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“Rune sent her grandmother to the purge,” Gideon told Harrow. “She’s no witch sympathizer. Just an empty-headed patriot.”
“Maybe that’s what she wants you to think,” Harrow countered.
Gideon shook his head. It made no sense. “Why would she risk her life to save other witches now when she heartlessly betrayed her grandmother two years ago?”
“It could be a deception.”
Gideon was about to shrug this off, except that kind ofdeception was exactly what he’d learned to expect from the Crimson Moth.
What if Harrow’s right?
His comrade picked up her glass and slowly swirled the ale inside, watching Gideon chew on his thoughts.
He’d dismissed it, but there had been a moment in the opera box when Rune’s mindless prattling had suddenly turned biting.Someone like you obviously prefers the company of stupid brutes with terrible style.
It didn’t prove anything. Aristocrats like Rune Winters had always looked down on Gideon. The Blood Guard paid well, but good pay didn’t elevate a man’s station. Gideon might not be dirt-poor anymore, but he was far from her equal.
In Rune Winters’ eyes, people like him—soldiers, sons of tailors, members of the working class—would always beless than.
But they’d found signatures on her ship. Gideon couldn’t rule out the possibility that Rune might be the Moth—or at least in league with her.
“I’ll keep my eyes on the docks,” said Harrow.
He glanced up to find a thoughtful expression on her face. “I’ll pay for whatever information you find.”
The light in her golden eyes winked out. She stopped swirling her drink. “No.”
Gideon sighed. Over a year ago, Harrow had approached him, offering her services. The Crimson Moth had stolen yet another witch from him the day before, and Gideon was desperate to outmaneuver her. He accepted Harrow’s offer, expecting her to gouge him with her fees. Instead, she refused payment. When he asked her why, Harrow had simply pointed to her missing ear and walked away.
“Doesn’t your little brother run in Rune’s circles? Get him to spy for you.”
Gideon tensed. This had always been a sore spot between him and Alex. His brother wanted nothing to do with the hunting and purging of witches. He’d made that clear these past two years, and Gideon no longer pressed him on it.
Their shared past haunted them both in different ways. Alex wanted to forget; Gideon couldn’t afford to.
“Alex isn’t interested in spy work.”
“Mmm. I guess you’ll have to do it yourself, then.”
Gideon glanced up. “Do what myself?”
“Ican’t walk among them. Me in one of those fancy gowns, jewels dripping from my fingers?” Harrow turned her face to give him a perfect view of the side of her head where an ear should be but wasn’t, making it perfectly obvious why she didn’t belong in marble ballrooms, eating off gold-rimmed plates. “But you can.”
“What are you proposing? That IbefriendRune Winters?”
“More than that, Comrade.” Harrow’s grin widened, and there was mischief in it. “You should woo her.”
He nearly choked. “You’re not serious.”
The idea made him break out in a sweat.
Harrow leaned in. “You don’t make friends, Gideon. Not easily, anyway. Certainly not with people like Rune. You do, however, collect admirers. Whether or not you notice them.”
“She called me a stupid brute.”
Harrow’s mouth snagged in a crooked smile, as if this delighted her. “Sounds like a girl after my own heart.”
“I’m serious. I have nothing to offer her. When girls like Rune pick out their future husbands, people like me don’t make their lists.”
