Chapter 382: The Truth is a Sharper Blade
The cavern had grown warr from the fire, enough that I wasn’t worried about hypothermia anymore. Our clothes hung near the flas, still damp but getting there. Another few hours and we’d be presentable again.
Assuming the Arborist gave us a few hours.
I reached for the knife she’d grabbed from the pedestal, still lying where it had fallen after we’d used it to unlock the doorway. The blade caught the firelight, those silver swirls moving like they were alive. The heartwood of the First Tree, forged into a weapon specifically to kill the thing that had imprisoned it for millennia.
Poetic justice had a certain appeal.
"You should be sleeping."
Her voice startled . I looked down to find her eyes open, watching
with that analytical gaze that seed to see more than I wanted her to.
"Could say the sa about you, Princess."
"I thought we established you weren’t supposed to call
that." She didn’t move from where she’d settled against my side, just shifted slightly to get more comfortable.
"You tell
what I should call you instead, then."
She considered this for longer than the question warranted. "Cel. Just Cel."
"That what Monica calls you?"
"Sotis. When we’re alone and she forgets that I’m supposed to be..." She trailed off, searching for the word.
"A walking political asset?"
Her lips twitched. "Sothing like that."
We fell quiet again, but it wasn’t the awkward silence from before. This one felt different. Easier.
"Can I ask you sothing?" Her voice ca out softer than usual. "And I want an honest answer, not whatever tactical response you’ve calculated will move
in the direction you want."
I tensed despite myself. The Liar’s Brooch was currently drying with my pants across the cavern, which ant I had nothing to warn
if my bullshit detector was about to go off.
"Shoot."
"Why did you really ask for
to be transferred to Onyx?" She propped herself up on one elbow to look at
properly. "And don’t tell
it was just about Noah’s sleep schedule."
I could’ve lied. Should’ve lied. Told her so pretty story about seeing her potential or wanting to save her from Julian’s incompetent leadership.
Instead, I found myself telling her a version of the truth.
"Your sister erased my father from history," I said, watching the purple flas instead of her face. "Scrubbed his na from every university record, classified his research, made him disappear so thoroughly that even his own family pretended not to know my mother. The VHC destroyed everything he worked for, and when he vanished, they made sure nobody could ask why."
Celeste’s breath caught. "You think Seraphina—"
"I don’t think. I know." I t her eyes. "The question is whether your sister ordered it or just covered it up after the fact. Either way, she’s got answers I need, and you’re my best shot at getting close enough to find them."
She should’ve pulled away. Should’ve gotten angry or defensive, should’ve reminded
that her sister was the President of the VHC and I was just so upstart Zero playing at being dangerous.
Instead, she stayed exactly where she was, her hand still resting on my chest, right over my heart.
"So that’s what I am to you," she said quietly. "A key to unlock your investigation."
"That’s what you were supposed to be." I grabbed her wrist, keeping her hand pressed against . "But sowhere between watching you face down that A-Rank monster with nothing but ice and guts, and listening to you admit you don’t have actual friends, you stopped being just a tactical asset."
"What am I now, then?"
"Complicated."
She laughed, the sound bitter and bright all at once. "That’s the second ti you’ve called
that."
"It’s the truth." I released her wrist but she didn’t pull away. "You’re Seraphina’s sister, which ans you’re politically radioactive. You’re also powerful enough that people will always want to use you. And sowhere underneath all that programming and etiquette training, there’s a girl who just wants to pick her own path for once in her goddamn life."
"You see all that from a few conversations?"
"I’m good at reading people. Part of the package."
"What package would that be?"
"The one that cos with being raised by a single mother in the worst part of the city," I said, the lie flowing smooth as silk. "You learn real fast who’s genuine and who’s just looking for an angle. Survival skill."
She was quiet for a long mont, her fingers absently tracing patterns against my chest. The touch was light, almost unconscious, but it sent heat curling through my stomach that had nothing to do with the fire.
"I should hate you," she said finally. "You’re using
to get to my sister. You manipulate everyone around you. I’ve watched you play Emi and Skylar and even Natalia like instrunts, getting exactly what you want from each of them."
"But you don’t hate ."
"No." Her hand stilled. "I don’t. I should, but I don’t. And that terrifies
more than the Arborist or the Harvesters or any of this nightmare we’re trapped in."
I cupped her face, tilting it up toward mine. "You want to know why?"
"Enlighten ."
"Because I’m the first person who’s ever been honest with you about wanting sothing. Everyone else hides it behind pretty words and political gas. Your sister, the VHC, every boy your family’s tried to arrange you with—they all want to use you, they’re just better at pretending they don’t."
Her eyes searched mine. "And you’re not pretending."
"Never have. Never will." I let my thumb brush across her cheekbone. "I need you to get to the truth about my father. But I also ant what I said earlier. You’re not what I expected. You’re real, Cel. And that’s rarer than S-Rank potential in this fucked-up world we live in."
She leaned into my touch, just slightly. "You’re still using ."
"Yeah. But at least you know it going in." I dropped my hand. "You want
to stop? Say the word. I’ll figure out another way to get my answers. Won’t bother you again."
"I didn’t say I wanted you to stop."
Reviews
All reviews (0)