Golden Son (Red Rising Trilogy, #2)(48)

“You see, I collect people I enjoy, Andromedus. I even enjoy Fitchner there. Many might see him as repugnant. Might think his heritage unseemly, but, like you, he is so very talented. When I asked him to play this game before becoming one of my Olympic Knights, you know what he said?”

“I can imagine.”

“Fitchner …”

He shrugs his slumped shoulders. “Told you to stick the box up your cootch. I’m not an idiot.”

“I think it was even more crass than that,” Aja grumbles.

“My turn.” The Sovereign examines her Rage Knight. “Did Fitchner violate his oath as a Proctor and cheat at the Mars Institute, as rumor would have me believe?”

“Yes,” I say, watching the Oracle instead of my old Proctor. “He cheated like the rest.” I know Fitchner would not have gained this post were she not sure of his loyalty to her and not Augustus, which means Fitchner must have come clean and supplied her with details of Augustus’s ill dealings. I glance back at the man. “Though I don’t know if he was paid like the others.”

“He wasn’t. Their mistake,” the Sovereign says. “Gave us video evidence. Audio. Bank statements. Useful leverage against each Proctor.”

Sevro must have given his father the video footage when I had him tinkering with it. Crafty little bastard. He actually does care about his father, after all. Augustus would kill them both if he knew about the duplicity.

“Who would have thought,” I say. “Machiavelli himself.” He just shrugs.

I want to interrogate the Sovereign about military outposts. Supply lines. Operational imperatives and security measures. But I know that would be strange. It would lead to her asking strange questions of her own. The Oracle tightens slightly on my arm, sucking out only tiny drops of blood at a time. I don’t know how well this thing can sense untruths. But what do I do if she asks me where I was born? Who my father is? Why I rub dirt between my fingers before I fight? Shit. She could just ask me if I’m a Red. But how would she ever think to do that unless I gave her the sense that something was … off about me?

“Are any in my inner circle your spies?” I ask.

“Very clever. No. Where did you go with Victra au Julii three days ago? And what did you do?” the Sovereign asks.

“To Lost City.” Somehow, the Oracle senses I’m holding back. Its stinger trembles with excitement. “To meet the Jackal—Augustus’s son.” It tightens further. “To form an alliance.” Sweat beads on my collar and the Oracle relaxes, the answer sufficient. “Why do they call Lorn Stoneside?”

“He didn’t tell you? It’s not because he’s tough as stone like they’d tell you now. It’s because on campaign in the Moon Rebellion, he was famous for eating anything. And one day a Gray bet him he couldn’t eat stones. Lorn doesn’t back down. When did Lorn teach you?”

“Every morning before first light, between my graduation from the Institute and enrollment at the Academy.”

“Incredible no one found out.”

“How many Peerless Scarred are there?” I ask. “Census data is so hard to come by.” The Board of Quality Control is monstrous in hoarding its high-level material.

“There are 132,689, for nearly 40 million Golds. Why did Lorn take you as a student?”

“Because he thinks we’re the same sort of man. What are your two greatest fears?”

“Octavia …,” Aja warns.

“Shut up, Aja. All’s fair.” She looks over to Lysander and smiles. “My greatest fear is that my grandson will grow up to be like my father. The second is the inevitability of age. Why did you cry when you killed Julian au Bellona?”

“Because he was kinder than the world let him be. Did you arrange Virginia and Cassius’s courtship?”

“No. It was her idea.”

I’d held on to hope that it was something arranged, something she had to do.

“Why did you sing the Red ballad to Virginia at the Institute?”

“Because she forgot the words, and I think it the saddest song ever sung.” I pause before my next question.

“You want to ask about Virginia again, don’t you?” The corners of her lips twitch with pleasure as she plucks my pain. “Do you want to know if I’ll give her to you if you join me? It’s possible.”

“She is not a thing to be given,” I say.

She laughs, amused at my innocence. “If you say so.”

“Where are the three Deep Space Command Centers?” I ask recklessly.

She gives me the coordinates without blinking. “How did you know the words to the Reaping Song?”

“I heard it as a boy. And I forget little.”

“Where?”

“It’s not your turn,” I remind her. “Why are you asking me these questions?”

“Because one of my Furies has led me to suspect the Sons of Ares are perhaps something different than we imagined. Something more dangerous. Who is Ares?”

My heart thunders.

“I don’t know.” I watch the Oracle’s tail. It doesn’t move. “Who you do think Ares is?”

“Your master.”

“Thirty-nine, forty-two, fifty-six …,” Aja says.