The Geari Wife: Book Two of the Memory Thief Series by Sarina Dorie

Author:Sarina Dorie [Dorie, Sarina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-06-17T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

I have received word from certain sources that there is a spy in my employment, working against me and aligning himself with my enemies. Whether that person works for French, or the alien suffrage movement, is currently unknown. Whoever this traitor is, I shall deal him the swiftest and deadliest of blows.

—Lord Archibald Klark by intergalactic telegram

I visited the terrarium and the cargo bay where animals and Jomon goods had been loaded. My long walk gave me plenty of time to reflect on the events of the day. Sumiko thought I was vain, which I hated, mostly because I agreed with this observation. Meriwether thought I was stupid enough that he could lie to me and I wouldn’t see it, and sometimes I was too naive not to see it. In truth, I didn’t know why he shouldn’t want me to know about the ship that had been destroyed. Surely he didn’t think I was faint of heart at my age and with all the death and destruction I’d witnessed on Aynu-Mosir.

When I returned to my room, I caught Sumiko in the act of throwing a dagger at a mannequin. It was dressed in a set of gentlemen’s attire I presumed she had pillaged from Meriwether’s quarters. From the excess of holes in the chest, I suspected she’d been practicing her knife throwing skills for a while. I decided now wasn’t the time to chide her for rifling through Meriwether’s belongings, nor ruining a set of his clothes.

She unstuck the knife and lifted the hem of her skirt, exposing a scandalous flash of shapely ankle that would make any man’s heart race. The knife she slipped into her stocking, as there was no place to keep it in a lady’s gown. I was surprised she hadn’t changed out of the blue dress she hated so much.

I sat down on the wicker chair. It creaked underneath me. I might as well get this over with.

“I fear much of what you said is true.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I am shallow and vain and persuaded by beauty far more than I would like.”

Sumiko crossed over to me and took my hand. She sighed. “You are an artist. Of course you like beauty. If you could, I’m certain you would paint the whole world with your box of colors to make it more pleasing, including men’s black hearts.” Her fingers stroked my fingers as though I were a newborn chiramantep with the softest of fur. “Only, I caution you to remember beauty is not the same thing as goodness. No matter how much paint you use to cover a black heart, it will never be bright and pure inside, ne?”

I stared into her dark eyes, reading the concern that lay there. It was then that I thought I read what was eating at her—not the idea that I might want to look normal, and be healed and dress like a lady. “You mean Meriwether. You think I’ve fallen in love with him.

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