Page 31 of A Thief to Die For

‘And I’m Agatha.’

My attention jerks to the other woman who walked in with Marian. ‘Oh! I’m sorry,’ I say, feeling guilty. I should have acknowledged her sooner. This must be his other daughter. I step off the dais. ‘And I’m Ryland.’ I wipe my wine-covered hand on my trousers before holding it out to her.

She offers a smile and shakes it. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

‘Yes, that is my other daughter,’ the Commander says, slurring a little. ‘The one who thinks she doesn’t need to learn to fight or work, and who wastes my wealth on all her experiments.’

Agatha’s face falters, and an awkward silence follows.

‘There’s been a lot of wine going around,’ I say, shooting her an apologetic look. ‘Shall we take our seats?’ I pull out a chair beside me.

Agatha beams at me as she sits.

I don’t immediately see a resemblance between the two sisters, other than that they share the same long, dark hair. Agatha is wearing a dress with yellow layers of skirt and ruffles down her sleeves. It’s fancier than Marian’s, more formal, and yet I’m left with the sense that this isn’t the first time Agatha’s been forgotten in a room with her sister.

More plates of food are dropped on to the table. Marian angles away from her father, her face the picture of someone enduring our time together like a prison sentence.

Then there’s me – the man who’s holding her most dangerous secret over her head. I shift in my chair, and with a pit in my stomach, take in the man she’s stealing from. What if her secret isn’t the result of greed, but something more dire?

Necessity.

‘So let’s get to know each other better,’ the Commander says, digging back into his food. ‘Tell us about yourself, Ryland. Tell us everything.’

Real subtle. ‘Well, I’m a soldier.’ I glance at Marian as I confirm the suspicions she voiced last night. Her gaze is cold. I shift again.

‘And have you been one all your life?’ Agatha asks.

‘Yes, that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.’

I’m not about to ask Marian if it’s the same for her, but I have wondered how she got so good at grappling. Is it required of her? Or something she’s always wanted to master?

The Commander curses gutturally. ‘Ask a better question, Agatha.’ He turns to me. ‘Do you have a mistress, Ryland?’

Marian chokes on her drink.

I wait until she stops coughing before answering. ‘No.’

He leans forward. ‘Would you like to try one of mine? They are very pretty.’

Agatha’s eyes are wide as she exhales into her hand.

‘No,’ I say again, feeling like I’m fighting for my life. ‘But, thank you.’

The Commander’s lips purse. ‘Well … I keep three.’

Marian has studiously begun eating her dinner.

‘They’re a handful, though,’ the Commander mutters. ‘But so are my daughters – who are also available for … getting to know.’

The room feels like it’s shot up ten degrees. I scratch my neck. And here I thought the fathers in Kingsland were intense. ‘Thank you. But my preference is … to earn a woman’s attention.’

‘Boo!’ he shouts. ‘I tried that with the girls’ mother, but Agatha killed her in childbirth. Never again.’

There’s a series of smacks as the magician drops the balls he was juggling. Marian’s grip on her fork has turned white, her eyes murderous. I can’t say I disagree with the sentiment. I lick my lips, digging deep for restraint. ‘Of course, children are never responsible for the outcome of childbirth. It’s an incredibly dangerous feat on its own.’

‘And what are your interests?’ Agatha asks me, changing the subject. ‘Do you have any hobbies?’

‘Agatha,’ the Commander snaps. ‘Ask something normal.’