Page 56 of A Weave of Lies
Her back hit the tent’s central beam. The sensation of the wooden pole against her spine felt uncomfortably close to being tied to a pyre.
“Shhh, listen. Listen to me,” the inquisitor drawled. “Do not. Do not stop fearing me. I would kill you; I would really do it. I have killed before for less than that. If I had—shhh, do not struggle.”
She hadn’t—horror was what had shaken her limbs.
“If I’d had a single doubt about you,” he continued, “I would have done it. Still might. I swore an oath to the Inquisition, and I will uphold it. Even if … even if it costs me.”
With uncharacteristic gentleness, Estevan cradled her face with his hands. His thumbs wiped traitorous tears away from her eyes. “I do not enjoy it, but I will be your doom if you let me. Do not. You must fear me. You must stay wary.” Brow furrowed, he whispered, “Please, I beg of you.”
Semras searched his eyes for something, anything, that could give her some insight into the unpredictable man. Into who he was,trulywas, beneath his oath.
She found none.
“Why did you lie about being ordered to consult a witch?” she murmured.
“I-I …” he stammered. Something deep in his eyes still kept his guard up.
Despite the violence of his actions, Estevan didn’t feel threatening. She had never seen him so open, so vulnerable before. Alcohol had broken down a wall surrounding him, yet it still wasn’t enough to make him admit his secrets.
With his defence weakened like that, reaching into his mind for the answers would be trivial. Decency and morality had never limited the Bleak Path, after all.
But she couldn’t do it. Beyond her fear of the Inquisition’s wrath, she dreaded losing herself to the Bleak far more. Dreadedhow she almost had when the inquisitor walked into her hut. The Bleak Path had felt like her only option back then.
No. It had felt like theeasiestoption. How fast she’d been tempted sickened her. The Inquisition’s ruthless hunting of her kind must have created so many bleakwitches out of suspected innocents.
She could have become one of them so easily.
But she wouldn’t falter tonight. She’d wait for the inquisitor to word his own answer out. And it would have to suffice.
“What are you hiding from me, Estevan?” she asked softly.
His shoulders fell. “So much … I hide so much, and it weighs on my mind so heavily,” Estevan replied at last. “I cannot trust anyone, not even my oldest friends. Not for this case.”
“What’s so special about it?”
“Not special, just … too personal. I have so much to lose. That … that is why I …” He stared into her eyes. “… I need you.”
Semras looked away, mind fluttering. It was a lie, she told herself, just like all the other lies he had spoken since they first met.
And he probably didn’t mean itthatway—no matter how the loneliness in his voice resonated with the one in her heart.
“What for?” she asked, voice low.
Estevan smiled softly. “To give me hope. You are clever, willful. You will tell me that I am wrong about the poison, and I will trust you. I want to be wrong; I want you to lie to me. And if you do not, and I am not …” His eyes blurred, lost to fatigue, then refocused on her lips. “You … you scared me today. So, so much … I thought you were compromised. But you are not. You are not, right?” he begged, voice hoarse and pleading.
Her own held a mix of resolve and … something else she dared not dwell upon. “No, I am not. I won’t lose my Path. This I promise to you, Estevan.”
“My name, who told you …? Y-You should not use it. It will bring you trouble.” The inquisitor nuzzled his face in her neck. “You smell like me. Do not do this again. You are making this so much more difficult.”
Semras huffed but didn’t push him away. “I assure you, I have learned that lesson very well by now.”
Melting against her, he chuckled fondly.
It was so hard to believe he had someone waiting for him when he looked at her like that. But he did.
And it was so hard remembering he was a liar when he smiled at her like that. But he was.
“Who’s Nimue?” she breathed.
