The Mask of Mirrors by M. Carrick; (different e readers txt) 📕

winning arguments with her brother’s friends—all of them older and more experienced—but after a moment’s stillness, Sibiliat relaxed and began stroking Giuna’s hair. “Perhaps nothing. Perhaps I only think I’m looking in a mirror darkly. She returned a ring? I suppose it was expensive.”

“I guess so. But the sentimental value is what mattered. It belonged to my grandmother.”

“That was… very kind of her.” The pause said what Sibiliat didn’t: that kindness could also be calculated. “Did Letilia steal many things when she left? I wonder where they all went.”

Giuna shrugged. “I doubt we’ll ever get the rest of it back. Renata might have a few more pieces, but I don’t think Mother will order her to turn out her jewelry box so we can search. The ring was the only one Mother truly missed.”

“Yes, but those things belonged to your family. If Renata wants to do the same, she shouldn’t hold back.” Sibiliat groaned and shifted upright, easing out of the uncomfortable position they’d gradually slumped into. “And if I want to avoid Leato challenging me to a duel, we should return. Gossip won’t care that we only held hands, and Leato will know that—” She bit her lip to stop the words.

“That?” Giuna prodded.

The bitten lip gave way to a faint smile. “That I wanted more.”

“Oh.” Then her mind echoed: Oh. Giuna’s face heated. And it wasn’t until she was back out in the rest of the house that she realized everyone else would see the blush, and gossip even more.

Isla Traementis, the Pearls: Equilun 11

“You were right to be suspicious of Alta Renata,” Grey said to Era Traementis. “Just not for the reasons you thought.”

The morning light streamed through the windows of Donaia’s study, cold and bright. He’d come to her straight from the offices of House Pattumo and found her already at work. She hadn’t lit the fire laid in the hearth, though, and the air lay like ice against his cheek.

“Not Indestor?” Her breath clouded the air. “Who then? Simendis? Destaelio? Who’s paying her?”

“Nobody,” Grey said. “She’s not as wealthy as she pretends. She spends extravagantly but lives frugally. The house isn’t staffed, apart from that one maid, and more often than not, she dines out—so long as others are buying.”

Grey could almost see the ledger in Donaia’s mind, figures crossed out and new ones scribbled in, recalculating what she knew of Renata Viraudax. She huddled in on herself, warding against the cold. As if she didn’t have burdens enough, without this young woman adding to them. Leather creaked as his hands balled into fists.

“There’s an issue with her letter of credit, too,” he went on. “I just came from talking to Mede Pattumo.”

Donaia’s brow furrowed. “Odd. I would expect her to bank with someone who has better contacts in Seteris.”

“I think she avoided that on purpose. Better contacts with Seteris means that confirmation comes through more quickly—or in her case, refusal.” Grey put a hand up as Donaia’s attention jerked to him. “They haven’t shut her down yet. She’s persuaded them it’s some kind of clerical error; they’ve extended her credit and sent again to Seteris.” He estimated she had maybe two months before there would be a reckoning with her bankers. Though it depended on how good she was at talking them in circles.

Which meant she might very well be able to buy more time. “She puts up a good front,” he added. “Too good—which makes me think she’s had to do this before.”

Donaia rose as if to pace, and Meatball scrambled to his feet beside her. She rested a hand on the dog’s shoulder—perhaps to hold him back, or to hold herself upright. “But… I questioned her about Letilia. She knows her.”

“She may be Letilia’s daughter, but… Leato’s told me about his aunt. Is it possible she didn’t land in the feathers after all? That Alta Renata learned from her mother how to put on a show? That she came here hoping House Traementis could provide the luxury she was raised to believe she deserved?”

Now Donaia moved with slow, unsteady steps. Grey held his silence, letting her think. House Traementis had suffered so many losses and setbacks—not just Gianco’s death and Letilia’s flight, but an array of mishaps and illnesses picking off their aunts, uncles, cousins—and through it all, Donaia had been the one to hold the dwindling house together, even before she was their official head. He wasn’t surprised to see her back straighten, her balance grow steady. She didn’t accept anything without a fight.

“What can the Vigil do?” she asked crisply, turning to face him. “This woman has lied to me and my family, and spent money she doesn’t possess. Surely there must be some grounds upon which you can arrest her.”

“At this point? Nothing.” At least, nothing Grey was willing to do, not even for Donaia and Leato. Planted evidence and falsified charges might be the way of things in the Vigil—not to mention how House Traementis had brought down enemies in the past—but Grey had seen those tools used against too many of his people to ever reach for them himself. “She hasn’t committed any offenses that we know of.”

“But debt—” Donaia caught herself before finishing the sentence. “She isn’t yet a debtor. Not until Mede Pattumo issues an ultimatum, and she’s forced to admit she can’t repay him.” Her fingers drummed against her thigh.

“Yes, and that will take at least a month, likely more. I don’t think you should wait that long. Leato and Giuna are already fond of her. After losing so many cousins…”

Grey had faced duels, riots, and attempts to knife him in the back. The sudden fury in Donaia’s eyes unsettled him more than all of them.

“If she thinks she can come here and suck us dry,” Donaia said grimly, “then she’s about to find out how wrong she is.”

Isla Traementis, the Pearls: Equilun 12

The moment Renata walked into Era Traementis’s study, she