INFINITY ✞ J. DEVORAK

II: THE TRUTH.

II: THE TRUTH.

An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of them. Irina rose from her seat, putting some distance between her and Julian. The rings and necklace suddenly felt painfully glacial against her skin. Julian was still as relaxed as he had been when they'd first sat down—he drained the last of the wine from the goblet and swiftly poured himself another round.

"You murdered someone," Irina stated breathily, a shudder coursing through her thin body, "I need to go. Thanks for the..."

She gestured wildly to the half-eaten loaf of bread and pitcher of wine on the table, then went for the door. As her hand grazed the brass metal of the door handle, Julian spoke, his tone low and cool. "Prove it."

Irina turned around, frowning. "Prove it?"

He nodded. "Yes. What evidence does the Countess have against me? Or anyone, for that matter? I didn't kill the Count, he was already burning when I—"

Julian noticed her expression of disgust and contempt, and ceased his defenses. "Ah, but you've already made up your mind, haven't you?"

She didn't reply. "Well, I will say this: your body is weak, you are hungry, dehydrated and your immune system is nonexistent. If a plague beetle so much as scuttled over your foot, you'd be bedridden and terminal with the Plague within the hour. The Red Plague is not cured, you know."

Irina scoffed. "You think I don't know that? Why do you think I do what I do and look like this?"

It was Julian's turn to remain quiet. The previously steely and distant look in his eyes softened to something not too far from sympathy. "You know, you don't have to live like that..."

Her rage flared, and she took a threatening step toward him, holding the stolen ring tightly between her thumb and forefinger. "See this? I'm going to sell this, because if I don't, this'll mark the third week in a row where I haven't eaten. Tonight, I seduced a man at the fountain. For all I know, I might have stripped him of his family heirlooms!"

"Heirlooms, indeed..." He echoed as he peered closely at it, then sharply pulled back, a hint of recognition in his grey eyes. "What color were his eyes?"

"What an odd question," she said, furrowing her brow at him and pulling a face...but when he didn't backtrack, she responded, "Purple, I think. Or maybe a very odd shade of blue, but I'm fairly certain they were purple—"

"You..." Julian breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. If she hadn't been standing so close to him, she wouldn't have heard him. Then, he burst out laughing. "You mugged Asra! Ha!"

Irina blinked slowly, taken aback by his reaction. She lowered the ring, gripping it tightly in her palm as her fingers folded over it. "Tell me, what else did you steal from him? That wretched neck cuff, perhaps? Or some tomes?"

Her hand hesitated for a moment before reaching into her bra and pulling out the rings and necklaces she'd taken from the man called Asra, and held it out to Julian. He began to laugh again—a deep, sonorous sound. Pleasant, nonetheless. "You must be a damn good thief if you managed to steal all that from a witch!"

She shrugged, withdrawing her hand. Witches were a dime a dozen in this town, and most of them were frauds. Julian eyed her thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "Say...what's your name, thief?"