Page 29 of The Poison Daughter
She turns to leave. I’m losing her, and I need to know more.
“Who is Rochelli?” The question comes out before I can stop it.
It has the desired effect.
She spins on me. “What did you say?”
The rebellion has them rattled enough that a Carrenwell has stopped to see what I’ll say about him. Clearly, I’m going to need to find this man and maybe even help him.
“I heard a few men talking about him at the bar last night before we met,” I say.
“What did they say?”
I rub the back of my neck, trying to figure out how much to share. I have her hooked, but I don’t want to surrender all my leverage. “I assumed at first that it was just drunken ramblings. Those without magic love the idea of someone evening the score for them.” I wait.
She sighs impatiently. “But?”
“But then they said he was gaining ground in the city—becoming more popular with the common people than your family. They’re tired of the blood tax and they say he’s going to get you to abolish it.”
She crosses her arms. “Of course they would say that. The common folk love a fairy tale. It makes them believe they could be more than ordinary.”
I can’t tell if she actually believes that or if she’s been conditioned to respond that way.
She blinks and winces. She opens her eyes wide and then narrows them on me.
“Are you well?” I ask.
“I’m fine,” she says, but her eyes remain squinted and she rubs hertemple lightly. A smirk splits her face as she glances around us. “Well, I’ve enjoyed our little chat, but I must be getting back. This is the center of the maze. Hope you can find your way out.”
I turn, and, sure enough, we’ve reached a circular alcove with six paths leading in different directions.
She tosses my jacket at me and gives a mischievous glance at the trail to her left. She’s going to run from me.
“Harlow, don’t.” My heart kicks up, blood pounding in my ears.
Her eyes light with mischief. “Why not?”
I grab her arm. “Don’t ever run from me.”
For a moment, she’s frozen there, her eyes far away and then focused, and she looks murderous as she yanks her arm away. “Why?”
“Because I’ll chase you.”
She arches a brow. “Wow, you wild forest huntsmen really commit to the feral thing, huh? Do you still do all those fancy blood rituals and wild forest orgies to Kennymyra?”
“I’m serious.”
She takes a step away, her gaze darting down the path. A cold wind blows her hair forward, but I can still see the mischievous smile on her lips through the dark, shining strands. “What happens when you catch me?”
I grind my teeth, trying to keep control of my temper. Why can’t she just listen? “If you trust me on nothing else, please trust me on this—you do not want to know.”
She frowns and still looks poised to run.
“So, will we be venturing out again this evening? More victims on your list?” I ask, knowing this is my absolute last chance to change the direction of this interaction.
She crosses her arms. “That’s none of your business, and you need not worry about my nighttime antics until you’ve said your vows. You cannot speak of it to anyone.”
I close the space between us, and her hand skims the place where her blade rests on her thigh.
