Page 102 of A House of Gold
Croesus turns from the window. "There's a woman who will be at the masquerade tonight. Helena Cortez. She's a prominent art collector, moves in the highest social circles, has connections to museums and galleries worldwide. Three months ago, she made a deal with Idris."
"What kind of deal?"
"She wanted a rival's collection. A private collector who had pieces she'd been trying to acquire for years, rare paintings, sculptures, artifacts. Idris offered to get them for her. All of them. In exchange, she signed over her ability to appreciate beauty."
I feel sick. "So she got the collection?"
"And can't enjoy it. Can't look at the paintings and feel anything. Can't understand why she wanted them in the first place. She's become obsessed with acquiring more, convinced that quantity will somehow restore what she's lost." He moves to the bed, sits beside me. Not touching, but close. "Idris is usingher. She's his proxy in the art world, acquiring pieces for him while thinking she's collecting for herself. In a year, maybe two, when the envy consumes her completely, he'll collect her soul and keep everything she's gathered."
"That's..." I search for the right word. "Cruel doesn't even cover it."
"Idris is envy incarnate. Cruelty is his nature." Croesus's voice is matter-of-fact. "But he's also been cultivating Helena very carefully. She's influential, connected, valuable. Other collectors trust her. Museums seek her opinion. She's a perfect tool for building his collection."
Understanding clicks. "And you want to take her away from him."
"I want to steal his best asset. Break her contract, free her soul, and make it available for my collection instead." He turns toward me, and even without seeing his eyes, I feel the weight of his attention. "This isn't about saving Helena, Raven. Don't mistake this for altruism. This is about humiliating Idris. Proving I can walk into his house, take what's his, and walk out again. This is territorial warfare. Strategic theft. Power."
The honesty is almost refreshing. At least he's not pretending this is noble.
"Helena still goes free," I point out.
"As a side effect. Not the goal." He leans forward slightly. "I need you to understand what you're participating in. This isn't breaking a contract to help someone. This is using you as a weapon to hurt a rival. The fact that Helena benefits is incidental."
"Why tell me this?" I ask. "Why not just let me think I'm doing a good deed?"
"Because I don't lie to you." His voice softens slightly. "You're bound to me now. Part of my house. You deserve to know when I'm using you, even if you can't refuse. You’ll feel it anyway."
Through the binding, I feel his sincerity. His hunger for what this represents, yes, but also something like respect. Like he's giving me the truth because I've earned it.
"Okay," I say. "So we crash Idris's masquerade, I break Helena's contract, and then what? I'll need to purge immediately."
"You'll come back here to purge. I've already stashed backup ritual supplies in a storage room, third floor, eastern wing, behind a tapestry of Narcissus, though. Just in case."
"Just in case of what?"
"In case I can't get to you right away after the contract breaks." He stands, offers me his hand. "Idris will feel it the moment you break Helena's contract. He'll come looking, probably follow us back. I'll need to stay visible, keep watch for him without drawing attention to where you actually are. I won't be able to come to you immediately without leading him straight to you."
I take his hand, let him pull me to my feet. "So I'm on my own for the purge."
"You have everything you need. And if something goes wrong, if he finds you anyway, use the binding. Call for me. I'll come."
He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a small pendant on a silver chain. It's made of black stone carved with symbols I don't recognize, and it pulses with subtle magic.
"This will dampen your angel-blood signature," he explains, fastening it around my neck. His fingers are warm against my skin. "Idris is perceptive. Unnaturally so. Even with the masquerade's wards, he'd sense your bloodline if you aren't protected. This will hide you. Make you just another human at his party."
"Until I break the contract."
"Until you break the contract," he agrees. "Then he'll know exactly what you are. But by then, you'll be gone."
The pendant settles against my chest, cool and heavy. I can feel its magic wrapping around me, muffling something I didn't even know was visible.
"How do we get there?" I ask.
"The same way we got to Wren's." He produces a small hand mirror from his pocket. "The spaces between connect all the houses. We just have to know the right path."
"And you know it."
"I've been to the House of Regret many times. Usually for formal occasions, political meetings, the tedious social obligations that come with our positions." His smile is cold. "Never for theft. This will be a first. I’m kind of excited about it."
