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I look back at my plate. The worst part is that I can see Corrick saying that. He lay on that bed and let me stitch up his eyebrow so he could listen for more information. Of course he’d choose a cold cell over angering a consul who could endanger the entire country.
“He wouldn’t say much else,” Harristan says carefully. “But I brought you here in the hopes that you would.”
I glance back up and meet his eyes. “That I would what?”
“That you would tell me what he’s been doing.”
I go very still. This is the trap.
Harristan is studying me. “I’m not asking you to betray him.”
I look away.
“There are very few people I trust,” he says. “But Corrick is one of them. He trusts you. That carries weight with me.”
I don’t know what to say. This still feels like a betrayal.
Harristan leans in against the table. His tone is beseeching. “You said yourself that I have to know it’s destroying him. I don’t know. I should know.” He pauses. “Help me to know.”
He means that. I can hear it in every syllable. Corrick doesn’t want to be cruel. This man doesn’t either.
A tear slips out of my eye, but this time there’s no anger behind it. Only sorrow. Oh, Corrick. I don’t know what the right decision is.
“If he’s trying so hard to protect me,” says Harristan, “perhaps I should have the chance to do the same for him.”
Thathits me like an arrow. I look up and meet his eyes. “I can only tell you half of it,” I say, and my voice is rough and uncertain.
“Only half?”
I nod. “My half. If you want the whole story . . .” I take a deep breath, hoping I’m not making the wrong choice here. “Then you need to send for Quint.”
