Nevernight (The Nevernight Chronicle #1) - Jay Kristoff Page 0,169

steal? With a false antidote inside?”

Mia looked into those big hazel eyes. Saw a flicker of softness. That same softness he showed in her bed. Holding her close and smoothing back her hair. Problem was, there was no place for it out here. And for all her talk to Mister Kindly of holding on to her pity, she knew there was precious little place for that, either.

Not for Lotti’s murderers, anyway.

Mia put down her cutlery. Eyes narrowing. “And what if I did, Don Tric?”

“When you came to me last night … was that because you wanted to be with me, or you just wanted to be out of your room?”

“Why can’t it be both?”

“I don’t like being used, Mia.”

Mia glanced sidelong at the acolytes around her. Though each pretended to be busy with their meal, she could sense them listening. Feel their eyes. Staring at this shade of Mia Corvere they’d never really seen. Liar. Snake. Fox.

“Look, if Diamo stole my notes and gulped down a bellyful of poison, the idiot deserves whatever he got. Someone that stupid wouldn’t last a month in a real Chapel. I did him a damned mercy.”

“Mercy?” Tric frowned. “He choked to death on his own blood, Mia.”

Mia glared down the bench at Jessamine, back to Tric.

“Like Lotti, you mean?”

Jessamine thumped the table, clutching her roastknife in a tight fist. She glanced at the Shahiid, wary of drawing their eye. Staring at Mia, her voice low and measured.

“We never touched Carlotta.”

“Bullshit,” Ash muttered. “Everyone in here heard you threaten to kill her, bitch.”

“Black Mother, I would have if I had the chance,” Jessamine hissed. “But I’d account for it afterward, Corvere. At least to you. I’d want to see the look in your eyes.” The redhead shook her head, lips curled in a sneer. “But I’d have wanted to see the look in Carlotta’s eyes, too. So I’d have done her head on. Just so she could see my face when I ended her.”

Mia stared at Jessamine, eyes glittering like polished flint.

“Then you’re an idiot too,” she said.

“Mia…,” Tric warned.

“What?” she snapped. “Listen, just because I’m willing to wet the furs with you doesn’t mean you get to judge who I am and what I do. This isn’t a nursery. Maw’s teeth, we’re would-be assassins, Tric. Maybe you should start acting like it. Remember why you came here.” She eyed the phial of ink around his neck, all that remained of his grandfather’s hatred. “Remember who you used to be, even if the mirror has forgotten.”

Tric’s hand went to his necklace, eyes growing wide. Hurt and anger in equal measure. Mia ignored the both of them. Pushed her plate aside.

“See you in the circle.”

And without another word, she rose and walked away.

Mia looked the Dweymeri boy in his eyes. Saw no flicker of softness. Nothing close to what he showed in her bed, holding her close and smoothing back her hair. No trace of the hurt left either. He’d left that behind in the Sky Altar.

No, what she saw was rage.

The acolytes and Ministry were assembled around the circle. Solis and his Hands waiting, silver coin in his palm. Mia and Tric faced each other across ten feet of buffed granite, the stains of Diamo’s ending nowhere to be seen.

“Acolyte Mia, call the toss.”

“Senate.”

A bright chime rang as the coin struck stone.

“Senate it is.”

Tric stalked to the racks, drew out a cruel scimitar and sliced the air. Strapping a small buckler to his off-hand, he stepped back into the ring. Eyes cold. Jaw clenched.

He’s furious. I cut him badly.

Mia walked to the racks, selected a stiletto and rapier.

Good.

The gong rang. The pair joined, steel against steel, speed and agility versus strength and ferocity. Every acolyte knew by now that Tric and Mia shared each other’s bed. She supposed every one of them was expecting one or the other to fight soft. To let the other win.

That’d be the romantic thing to do, aye?

Within ten seconds of the gong fading, that thought was left dead on the circle floor. Tric was out for blood. Face twisted. Teeth clenched. His saltlocks whipped about him as he swung at Mia’s chest and head. The girl was quick, but the big Dweymeri’s footwork was excellent, hemming Mia in on the circle’s edge, where her speed counted for less. Surprise was no longer on her side; everyone knew her swordarm wasn’t as weak as she’d played it, nor she the novice she’d pretended. And so Tric was wary, guard high,