Page 107 of A House of Gold
Beautiful, his voice whispers in my mind.The way you take it in, make it yours, then cast it out. Like you're wearingsomeone else's skin for a moment before shedding it. He tilts his head. Does it hurt?
"Yes."
But you do it anyway.Not a question. An observation.You take other people's sins into yourself, suffer for it, purge it, and then do it again. Why?
"Because someone has to."
That's not an answer.He stands, moves closer. Not threatening, just curious. His lips form the words silently as they echo in my head.Why you? Why volunteer for this?
I think about Luna. About keeping her safe. About the contract that chains me here.
"Because I don't have a choice," I say finally.
Everyone has a choice.He crouches in front of me, close enough that I can see the way his features shift subtly.You chose to serve all seven houses. Chose to become a weapon in our eternal war.His expression softens.Why?
"To protect someone I love."
Ah.Understanding flickers across his face.Love. That most dangerous of human emotions. The thing that makes you sign away your freedom, your safety, your life.He reaches out like he might touch my face, then stops.Tell me something. Do you love him yet? Croesus?
Through the binding, I feel Croesus getting closer. He's on the third floor now, searching for this room. He felt my fear, my panic. He's coming.
"I don't know," I say honestly.
You do. You're just afraid to admit it.Idris stands.The binding does that. Ties you together until you can't tell where your feelings end and his begin. Eventually, you'll love him because you'll feel his love for you, and you won't be able to separate them.
"That's not– You don’t know me. Anything about me or how this works."
It's exactly how it works. I've seen it before.He moves toward the door, pauses with his hand on the frame. His lips continue their soundless movements.You and Croesus. This little game you're playing. Stealing from my House, breaking my contracts, humiliating me on my own territory. His smile is sharp, dangerous. It's war. You understand that, right? This is an act of war. And I will respond.
"The treaties?"
Won't save you.He looks back at me, and his eyes are black now, reflecting nothing.I can't touch you directly. But I can make your life very, very difficult. I can whisper in the ears of the other Houses. I can turn them against Croesus. I can make sure everyone knows he's using a sin eater as a weapon, breaking the careful balance we've maintained for centuries.
The door slams open, and Croesus is there, real Croesus, fury rolling off him in waves.
"Idris."
Idris's lips curve into a smile, but the word that forms in my mind is conversational.Croesus. We were just having a conversation. Your sin eater is remarkable, by the way. She saw through my disguise. Most people can't do that.
"Get away from her." Croesus's voice is deadly quiet.
I'm leaving.Idris moves toward the door, stops beside Croesus. His lips move rapidly, words pouring directly into both our minds now.But understand this, you walked into my house, stole from me, humiliated me in front of my contracted souls. I can't let that stand. The next time she enters one of our houses.His mental voice drops.She might not leave.
Then he's gone, slipping past Croesus and disappearing down the corridor.
Croesus crosses to me immediately, kneeling and checking me over. "Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?"
"I'm fine. He just watched. Talked." I'm still shaking, adrenaline fading. "How did you know?"
"I felt your fear through the binding. Knew something was wrong." His hands cup my face, and through the binding, I feel his rage at Idris, his relief that I'm okay. "I should have stayed with you. Should have known he'd try something."
"You couldn't have known." I lean into his touch, exhausted. "And I'm fine. The purge is done. Helena's free."
"And Idris knows exactly what we did." Croesus helps me to my feet, steadies me when I sway. "We need to leave. Now. Before he decides to make a formal complaint to the rest of the houses."
We gather my ritual supplies, slip back into the corridor. The house feels different now, hostile, watching. I can sense eyes on us, attention focused on the two intruders who dared to steal from the House of Regret.
We descend the stairs, cross toward the door. I hand him the mirror, and we step into the threshold. I look back one last time.
