“We just returned to the guest wing.” Eugene isn’t lying; he’s just leaving out the part where Enver arrested him for looking like a dead man.
“And then what?”
Eugene bristles. “And then you told me about my parents.”
“I’ll tell you more when you say something worth knowing,” Torch growls.
“Not much of a deal, then, is it?” Eugene barbs. “What’s to stop you from deciding nothing I say is good enough?”
“He does have a point,” rumbles a voice—the same deep, smooth one that mentioned his resemblance yesterday. “Perhaps we might set some tangible benchmarks.”
Torch snorts. “I don’t need your help—”
Eugene makes an executive decision to cut to the chase. “So is this really the People’s Dagger?”
The room goes quiet.
Finally, Torch asks, deadly calm, “How do you know that name?”
“I’ll tell you,” Eugene says at peak smarm, “when you say something worth knowing.”
“Just give the boy something already,” the unnamed voice snips.
There’s a scrape and rustle that sounds like pacing. Torch sighs. After a long beat, they speak. “Your parents, Marietta and Andreas, owned and ran the printshop you saw.”
“Herbert & Fitz.” Eugene’s pulse rises. He remembers Enver snarling,I knew Marietta got away.
So that much is true. Andreas and Marietta. Their names feel odd, distant, as personal as a street sign.
Torch continues, “They wroteThe Tales of Flynnigan Riderunder a pen name, A. Drew Rothar, and printed the book themselves.”
“Which is apparently banned?” Eugene asks.
“Which Enver banned after the Night—” Torch’s voice catches and stops.
“…of the Poisoned Dagger,” Eugene finishes, numb.
It’s all real, then.
His parents really were part of a rebellion. They betrayed the king and queen. They may be the reason Third Street Hospital is overflowing even now.
His parents were traitors to the throne.
And how far can one apple land from the tree?
Forget sticking around after they return home. Eugene’s not even sure he’ll be let back on the ship.
“What did they tell you?” Torch asks.
Eugene flatly repeats everything Enver told them this morning. There should be no harm in that; it sounds like every Asteran knows the story, after all. But he can hear Torch pacing again, their footfalls scraping harder against the floor with Eugene’s every word.
“He’s lying,” they bark when Eugene’s done. “He’s been lying for years.”
“Where’s the lie?” Eugene asks.
But Torch just says, “I need to talk to the others and figure out what to do with you.”
“We’re not releasing them?” queries the mysterious other voice.
