Page 65 of The Rebel's Prize

"Not that well. She was older. And I always thought she had...well, an unpleasant streak. One of those girls who is sweet on the surface but nasty if you cross them. Imogene and I avoided her where we could."

"I'm familiar with the type," he said. "It's not that uncommon in people who commit crimes. They seem to lack...I don't know, the part of you that lets you see other people as real and not just pieces to be moved around the game board to suit your own purposes."

She nodded. "Yes, something like that. She seemed to feel that things should always turn out precisely how she wanted them, and it made her angry when they didn't. As though she was more important than other people. You see it in aristos, too. It's not just mages."

Lucien nodded. "I can't argue with that. But we're not all that way."

"No." She reached out and laid her hand over his. "You're not. So don't take any silly risks?"

"I won't." His head tilted a moment. "Are you ready?"

The nerves fluttering in her stomach suggested not, but she nodded anyway. It wouldn't get any easier if she delayed. Besides, her desire to get to the bottom of the plots that had upended her life was stronger than her hesitance.

"Absolutely."

* * *

The barracks' brig was nothing like the dauntingly grim stone building that housed Lumia's main prison, but Chloe's palms started to sweat at the sight of the soldier guarding the barred outer door.

She tightened her hold on the bond. Lucien was focused, and she didn't think she'd given herself away yet. He would have stopped if he was catching any hint of distress.

Not Charl.Her fingers curled into her palms, and she fought to relax them.

Not Charl. No one was about to be executed. At least not tonight. What happened once they returned to Lumia and the judiciary made a verdict about any of the prisoner's involvement was out of her hands. And most importantly of all, perhaps, Lucien didn't think she had anything to do with this.

Was that what she was really worried about? That Deandra might somehow convince him that Chloe was part of the conspiracy?

Foolish. Lucien loved her. He'd reformed their bond.

That didn't mean Deandra couldn't toy with him, of course. Accuse Chloe in the hopes of saving her own skin, knowing Lucien's strongest magic was somewhat handicapped by the memory charms.

Setting her teeth as the guard saluted them and unlocked the door, she then followed Lucien inside.

As jails went, it wasn't as bad as she had feared. It was sparse, the wooden floors and white walls matching the rest of the barracks. There were no windows, the only light coming from lanterns hanging from the ceiling, both over the desk and in front of each of the three small cells that lined the back third of the room. They had solid sides, but the front walls were bars rather than the iron doors set in stone of Lumia's prison.

Wards shimmered over nearly every surface. She distracted herself trying to identify them. Locks, of course, and aural wards, as well as others she didn't entirely recognize but guessed might be some kind of ward against magic itself.

Deandra occupied the left-hand cell and the illusioner the right, with the middle one kept empty.

Both prisoners were watching Chloe and Lucien. Their hands were shackled in front of them, but otherwise they looked normal, still in the clothes Octarus had seen them in. Istvan seemed nervous, though not particularly so. In contrast, Deandra's brow creased, her mouth twisting angrily as she recognized Chloe. Chloe just stared back steadily. Deandra's eyes dropped first.

Yes. I found you. Now let's see who's so clever.

To the right of the door was a large desk where a lieutenant sat, filling out a stack of forms. He climbed to his feet, one hand smoothing his sandy hair before he saluted. "Major de Roche," he said politely. "Lieutenant de Roche. Have you come to speak with the prisoners?"

"Yes," Lucien said.

"Very well, sir." The lieutenant nodded toward Deandra's cell. There was a door leading out of the room in the left-hand wall. "I'm Lieutenant Usiel. We have a...well, it's not a proper interrogation room by judiciary standards, but it's private and secure. Your choice, sir—you can talk to them in the cells or in there."

Lucien contemplated the door. "Is there any way to observe the room from outside?"

The lieutenant shook his head. "Sorry, sir. It's not an official interrogation room as I said. There's no mirrored glass."

Chloe didn't know exactly what he meant. She'd never been inside one of the judiciary's interrogation rooms. When Lucien had spoken to her after Charl was arrested, he had at least shown her the courtesy of doing so at home with her father and Martius as witnesses.

"And there are aural wards on the cells?" Lucien asked.

"Yes, sir. The prisoners can't hear anything that happens outside their own cells. And they have no way of seeing into the others. We usually only have people in here for short periods of time, and it's often useful to keep them isolated."

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