Page 152 of The Infernal Battalion

“Would you want to know more about it, if you could?”

Winter shrugged. “I suppose so. I’ve never thought much about it. Most of the girls at the Prison had the same basic story—​families who were dead, or in jail for debts, or petty criminals.”

“There is... a little more to it.” Sothe shifted on the bed. “Your parents are dead, but they were not criminals. They were labeled as traitors by the Concordat, but that was... a lie.”

“Wait. You know? How? Where did you find out?”

“I was asked to investigate.” Sothe took a deep breath. “You know I once worked for the Last Duke.”

“I’d gathered that,” Winter said carefully.

“When the Cobweb burned, the primary records of the Concordat were lost. But there were—​are—​backups, duplicates. Partial, but still extensive, scattered in various safehouses and secondary headquarters. I imagine there’s almost no one left who has the proper ciphers, but I do. I went looking.”

“Who asked you to look?”

“I’ll come to that,” Sothe said. “I found your records. I have your history—​your real name, your family. If you want it.”

Winter stared at her for a moment in silence. Sothe looked away.

“The trouble,” the assassin said, “is that I... owe this person, the one who asked me to look. But when I found it, I realized I owed you, too. I can’t just deliver up your secrets without asking you.”

“That hardly seems like a Concordat attitude,” Winter muttered.

“I have learned... quite a lot from Raesinia,” Sothe said. She sounded earnest. “I believe this is part of it. So, if you want me to, I will destroy what I have learned. I cannot promise that it will not come to light in some other way, but it seems unlikely. Your past will remain unknown. Or else I can give it to you and leave the rest of the choices in your hands.”

There was another long pause.

“Balls of the Beast,” Winter said. “This is making my head hurt.”

“It is a common issue in the intelligence business,” Sothe said. “There is information you might wish not to know. But you cannot decide whether you wish not to know it until you know it. And so on.”

“Well. You’d better tell me. Otherwise this is going to drive me insane.”

Sothe let out a breath. “As you wish. Your parents were upper-​class Vordan City merchants. They owned property and businesses that the Last Duke wanted for his own interests. He directed his agents to kill your family and make it look accidental.”

“Fire,” Winter said. “There was a fire, wasn’t there?”

Sothe nodded. “There was. You were four years old. Your parents were killed, but a dedicated servant got you out of the building in time. She suspected the Concordat were involved, and hid from the authorities. By the time we found you again, she had placed you at Mrs. Wilmore’s. She died not long afterward.”

“Is that all?” Winter gave a nervous laugh. “I thought you were going to tell me I was the lost princess of Borel or something.”

“You had an older brother,” Sothe said. “He was away from the house that day, at the War College.”

“A brother?” Something in Winter’s stomach churned. “Is he still alive?”

“Yes,” Sothe said. “Your name at birth was Ellie d’Ivoire. Marcus is your older brother.”

*

It felt like an eternity passed, though Winter supposed it could only have been a couple of seconds. She blinked, and swallowed on a suddenly dry throat.

“Marcus?” she said. “Our Marcus?”

“Yes.”

“But he’s... older.”

“By a decade.”