the sable spy

CHAPTER FIVE,

THE SABLE SPY | CHAPTER FIVE

  "I AM A PRISONER," Cassalyn loudly announced at breakfast two days later, sauntering into the room. Her bandaged arm swung around beside her, hurting but not enough for her to be heavily inconvenienced. She'd suffered much worse. After much haggling and generally making a nuisance of herself, they had begrudgingly allowed her to leave her comfortable but quickly tiring spot on the sickbed. She spent the next twenty-four hours stumbling around the house she spent so many years in, waiting for the boys to come back from their second attempt at gathering information on her mysterious assassin.

Cadieux ignored her. Laurence looked up, faintly amused, a small smile dancing on his lips. Marcus was deeply engrossed in some newspaper. She glanced at the other people in the room. There was little Benjamin, who would no doubt become a dangerous spy in a few years, but for now resembled more an adorable, excitable little toddler. Perhaps not, since he was already seventeen and as tall as Marcus, but it felt that way to her, and that was all she cared about. Seylace's usual seat was empty, only a half-finished coffee cup left behind. Georgie would frown about that later.

"Would you prefer going out and getting shot?" Marcus finally asked after a moment of silence, glancing up from the paper.

"I would prefer not having to read about old dead men from thousands of years ago telling me how I must think and live." Most of the books in the house were philosophy or history. Boring things. Cadieux's, most likely.

"And I would greatly love if someone refurbished this damned ugly dining room, but we don't always get what we want, do we?" Laurence sounded from across the room as Cass slumped into her seat next to Cadieux, who was staring into his food as if he hadn't heard a word. "Four days, my dear Cass, and you get to prance around a beautiful ballroom as people gawk, point and stare at you. Is that what you want?"

"You forget to mention the fact that I'd most probably have a rifle pointed at my heart. But yes, Dumont. I think I'd prefer even that to this cursed boredom. It feels like purgatory."

"One would think you'd be more familiar with the feeling of hell," Marcus muttered under his breath. Being tactful and elegant, they all chose to ignore him. It seemed to be something they all did a lot, ignoring people.

"I have made a list of people who might be this Saian noblemen," Cass told them. "But none of them quite fit. If one has motive to kill me, they don't have a reason to try such a deal with Gana. Or they don't have the resources to do so. Or the profit they should have gotten from it does not match their lifestyle. I do not suppose any of you have any luck?"

"Turns out, a lot of Saians came to Caling this year for the social season. We have a comprehensive list, I think. I'll show it to you later. You can compare it to your own," Laurence said.

Little Benjamin raised his eyebrow. "Have any of you considered the possibility that this Saian is not in Arecia at all? Or chose not to reveal to everyone that they're here?"

"Of course we have, we're not idiots," Cass snorted. "But whoever is doing this knows I'm hard to kill. Most likely, realising how dire the situation was, they'd have come to make sure the job is done by themselves. Even if they are not, they would know I was at the Vallerings' ball soon enough and realise I am very much alive and happily breathing. They'd try to finish the job."

"They'd be expecting it," Cadieux muttered. "That's what worries me. They'd know it was a trap. There's many ways to kill one girl, Cass, especially if someone is ruthless and idiotic."

"I'll stay away from the windows," she offered. "Maybe you should test all my food."

"If they're clever enough to kill her here, they'll manage it, no matter what we try to stop them." Marcus sounded very disturbed. "Let's pray to god we're dealing with someone less skilled."