Page 67 of The Rebel's Prize

Lucien shrugged. "That remains to be proven. Easy enough to find out, of course, where your travels have taken you. Your troupe has quite the reputation, and I'm sure we can trace it through the networks of theaters. It shouldn't be that hard to establish. No doubt the theater’s owners will be all too eager to cooperate when we mention we're investigating treason."

Which would thoroughly ruin the troupe's chances of ever finding work again. A fact that didn't escape Istvan. His mouth flattened. "You'd ruin me for no reason."

"My loyalty is to the emperor. Protecting him is reason enough. I'm sure if you are proven innocent, he would offer an apology. Maybe some recompense. All in all, this will go easier on everyone if you simply tell me the truth. We could start with your name."

"You seem to know that already."

"Humor me," Lucien said in an entirely humorless voice.

"Istvan Vargas."

"Very well."

Lucien turned for a moment, glancing back at the lieutenant, who was already scribbling notes.

"And where are you from?"

Istvan named a town Chloe didn't recognize.

"And that's in Partha?" Lucien prompted.

Istvan nodded.

"Thank you," Lucien said. "So, since you say you haven't been to Lumia, let us start with something that may be more familiar to you."

He straightened his shoulders a moment and then waved his hand over his face in a familiar gesture, casting the illusion spell once more.

Istvan bumped back into the wall he was shackled to, his face twisting in genuine shock. "Who taught you how to do that?"

"Recognize the spell, do you?"

"I invented it," Istvan said, "for my troupe. I've only taught it to a few people."

"Yes, well, one of them taught it to a friend of mine who works at the opera in Lumia. Which would have been of no interest at all to the Imperial Truth Seekers until people using the same magic attacked the parliament. Mestier Vargas, how about we start with the names of everyone you think you've taught the spell to?"

CHAPTER15

It was difficult to keep track of time during an interrogation. But it didn't take Lucien long to realize that Istvan wasn’t going to break easily. The Parthan kept his answers short and to the point, not offering any additional information. Almost as though he'd been questioned before and knew how best to get through it.

According to Lucien's magic, Istvan believed what he was saying. The only useful thing he'd really gotten out of the man was a confirmation that he and Deandra were lovers.

Even when Lucien transitioned from simple queries about his background to more specific questions about the troupe's movements for the last year, there wasn't even the faintest suggestion of a lie.

Which meant they might have a bigger problem than first anticipated.

He glanced back to Chloe, who had observed the whole process silently. If she was uncomfortable standing in a cell, she showed no hint. For a moment, his memory of her face just before she'd stepped inside Charl's cell to say her final goodbye hit him, his gut twisting with remembered guilt.

She blinked suddenly, as though she'd felt something of that, though they were both keeping as tight a grip on the bond as they could.

"I think that's enough," he said, nodding toward the cell door. "Get the lieutenant's attention and have him open the door."

She nodded, and he saw Octarus blink back into view beside Lieutenant Usiel. The sanctii said something they couldn't hear, and the lieutenant reached for the key he'd laid on his desk.

Lucien turned his attention back to Istvan. "Anything else you want to tell me before we transport you to Lumia for further questioning?"

"No," Istvan said.

Clearly the man was smart enough to know there was no point in objecting to the news that he would be taken to Lumia if he had nothing to offer that might help his case.

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