He reaches into his collar and shows me. Like the General’s, it’s silver. “I do.”
“You’re young to have so much authority in the decurio.”
He shrugs it off. “It’s just because of my dad.”
“The General of the entire decurio turns toyouas his right hand. That’s more than your father, that’s all you.” I smile. “I’m sure your mother would be proud.”
That sad look returns to his eyes. “She was.”
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “What you said before . . . I didn’t know she disappeared.”
“Two years ago. They never found a body, so she was only officially declared dead last year, but I’ve known for a while now that she’s gone. She disappeared one day, and no one ever saw her again. But I know she’s dead. If she was alive, she’d have come back for me.”
“Did the decurio investigate?”
“Yes, but they didn’t find anything.”
I feel a rush of heat. I can’t exactly accuse the grieving son of lying, so I move to stand before him with a soft, coaxing smile. “You’re sure? Nothing?”
“Nothing that made sense. A maid who worked in our home was arrested for stealing around the same time. My dad said it might have something to do with Mom’s disappearance.”
“You think she was involved somehow?”
Flynn looks as if he’s about to answer, but then shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Mira, but I can’t talk about this. She’s gone. The investigation is over.”
There’s more I want to ask, but I hold my tongue. Selva Sixmen accusing a maid of theft might not sound suspicious to an outsider, but I know better. This wouldn’t be his first time lying to the decurio.
Years ago, he falsely testified to keep himself out of prison for pilfering public funds. Selva pocketed the money, the man he accused went to prison in his stead, and the Republic was none the wiser. The Shadow Queen has threatened him with that secret before. And now he’s accused someone else of stealing.
Is this maid truly guilty? Or just another victim of Selva Sixmen’s lies?
“I’m sorry.” I lay a hand over Flynn’s.
He sighs sadly. “Thank you. I spent a long time obsessing over what happened to her. Sometimes, I swear I still hear her voice, telling me she loves me.”
“Trust me. I know the feeling.”
Flynn smiles gratefully at me, and I smile back. All the while, my suspicions are piqued. Somewhere out there is a maid who knows something Selva Sixmen fought like hell to keep buried.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
RACE AND RUIN
The supposed thief’s name is Eduma. For the past two years, she’s been rotting in the prisons at the base of the mountain.
There are dungeons in Widow’s Hall for holding alleged criminals awaiting trial and prisons at the base of the mountain for those found guilty. Prisoners are expected to work, often in the mines alongside desperate Opherans willing to risk cave-ins and tunnel collapses for a meal.
I take the sky cart to the base of the mountain and slip a few coins to a guard. That’s all it takes to speak with a prisoner.
“Hello, Eduma,” I say as a guard deposits her into a chair and leaves us for the next fifteen minutes.
Eduma is taller than I expected, and very skinny. Her dark hair is messily pulled back into a pouf, there’s a gap between her two front teeth, and there’s a golden sun tattooed on her inner wrist. She’s inexplicably bound to her seat. There’s no reason for it. She doesn’t put up a fight, her arms look like they’d snap in half if she tried to throw a punch, and she’s shaking like a pine needle in the wind. “W-who are you? The guards said you were family.”
I never told them we were related. They probably saw my tattoo and just assumed. “I’m a friend. I work closely with the Praeceptor. I have a few questions about your former employer, Honorate Sixmen.”
Eduma’s eyes round with terror. “I swear I didn’t steal anything.” She looks like she’s about to cry. “I know he said I did, but—”
I reach across the table to lay a hand over hers. “Eduma, I believe you.”
