Page 54 of The Winner's Crime
Arin retrieved it. “Take care. You’ll damage the blade. I happen to know that it keeps a nice, sharp edge. I made sure that the palace guard I took it from knew it, too. You’d think that a Valorian would have more courage than to hire someone to attack me in a dark corner.”
“Arin, it wasn’t me.”
“I didn’t say it was.” But he was angry and rough.
“I could never.”
Arin must have sensed that she was ready to weep, that the dagger in his hands was warping in her blurred vision. He spoke more gently. “I don’t think that you did.”
“Why?” Her voice wavered and broke. “I could have arranged for it. That’s my dagger. That’s my seal. Why do you believe what I say? Why would you believe in me at all?”
He moved to lean forward on the railing, forearms folded with the blade dangling down over the river, his face in profile. Finally, he said, “I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“I know,” he muttered.
She heard the strain in his voice. His eyes cut to her, and she saw that he knew she had heard it. His body shifted into a position of determined nonchalance. “Logically speaking,” he said lightly, “the idea that you hired someone to attack me doesn’t make much sense. I’m not sure what your motive would be.”
“I could have wanted to put an end to the rumors.”
“That would be a shame. I like the rumors.”
“Don’t joke. You should blame me. You must.”
He shook his head. “It’s not like you to send someone else to do your dirty work.”
“I could have changed.”
“Kestrel, why are you trying to convince me of your guilt?”
Because this is my fault, she wanted to say.
“A moment ago, you insisted that you had nothing to do with this,” Arin said, “and that’s what makes sense. Do you want to tell me why the emperor took your dagger? Whom did he want to punish with it? Just me … or you, too?”
Kestrel couldn’t speak.
“I might even be flattered,” Arin said, “if the emperor’s form of flattery didn’t hurt so much.” He straightened, and offered her the dagger again.
“No,” she said sharply.
“It’s not the blade’s fault.”
She choked on her anguish. On her guilt, her fault, and his trust. “If you give that dagger to me, I will throw it in the river.”
Arin shrugged. He tucked the dagger back into his boot, then he faced her. The slash curved slightly in his cheek like half a smile, but his mouth was flat as he watched her take him in. “I’m sure that my new appearance is fascinating in all sorts of ways, but I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’d rather talk about this.” He pointed at Kestrel’s work scarf and dragged his finger down through the air to her black boots. “Kestrel, what are you doing?”
She had forgotten what she wore. “Nothing.”
He lifted his dark brows.
“It was a dare,” she said. “A senator’s daughter dared me to sneak out of the palace without an escort.”
“Try harder, Kestrel.”
She muttered, “I was tired of being closed up inside the palace.”
“That I believe. But I doubt it’s the whole truth.”
