A Little Hatred (The Age of Madness #1) - Joe Abercrombie Page 0,206

he always had in her presence.

‘Your Majesty.’ Savine dropped into a curtsy on an instinct, her face suddenly burning. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Northern girl clumsily trying to imitate her but, in trousers, abjectly failing.

‘I so enjoyed my visit to the Solar Society,’ the king was blathering. She could hardly hear the words over the thudding of blood in her head. ‘So impressed by what you and Master Curnsbick have achieved. The industry, the innovation, the progress. So proud to have … subjects … like you. Young ladies pointing the way to the future, and so forth—’

‘Please excuse me,’ she managed to whisper, turning so fast she almost stumbled. She took a wobbling step or two, weak at the knees.

‘I’m Rikke,’ she heard the Northern girl yammering behind her. ‘Rhymes with pricker.’

‘The Dogman’s daughter, of course! He was a good friend of my good friend Logen Ninefingers, you know.’

‘Ah, you have to be realistic.’

‘Exactly!’

‘Talking o’ which, my father was saying we were promised six seats on the Open Council …’

Savine tugged at her corset in a futile attempt to let in some air. She felt buried. She was sure she was about to fountain vomit all over the pinnacle of society. It was only a sudden, sobering stab of cold rage that stopped her, froze the guilt and fear and left her icy.

Selest dan Heugen, that sly bitch. She was only twenty paces off, using every weapon in her arsenal on Leo dan Brock, fanning herself as if she was on fire.

Did she think she could worm her way into Savine’s place? Steal her canal, her connections, her profits? It was precisely what Savine would have done in her tasteless shoes, of course, but that was only the more reason to make her pay for it.

Selest saw her coming, carried across the hall on a wave of poisonous fury, and darted to head her off. ‘Lady Savine! We are all so very glad you have returned to us unhurt.’

‘Lady Selest, you’re such a treasure.’

‘It must have been a terrible ordeal, what you went through.’

The temptation to bite her was almost overwhelming. But Savine only shrugged. ‘I was far from the only one who suffered.’

Selest was pretty, clever and rich, but she led with her chest and smiled far too much. Smile all the time and you’ll make them sick, like a cook serving nothing but meringue. Make your smile a rare treat, you’ll leave them desperate to taste another. Savine let Brock see the corner of hers, just for a moment, almost hidden behind her fan.

‘I’m Leo,’ he said, with that bluff, blunt Angland accent.

‘Of course you are,’ said Savine.

Selest’s voice dripped with tattletale venom. ‘Lady Savine was in Valbeck.’

As if Valbeck was some awful secret. She thought to make Savine seem ruined. But all she would do was make her seem fascinating. Savine would see to it.

‘It’s true,’ she said, turning away, biting her lip as though at horrible memories.

Brock blinked. ‘During the uprising?’

‘I was visiting a manufactory in which I am … in which I was a part owner … when it happened.’ She let it hang there for a long time, finally meeting Leo’s eye. As if she would not tell just anyone, but could not hide the truth from him. ‘The workers turned on us. Several hundred of them. I am ashamed to say I locked myself in an office. I heard them overpower the guards, heard them set upon my business partner.’

Brock stared, mouth slightly open. ‘By the dead …’

Savine caught a delicious glimpse of doubt on Selest’s face. As she realised that her banal drivel could not possibly compete with this. ‘I found a loose board, broke my nails pulling it up. I had to crawl through the machinery to get away, while they smashed down the door above.’

Brock was spellbound. ‘That must’ve taken some courage.’

‘Or lucky cowardice, in my case. I saw one of the guards dragged into the machinery. His arm was ripped off in the gears.’

Selest preened and fluttered in an effort to recapture Brock’s attention, but it was futile. Sometimes pretty lies win the day. But sometimes ugly truths cut deeper. She spoke on, relentless, imagining each word was a slap in Selest’s face.

‘I crawled through the guts of the building to the river and squeezed between a wall and a waterwheel. I found a filthy old coat washed up on the riverbank, disguised myself as a beggar and ran. The city was …