The Winner's Crime Read Online Free PDF Page B

was
    intent on the drawer’s contents, which Kestrel couldn’t see.
    “I behaved badly in the prison,” Kestrel said. “The tor-
    ture—”
    “Interrogation,” he said to the drawer.
    “It reminded me of the Firstwinter Rebellion. Of . . .
    what I experienced.”
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    “What you experienced.” The emperor looked up from
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    the drawer.
    “Yes.”
    “We have never fully discussed what you experienced,
    Kestrel. I should think that what ever it was, it would make
    MARIE RUTK
    you encourage the captain in his proceedings instead of
    jeopardizing his line of inquiry. Or do we have a diff erent
    understanding of what you suff ered at the hands of the
    Herrani rebels? Do I need to reevaluate the story of the
    general’s daughter, who escaped captivity and sailed through
    a storm to alert me to the rebellion?”
    “No.”
    “Do you think that an empire can survive without a
    few dirty methods? Do you think that an empress will
    keep herself clean of them?”
    “No.”
    He slid the drawer shut. Its click was as loud as a bang.
    “Then what have we left to address but my disappoint-
    ment? My grievous disappointment? I had thought better
    of you.”
    “Let me redeem myself. Please. I speak Herrani very
    well, and my presence made the prisoner ready to talk. If
    I were to question him—”
    “He’s dead.”
    “What?”
    “Dead, and what ever information he had with him.”
    “How?”
    The emperor waved an irritated hand. “Infection.
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    Fever. A waste bucket.”
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    “I don’t understand.”
    “The prison is designed to prevent suicide. But this
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    man— Thrynne—was clever. Committed. Desperate. Any
    ’S
    number of qualities that might make someone decide to in-
    fect open wounds by plunging them into a waste bucket.”
    Kestrel’s nausea threatened to return. And guilt: a bad
    THE WINNER
    taste at the back of her throat.
    The emperor sighed. He settled into a chair and ges-
    tured for Kestrel to sit in the one across from him. She
    sank into it. “You know his kind, Kestrel. Do you think
    that someone like him would resort to such mea sures to
    protect a Valorian senator who had paid him to learn which
    ways he should vote?”
    “No,” she said. Any other answer would seem false.
    “Who do you think hired him?”
    “The east, perhaps. They must have spies among us.”
    “Oh, they do.” The emperor held her gaze in a way that
    didn’t wait for an answer, but to see if she would voice what
    he already believed.
    “He worked for Herran,” Kestrel said slowly.
    “Of course. Tell me, is their leader an inspiring sort of
    man? I’ve never met him. But you were his prisoner. Would
    you say that this new governor has . . . charisma? The sort
    of pull and power that lure people to take extreme risks on
    his behalf ?”
    She swallowed hard. “Yes.”
    “I have something to show you.” He pointed at the
    drawer he had closed. “Bring what lies inside.”
    It was a gold coin stamped with the emperor’s pro fi le.
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    “I had this series minted in celebration of your engage-
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    ment,” he said. “Turn the coin over.”
    Kestrel did. What she saw left her frightened. It was a
    symbol of crossed knitting needles.
    “Do you know what that is?”
    MARIE RUTK
    Kestrel hesitated to speak. “It’s the sign of Jadis.”
    “Yes. The perfect story, I think, to represent you.”
    Jadis had been a warrior girl from ancient Valorian leg-
    end. A lieutenant. Her army had been defeated, and she
    was taken prisoner by an enemy warlord who added her to
    his harem. He liked all his women, but developed a par tic-
    u lar taste for the Valorian girl. He was not, however,