49 – Exposed

Margret was nervous about her meeting with the lord. A certain level of anxiety was understandable in her situation of course.

No matter how much she rehearsed her answers to dangerous questions, a corner of her mind always worried she would slip up at an unexpected query, or reveal some inconsistency to stoke the lord’s suspicions. Despite his claims at that gathering, she remembered his previous behavior all too well.

Long story short, if she garnered his ire her life would turn into a living nightmare.

Just a few years more and she could retire gracefully without raising eyebrows. The lord had a preference for his maids to not be too old, so no one would be surprised. Then she would move to a different town with the money she earned and live a good life. For all the danger, her ‘second job’ paid very well.

Her mind started to alertness from where it had had been wandering. The lord had snapped his fingers in her face.

“I understand that you might be nervous, but you really shouldn’t space out like that.” His face held a smile that was fractionally different from before. Not that Margret could tell exactly in what way. He waved her hasty apology off.

Somehow, for how unnatural his appearance was – surely it must be a curse from the gods, right? – his smile was dazzling. Those red eyes also had an unusual depth that made it hard to look away.

“What is your name?” came the question. Margret had heard all about these talks from people who’d come before her, so she knew what to expect.

Next followed a series of questions about trivial things, many of which he should really already know. How long had she worked at the manor? Nearly five years now. Some questions about her family. They’re fine, thank you for your concern. The money I earn here helps support them. How satisfied she was working here. This one nearly made her laugh, but she managed to keep both a straight face and lie through her teeth about how great a job working for this monster was.

While the smile had never left that man’s face, Mia, standing to the side, had a troubled look. The younger woman kept glancing between Margret and the lord. A smart one, that Mia. She managed to grab onto the lord and was lifted from her pitiable situation due to it. If she was worried about something, Margret might also need to be concerned.

Those considerations were interrupted by a question she’d been expecting and dreading in equal parts.

“You indicated you can read and write, is that correct?” She just nodded in response. The fewer words she said, the less chance of screwing up.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you learn to read? It’s not particularly common in a place like this, from what I understand.”

Moment of truth. This was the largest obstacle she had to overcome. After this, she’d be safe.

Keeping a tight grip on her mind and more importantly her mouth, Margret recounted her false cover story. Supposedly, her family was friendly with one of the traveling merchants that supplied the town with products they didn’t produce and then returned laden with special wood. As a young girl, she’d developed an interest in the man’s ledger. Seeing this, he had decided to teach her in his time off.

Unfortunately, that merchant hadn’t returned to town for a few years now. He had sent a letter one day that he managed to settle down in a distant city, giving up on the relatively dangerous traveling lifestyle.

Most of this story was actually true. It would be quick to fall apart if the lord asked around and no one in town knew that merchant or noticed the friendship with Margret’s family. Her own family wasn’t in on her spying either, so asking them directly would have been a risk.

No, the story was mostly true. Aside from the fact that that merchant had a second job as a spy, gathering information on places along his route. Places including the town under Kalin Steelheart’s rule. Of course, a mere traveling merchant couldn’t gain access to a noble’s residence, no matter how lowly or exiled the noble was.

So, Margret had been chosen as an inside agent. Not all at once of course. It had taken years for her to be included in these efforts. But she had done her job well. And thus, the merchant himself no longer visited to reduce the risk of their operation being revealed.

Clueless to her deception, the lord bought her lies. With that same, annoyingly handsome smile, he continued. “Thank you for telling me that. Are you ready for the reading test?”

Margret nodded.

“It’s not too hard. I’ll just hand you a text and you read it out loud. Afterwards, you’ll write a few sentences yourself and the test is complete. Simple, right? Here you go.”

So saying, his pale white hand reached over the desk and placed a sheet of real paper in front of her. It was covered in surprisingly neat handwriting and smelled faintly of fresh ink. Did he write this just before she entered the room? Margret had honestly not paid much attention to the desk, too focused on her story and the dangerous man in front of her.

Picking it up – the paper felt different to her skin than the parchment she was used to – Margret began to read. The text began with fairly standard formalities, as far as she could tell. Not that someone like her ever sent letters addressed to nobles.

Apparently, this was a letter penned by the lord, intended for Anaster Steelheart. On reading ‘uncle Anaster’, she was starting to get a bit worried whether this was something she should be reading in the first place. But he’d handed it to her himself. Not to mention, there might be useful information to be had here that she could send with her next report. She was already a little overdue, with the whole demon situation.

“I write to you today about a small issue I’ve uncovered. Maybe you’ll have some insight uncle, as someone with your breadth and depth of experience,” Margret read out loud. She’d noticed the lord used a lot of uncommon words, probably why this was chosen as a test in the first place.

Continuing, making sure to properly commit everything to memory, she almost didn’t notice what she read.

“I’ve uncovered a spy in my employ. I’m certain it’s not tied to that demon, since you assured me all those agents were taken care of. As such, I’d appreciate any input you have on how to resolve this issue and root out all traces of treachery.” Margret paused as her mind caught up to what she’d just read.

He uncovered a spy? How? Who? There were others in the manor? That made sense. Of course an important job like this wouldn’t be left to her alone. And not knowing about the other was reasonable as well. Maybe they were even a spy for someone else entirely. Fortunately, that meant they also wouldn’t know about her either way. So she was still safe.

At least that’s what Margret told herself to reassure her failing confidence.

“Please, continue reading. You’re doing well so far.” Was it just her imagination, or did the smile on the lord’s face look predatory? With a slight stammer, she kept reading.

“A-as to the traitor’s identity. Her name is…” Margret trailed off. Her whole body had gone rigid, gripping the expensive paper so tightly it might rip.

“Keep reading, Margret. We just got to the interesting part, isn’t that right?”

But she couldn’t make a sound. There, on the page in front of her, was her name! How? How!? She’d never slipped up. No one else knew about this. Not even her family! Even the traveling merchant who carried her letters thought she was merely writing to a secret lover. The messages were even written in a code, no one but her contact should know how to get the real message.

Stolen novel; please report.

And yet, there, right in front of her unbelieving eyes, all the details of her secret activities were listed. Even her contact’s name, as well as the original ‘traveling merchant’ who’d trained her.

“I–” Her voice cut off, barely a squeak. Her mind was reeling, incapable of forming coherent sentences for a long while. Everything was collapsing around her. How did it all go so wrong?

“This is all false,” she managed to force out eventually. “I-I’m loyal to you, Lord Steelheart!”

“We both know that’s not true though, don’t we?” Those red eyes were pulling her in, threatening to drown her in a sea of blood. Distantly Margret noticed the wide, sharp-toothed grin on the lord’s face.

“Now, do you know what the punishment for treason is? This can hardly be qualified as anything less, in my opinion.”

No words formed. After an indeterminate amount of time, Mia answered instead.

“I believe it’s usually the gallows, Lord Steelheart. For both the perpetrator and their family.” The words were strangely muffled, like Margret was listening from under water.

“Hmm. That so very final, don’t you think? Not much time to regret the error of your ways if you’re just dead.”

“Well, the ultimate decision in terms of punishment falls on the lord in the end. I’ve heard some ‘creative’ things have been done before.”

The room was spinning. Margret could barely hear through the thunderous beating of her own heart. A crisp sound brought her back to the present. Once again, the lord had snapped his fingers in front of her face.

“Pay attention now. We’re talking about important things after all. Now, I believe you have a younger brother?”

A cold hand gripped her throat, even though nothing was there. The growing dread forced her to push through it and speak anyway.

“Please– I’ll do anything, so please!” Margret wasn’t quite sure was she was pleading for. Was it her family? Her own life? Those infinitely deep, piercing cold eyes bore into her soul.

“How about a deal?” A spark of hope kindled in her heart.