Self-Made Scoundrel Read Online Free PDF Page A

knew where he could keep the blade hidden. The wooden box with a key his father had given him last spring would be the perfect spot.
    “How’re you going to get it back without him noticing?” Cira asked. There was a hint of judgment in her voice. Dershik furrowed his brow at her in response
    “I’m not giving it back,” he said simply. “I took it, it’s mine. Besides,” he said, walking past her and sitting down on her bed, “He’s just going to do something stupid with it. I told you what he said.” Dershik gazed at her, then looked to the book opened on her bed. “I’m doing everyone a favor.”
    “Except for Karic.” Her arms were crossed over her chest. Dershik stood up from her bed and put his hands on her shoulders, putting his forehead on hers.
    “Look, Cira,” he said. “Please, don’t tell. I just…I wanted to take it from him. I wanted to see if I could, and I did!” He was beseeching her now. “You have to understand, I did something I wanted to do, not something my father told me or something they expected from me. Please? I know you can keep a secret.”
    Cira broke away from him, leaving an empty space where she had stood. She sat on the edge of her bed, eyes on the book she had been reading. “Of course I can keep a secret,” she answered. It was part of her calling, to keep the matters of the hearts of others to herself. It was why Dershik could talk to her about this, about his unease at becoming the next Baron, about how much he hated reading the ledgers and records of past harvests and past censuses, the commissioning of mines to be further explored. It wasn’t just boredom. It was something else, a disjoint between what he wanted to be and what his father said he had to be. It didn’t excite him, the promise of being the Baron. Holding the stolen dagger in his hand did.
    “Then you have to keep this one,” he said, tucking the dagger away. “Please.” He walked over to her bed and felt bold, sitting beside her. Dershik reached out slowly and took her hands in his, his arm touching hers. Cira was the prettiest girl he knew and he wondered how she felt about him. She didn’t pull her hands away or shift away from him. “Please.”
    Cira held his hands in hers. She rubbed the palm of his hand with her thumb. “I will. Of course I will keep your secret. But please remember, sometimes you have to look for the joy in the things you do. Happiness rarely comes easily. For everyone, not just you.” Cira wasn’t moving away from him. Derk bit the inside of his lip, his mouth wanting to meet hers. Should he? What would she say? What would she do? Would she just become a priestess to him, no longer a friend? She could tell Kiyla or worse, his father. Dershik had no idea what his father would do if he knew of his feelings for the priestess. Cira was the only friend he had. He didn’t think he could risk losing her. Dershik let go of her hands, standing up from the bed before he did something stupid.
    “I know,” he said. This was her constant advice to him. But the reading and the surveying never yielded anything but disdain. Disdain for his father and the way the Barony was run. For telling people what to do and having them blindly obey. Cira tried to tell him he could earn their respect, govern differently from his father. He could make the seat what he wanted it to be. But Dershik would always feel like it had been handed to him. “I’m trying, Cira, I am.”
    He pulled the door open slightly, making sure there was no one on the grounds before he looked to her one last time. Cira sat on the bed, hands in her lap. As beautiful as always, her round face framed by her dark hair, light eyes sparkling above a freckled nose. Dershik sighed. “See you in the morning.” He checked one more time before he slipped through the door.
    Dershik still heard the clamor of the party. The windows to the hall were open and he saw the lights within, people dancing and talking. He crept up to