Page 99 of The Thief and the Traitor Bride

She stalked across the room, moving like a woman half her age, and slapped Nore across the face.

Nore gasped, her hand going to her cheek—it hurt just as badly as everything else, and still, somehow, worse.

“I never took you for a fool, girl,” Edith said. “But I have been wrong before, and it seems I was wrong again.” She did not speak coldly, or like she was angry. She merely said it as fact.

Nore didn’t know what to say. Though she felt full of hot, uncomfortable shame, she would not apologize for loving Cas.

“I’m sorry,” she managed. She didn’t know what she was apologizing for.

If anything, that made Edith’s gaze even more frigid. “You let him in. He stole your heart, Elinore. Your youth. Your freedom. Your trust. Is there anything worse he could’ve taken?”

Nore looked away, swallowing hard. If she answered, she would cry, and she could not cry in front of Edith. Not right now, when Edith already thought her weak.

Edith turned and walked back across the room, her age returning to her with every step, as if she’d been young only to come in and punish Nore and now could die in peace. “Authorities found that thief of yours skulking around my roses. He’s been apprehended.”

“W-what?” Nore couldn’t work the words out. Cas hadn’t just gone home? He’d come here?

“The duchess is pleased with the result, if not with your methods, so we can be thankful for that. She will want to see you this evening, but before that, we have a long day to get through.” The duchess knew about Nore’s marriage, obviously, but…

Nore stared at her, uncomprehending. Edith turned, lingering in the doorway, her gaze hard and cold as the northern mountains.

“There is a dress for you in the wardrobe. I’ve asked a specialist to come by to mask your facial injuries and wrap your arm. Of course, we can’t have anyone knowing about your… extracurricular activities.”

All the fight ran out of Nore. She sank into the vanity chair, feeling the flare of pain in her side. “You want me to go to work? I’ve been stabbed.”

Edith pursed her lips. “This is the reality of what we do, Elinore. No one must know what you were doing last night. No one must know you were harmed. No one must detect that your evening was, in any way, out of the ordinary.”

“But—”

“I’ll see you in the parlor on the hour,” Edith said, whirling out. “Do not be late.”

She survived the day at work, somehow. Mostly, Nore sat in her office, her hand folded over her wound, and reviewed the accounts. Too often, she found herself staring out the window, thinking of some other facet of her life that would never again be the same.

Cas, a thief. Cas, a traitor. Cas, a murderer.

But it wasn’t like she could take her love for him and sever it, rip it out firmly at the root. Her heart ached every time she recalled his face coming into focus, the contours of horror as he realized it was Nore he’d stabbed.

By the time the end of her workday came, Nore could do little more than sit and breathe, counting through the pain. The medicine had worn off, and Edith had not sent someone with more. She could not ask one of the clerks because that would mean betraying her own confidentiality.

She was so out of it that she looked up between one second and the next and found Celestine sitting there in front of her desk, like she’d always been there. Nore had not heard her come in.

She forced herself to sit straight. “Well met, Your Highness,” Nore said, her voice sounding high and unfamiliar to her own ears.

The duchess eyed her shrewdly—but then a small smile started on her lips. “You have surprised me again, Ms. Gordon. I am sorry to hear things have gone so badly—I had every hope for your marriage.”

Nore sucked a breath through her teeth. “As did I,” she gritted out. She closed her eyes for a moment, fighting the question she had wanted to ask… but. “Did you know?”

A silence. Nore did not bear to look. “Your husband was a thief for hire. A contract killer. I did know of his existence and his operations in Nettlepool—he has worked against me before, for other clients.”

Nore held her breath, still waiting.

“But.” She heard the chair across from her move, felt a hand on her broken wrist, the warmth of Celestine’s grip sinking through the fabric that stabilized her broken bone. “Did I know he was your husband? No. If I had suspected it, I would not have given you this assignment.”

Nore bit back the sob that threatened her. She opened her eyes to find Celestine watching her with her pale-blue eyes, her expression full of nothing but sympathy. “I’m sorry,” Celestine said. “I did not wish this for you.”

She could not speak, so she only nodded.

Celestine rose, offering Nore her hand. “Come now. We have more to do before this page can be turned.”