The Midnight Lie (The Midnight Lie #1)(82)

“My home?” She looked at me blankly. “This is my mistress’s home.”

It hadn’t even occurred to me that the woman could be a servant. My shoulders hunched. I felt the worn grief that comes when you deceive yourself into thinking that what you fear isn’t true, and then are struck with the fact that it is.

“Please,” she whispered, “don’t tell her I answered the door looking so unkempt. She is very particular. I had no idea she was expecting someone of your kith.”

“Take me to her,” I said, and she led me through elegant rooms to Raven, who was drinking a pot of pink tea, her skin smoother than I had ever seen it, her hair a rich dark brown. A porcelain plate bearing sugared flowers rested on a frail table. She had just placed a flower in her mouth when she saw me enter the room. Her face slackened in surprise. A hand went to her throat, touching the gold chain of the necklace that disappeared beneath her batiste dress fringed with simple lace. She looked caught in the middle of a crime.

“Oh,” she said.

“You used me,” I said quietly.

She ordered her expression into one of delight. “My dear Nirrim!” She stood and embraced me, kissing my cheek, and pulled me down to sit beside her on the lilac jacquard sofa. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Never mind. We will sort it all out, you and your ama. So that arrogant foreign lady has released you from her service, has she? Well, good riddance! I never liked her. But what a fine dress she has given you. This blue makes your green eyes so brilliant. You are not allowed to wear such a hue, you know that, but here”—she leaned forward with a conspiring whisper—“we can do as we please, you and I. You there,” she snapped at the maid. “Why are you standing about? Leave at once. My daughter and I wish to speak in private.”

“Daughter?” I said numbly as the young woman scuttled from the room.

“Well, no, not really, but in a manner of speaking, are you not? Didn’t I raise you and make you everything that you are? Look at how lovely you are. High living suits you, I must say. It would suit me, too, with a bit of your help. But no more of that! Pleasure before business! Have some of these sugared flowers. I know my girl has a sweet tooth. I’ve kept these on hand, just for you, for the day that you would finally see your new home. I wasn’t quite prepared for today to be the day, but no matter.”

Feeling as though I were made of stone, I put a flower into my mouth. Obedience was a familiar act in a deeply unfamiliar situation. The flower crumbled and melted. I felt an urge to spit it out, to vomit it onto my lap, but Raven was looking at me so expectantly, so proudly. “Thank you,” I managed.

“That is my good girl. I don’t suppose that High lady gave you what she promised me.”

“Promised?”

“Now, Nirrim, don’t be daft. The gold, my girl.”

“I have this.” I offered her the small purse of gold. “I won it for you.”

“This is but a fraction of what she promised! That sneaking foreign cheat. She had best have left Ethin already, or we shall have our revenge, shall we not? No need to tell me how it was in her service, my lamb. I will never ask. No, no. I respect your privacy. I understand what we must sometimes do for money. If she made you do things you did not want, why, how could you refuse? Forget it all. You are with me now. I will take care of you.”

“You will?”

“Of course! Nirrim, what is wrong with you? You are acting like someone has knocked all the brains out of your head. Do try to keep up.”

“You lied to me,” I choked out.

“Lied? I did no such thing.”

“You told me we were helping people.”

She spread her hands in helpless impatience. “We did help people.”

“You took their money.”

“Well, of course. I have to live, don’t I?”

“You don’t have to live like this.”

“I don’t like your tone. Who are you to judge me? You never had to worry about anything. Without me, you would have become Un-Kith. Who raised you? Me. Who put food on your plate? Me. Who saved you from the orphanage? Me. I didn’t expect such a lack of gratitude from you.” She placed a hand on her heart. “It cuts me to the quick.”

“Stop,” I said. “Stop it! You’re acting like you didn’t make me believe for years that we were forging passports only out of kindness.”

“It was a kindness, and we got paid for it. I see no wrong in that.”

“There is no we. You have been taking the money.”

“Oh, I see. You want a cut of it. Well.” She busied herself pouring a cup of pink tea. “I can’t say that I am pleased by your greed. My plan was always to share everything with you. There is no need to be so demanding. Here.” She offered me the cup.

I dashed it from her hand.

“Nirrim!”

“That’s blood. You are drinking someone’s blood!”

“You are completely hysterical. Calm yourself right now, or you will answer to my hand. Blood! Nonsense. It is simply a drink that will make you prettier. I am being nice to you, and this is the thanks I get.”

“I am telling you the truth.”

She sighed impatiently. “Need we worry about everything? Am I supposed to never eat, out of pity for all the poor animals and plants that must die to feed me? Am I supposed to give everything I have to people who have less? Am I supposed to work for free? If there is blood in the tea, it surely can’t be much, given the color. It’s not as if someone died.”