Midnight Jewel
Page 83
“Marriage is my last resort,” I insisted. “That’s why I never mentioned it. I don’t even think about it. I really am hoping to buy freedom for Lonzo and me. I’ll either get the money from Tom, or you’ll solve your case, and we can all be happy. Me with my reward, you with your official agent promotion.”
His furious expression abruptly turned puzzled. “What?”
“Isn’t that what you get?” I became equally confused by his reaction. “You’ve said before you have a lot on the line with this job. And Silas explained how you’re an honorary agent—and that solving this will change things.”
“Did he say I’d become an agent?”
“Not exactly . . .” I tried to read his face and figure out what I was missing. “I just assumed it. What else is there?”
Grant lapsed into silence again. Our roles shifted, and now he was on the defensive. “I do get a promotion . . . but not to a run-of-the-mill agent.” He took a long, deep breath and exhaled before going on. “Osfrid and the Balanquans have made a deal, in order to ensure relations stay harmonious. The colonies are going to send a delegation— ambassadors and their families—up there to live among them and help with the peace. It’s unusual that the Balanquans would allow it—they’ve become pretty tight with their borders. But as much as Osfrid’s king wants a good relationship with them, he also wants insurance. Since I’m trained, I’ll be spying on the Balanquans. The whole delegation will, actually, but I’ll be in charge of processing all the intelligence. No one will suspect it as long as my cover stays intact. They’ll just think I’m there because I know the language.”
My whole world came to a standstill. “You’re going away. Far away. To the people who treated you like a ghost.”
Amusement—dark amusement—crossed his face. “That’s the thing. In the Balanquan social hierarchy, ambassadors are treated with extreme honor and indulgence. They acquire a status second only to the league chiefs. I’d be in the sixth branch—that’s what the social levels are called. Sixth is well above my family’s status, well above my uncle’s.” Grant pointed to the mysterious scar on his arm. “This was my mark of status before—my citizenship among the Balanquans, born to a third-branch family. When I returned, my uncle made a case that I didn’t deserve to be a citizen—both because I was a mixed bastard and because I’d spent so much time away. He argued I was more Osfridian now and had lost my rights to the Empire. The judges agreed. They burned this off and exiled me.”
I shuddered. “Grant, I’m so sorry.”
“I found out later that my uncle was being elevated to the fourth branch to work in a commander’s household. It wouldn’t have been possible if he was still related to me. But with this assignment? I’ll vastly outrank him. For the first time in my life, he’ll actually have to treat me with respect.” Grant’s eyes glittered darkly, and his words dripped with bitterness.
It was a lot to take in, a lot to process. And I still hadn’t recovered from the news he would be leaving. It sat in my stomach like a leaden weight. “So this drive you have to finish the case, this goal you told me you were working for . . . it’s not about settling into the agency. It’s not about supporting Silas. It’s about revenge.”
Grant frowned. “There’s more to it than that.”
“It sounds pretty straightforward to me.”
“Mirabel, I’ll get my status back.” In one of the few times in our acquaintance, he was trying to convince me of something, rather than telling me. He was almost beseeching me. “I’ll probably get a new name—a real name, not that ‘no status’ joke my uncle gave me! Everything they took away will be restored—and then some.”
“But is it what you want?” I exclaimed. He seemed so indifferent to the world sometimes. This was almost beyond comprehension. “Do you really want to live with people who did that to you? Abandon Silas and Aiana? They’re more like family than any of your blood relations.”
“It’s not just about them. It’s the land, too. I thought you of all people would know what it’s like to have your homeland ripped away from you.”
“I rejected it. It didn’t reject me.”
“So you’re done with it? You’re done being Sirminican? You’ve settled too comfortably into Osfridian high society?”
The questions caught me off guard. “N-no. Of course not.”
“Do you want to see Sirminica again?” he pushed.
“Yes. It’s still a part of me. But it’s not possible to get back anytime soon.”
“Well, the Empire’s still a part of me too. I feel it inside.” He tapped his chest. “I need to see it again, and I can get back.”
“Yes, but you seem obsessed with doing it in a way that focuses on revenge. Outranking your uncle was the first thing you mentioned—not reuniting with your birthplace.”
“You’re in no position to lecture me, considering some of your current life choices,” he warned.
“And you’re in no position to lecture me for keeping secrets! When were you going to tell me this? I would’ve liked to have known before I got into your bed that you were going to head off across the continent afterward!”
“Would that have made a difference?” he asked. “You just said you hadn’t thought beyond this.”
“I guess I’m not the only one,” I snapped. “But why does it matter? You only like me a little, after all.” Even as I spoke, I knew I was a hypocrite. I’d made plans without him and then had the audacity to be outraged when he made his own. No one had been betrayed here. There were no promises between us. I knew all of that . . . but it didn’t change how hurt and angry I felt. How broken and dismissed.
His furious expression abruptly turned puzzled. “What?”
“Isn’t that what you get?” I became equally confused by his reaction. “You’ve said before you have a lot on the line with this job. And Silas explained how you’re an honorary agent—and that solving this will change things.”
“Did he say I’d become an agent?”
“Not exactly . . .” I tried to read his face and figure out what I was missing. “I just assumed it. What else is there?”
Grant lapsed into silence again. Our roles shifted, and now he was on the defensive. “I do get a promotion . . . but not to a run-of-the-mill agent.” He took a long, deep breath and exhaled before going on. “Osfrid and the Balanquans have made a deal, in order to ensure relations stay harmonious. The colonies are going to send a delegation— ambassadors and their families—up there to live among them and help with the peace. It’s unusual that the Balanquans would allow it—they’ve become pretty tight with their borders. But as much as Osfrid’s king wants a good relationship with them, he also wants insurance. Since I’m trained, I’ll be spying on the Balanquans. The whole delegation will, actually, but I’ll be in charge of processing all the intelligence. No one will suspect it as long as my cover stays intact. They’ll just think I’m there because I know the language.”
My whole world came to a standstill. “You’re going away. Far away. To the people who treated you like a ghost.”
Amusement—dark amusement—crossed his face. “That’s the thing. In the Balanquan social hierarchy, ambassadors are treated with extreme honor and indulgence. They acquire a status second only to the league chiefs. I’d be in the sixth branch—that’s what the social levels are called. Sixth is well above my family’s status, well above my uncle’s.” Grant pointed to the mysterious scar on his arm. “This was my mark of status before—my citizenship among the Balanquans, born to a third-branch family. When I returned, my uncle made a case that I didn’t deserve to be a citizen—both because I was a mixed bastard and because I’d spent so much time away. He argued I was more Osfridian now and had lost my rights to the Empire. The judges agreed. They burned this off and exiled me.”
I shuddered. “Grant, I’m so sorry.”
“I found out later that my uncle was being elevated to the fourth branch to work in a commander’s household. It wouldn’t have been possible if he was still related to me. But with this assignment? I’ll vastly outrank him. For the first time in my life, he’ll actually have to treat me with respect.” Grant’s eyes glittered darkly, and his words dripped with bitterness.
It was a lot to take in, a lot to process. And I still hadn’t recovered from the news he would be leaving. It sat in my stomach like a leaden weight. “So this drive you have to finish the case, this goal you told me you were working for . . . it’s not about settling into the agency. It’s not about supporting Silas. It’s about revenge.”
Grant frowned. “There’s more to it than that.”
“It sounds pretty straightforward to me.”
“Mirabel, I’ll get my status back.” In one of the few times in our acquaintance, he was trying to convince me of something, rather than telling me. He was almost beseeching me. “I’ll probably get a new name—a real name, not that ‘no status’ joke my uncle gave me! Everything they took away will be restored—and then some.”
“But is it what you want?” I exclaimed. He seemed so indifferent to the world sometimes. This was almost beyond comprehension. “Do you really want to live with people who did that to you? Abandon Silas and Aiana? They’re more like family than any of your blood relations.”
“It’s not just about them. It’s the land, too. I thought you of all people would know what it’s like to have your homeland ripped away from you.”
“I rejected it. It didn’t reject me.”
“So you’re done with it? You’re done being Sirminican? You’ve settled too comfortably into Osfridian high society?”
The questions caught me off guard. “N-no. Of course not.”
“Do you want to see Sirminica again?” he pushed.
“Yes. It’s still a part of me. But it’s not possible to get back anytime soon.”
“Well, the Empire’s still a part of me too. I feel it inside.” He tapped his chest. “I need to see it again, and I can get back.”
“Yes, but you seem obsessed with doing it in a way that focuses on revenge. Outranking your uncle was the first thing you mentioned—not reuniting with your birthplace.”
“You’re in no position to lecture me, considering some of your current life choices,” he warned.
“And you’re in no position to lecture me for keeping secrets! When were you going to tell me this? I would’ve liked to have known before I got into your bed that you were going to head off across the continent afterward!”
“Would that have made a difference?” he asked. “You just said you hadn’t thought beyond this.”
“I guess I’m not the only one,” I snapped. “But why does it matter? You only like me a little, after all.” Even as I spoke, I knew I was a hypocrite. I’d made plans without him and then had the audacity to be outraged when he made his own. No one had been betrayed here. There were no promises between us. I knew all of that . . . but it didn’t change how hurt and angry I felt. How broken and dismissed.
