that look again, and she let out a sigh. “Fine.”
“I’m sure that you are already familiar with my actions last year,” Isaac began, wrapping his fingers around his cup of coffee, its warmth the only thing grounding him, “and I don’t intend to waste your time.
My actions were… they were the only thing I could think of.
There are a lot of things about being Royal Blood Worker that were a secret, even to the highest level of the government. ”
“That is true,” Samuel chimed in, coming around to rest his hand on Isaac’s shoulder. “I can confirm that the Royal Council had no information on this matter.”
“Ah yes, we can’t forget the Councillor,” Monique sneered. The look she shot Samuel was assessing, like she was trying to figure out a threat, and Isaac had to catch the inhuman growl that reverberated in the back of his throat.
No one looked at his man like that.
But Samuel didn’t flinch at all, simply arching an eyebrow as he projected that calm mask that Isaac was beginning to recognize as Lord Aberforth.
Not precisely Samuel, not the man he loved, but what he needed to be to survive in this blood-soaked city.
It was sad and a little frightening, how easily Samuel adapted, but there was also a fierce sense of pride.
Oh, Isaac would tear the world apart for Samuel, but he didn’t need to. His love was strong enough to survive—to thrive—on his own.
“Yes,” Samuel said, smoothly, “I am a Royal Councillor, and yes, I am the heir to the Eternal King. Which is exactly why your little group needs me. I can offer insights and information that you cannot get anywhere else.”
“And we are just supposed to trust that you are on our side?”
Anton waved a hand, drawing Monique’s attention back to him. “Don’t forget that I was there when my sister found him. He never wanted any of this. We can trust him, that I am sure of. De la Cruz, though?” His smile was sharp, a challenge thrown at his feet. “He can grovel a bit.”
Isaac couldn’t help the little sneer that crossed his face—even now, when they were supposed to be allies, Anton couldn’t help but needle at him, ever the brat. But, in the back of his mind, he knew the man had a point. Despite his attempts to explain, he still hadn’t proved himself.
So grovel he would.
“I regret the consequences of my actions,” Isaac said, holding his head high and refusing to flinch.
Regret he had in spades, but he was beyond shame now.
“I regret that they led the King to enforce new and harsher laws.
I regret that I was unable to do anything to mitigate their bite.
But I do not regret the souls whose lives I took, nor the power it brought me.
“Each and every one of them sealed their fates with their actions,” he all but spat.
“They were all part of the wider problem, kidnapping innocent Unblooded and delivering them to be slaughtered. As long as they lived, as long as their secret was kept, Aeravin would never have been free of those who shackled them.” He glared at the woman across from him.
“I am sorry for the hurt I caused you, but your girl was not innocent.”
“Her name was Sarah—”
“And she was keen to betray her fellow Unblooded,” Isaac interrupted.
“Just because you never saw that side of her doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.
I think everyone here understands just how steeped in lies this entire nation is, but if we cannot confront the uncomfortable truths, then we will never make any progress at all. ”
His jury had nothing to say to that. Monique had the decency to look somewhat ashamed pushing for this—it was a truth she wasn’t ready yet to face, and though Isaac understood her grief, they did not have time to waste.
And for Maia, well, it appeared that she agreed with him, a kind of grudging understanding crossing her expression as she offered a smile.
Alaric remained as stoic as ever, but he inclined his head in a quick nod—as much of an approval as Isaac suspected he would get from him.
“Well, then,” Anton said, smirking at everyone like this had played out exactly as he wanted it too. Maybe it had. Maybe he was more like his sister than any of them had ever realized, and here he was, already dancing to a new master’s tune. “Are we agreed?”
“I don’t like it,” Monique said. “I don’t like him .”
“I’m not asking you to,” Isaac replied. He did not need them to like him, he did not expect them to like him. What he wanted was for them to trust him. “But I can be useful.”
Isaac stood, pressing his hands into the table, towering over them. He could smell the sudden tang of fear and unease, their hearts beating just a little bit faster. “I am ready to make up for that, if you would allow me to. If you would only give me the chance.”
A fissure of tension went around the room, the pungent taste of fear sour in the back of his mouth. But Anton just stood to meet him, holding out his hand. “Welcome to the Resistance, Isaac.”