Chapter 3
The Founder Room was unlocked.
That bothered me more than forcing the door would have.
Cassian wanted me to find it.
Inside, the room looked almost untouched.
Dark wood.
Leather chairs.
A long stone bar.
My father’s portrait.
Cassian stood beneath it.
Black carnation on his lapel.
Older.
Leaner.
Still smiling like rules were merely suggestions addressed to other people.
“Cousin.”
I stopped three yards away.
“Take the flower off.”
His smile widened.
“You always hated it.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“My father hated it.”
Cassian removed it.
Interesting.
He still cared about that.
Rafe remained at the door.
I asked:
“Why are you here?”
Cassian poured himself water.
“Your fiancée invited me.”
“Why?”
“You should ask her.”
“I am asking the man hiding under my engagement party.”
He laughed.
“Fair.”
Then he showed me the table.
Eight empty glasses.
Not one.
Eight.
My eyes narrowed.
“Who was here?”
Cassian did not answer.
I looked at the chairs.
One had a handkerchief left behind.
Another carried cigar ash.
Several guests had already visited this room tonight.
While I stood upstairs accepting congratulations.
“What did you offer them?”
“Nothing.”
“What did Coralie offer?”
His smile faded slightly.
“Choice.”
There was the word people use when they want disloyalty to sound philosophical.
“Between?”
“Your Blackwell.”
“And?”
“Ours.”
I almost laughed.
“Ours.”
Cassian leaned against the table.
“Half the people upstairs think you’ve made Blackwell too centralized.”
Not new.
“They don’t speak to each other without wondering who reports back to you.”
Also not entirely false.
“You decide routes.”
“Yes.”
“Appointments.”
“Yes.”
“Who gets close.”
“Usually.”
“And Coralie thought marrying you would give her influence.”
He shrugged.
“She discovered influence near you only exists when you permit it.”
That sounded familiar.
Coralie had complained about exactly that.
I listened.
Cassian continued.
“She came to me six months ago.”
My jaw tightened.
Not an old lover who suddenly reappeared tonight.
Six months.
Half our engagement.
“What did she want?”
“A way to survive you.”
I became still.
Cassian smiled sadly.
“Not physically, Truman.”
Good clarification.
“She didn’t want to become another beautiful woman seated beside a man everyone actually obeyed.”
“And kissing you helped?”
For the first time, Cassian looked uncomfortable.
Good.
“That part wasn’t strategic.”
There it was.
May you like
Betrayal without clean purpose.
Sometimes people ruin everything for ordinary reasons.
