Chapter 17: Tea With Mara

HENDRIX

A maid entered my room carrying a silver tray with tea, bread, and a small white envelope resting beside the cup. She placed everything on the table near the window, kept her eyes lowered, and stepped back.

"From Mrs. Veyra," she said.

Mrs. Veyra.

I looked at the envelope without touching it.

The maid waited.

"Does she expect an answer?"

"Yes."

The maid's fingers tightened around the edge of her apron.

I picked up the envelope.

My name was written across the front in dark, elegant handwriting.

Hendrix Vale.

Inside, there was one line.

Tea in ten minutes Come alone.

I almost laughed.

Come alone.

In Erdem's house, no one came alone.

There were cameras in every hall, guards stationed outside every important door, and servants who carried information more efficiently than any telephone, even the walls seemed to have ears.

Still, the invitation was not really a request for privacy.

I glanced toward the camera in the corner.

Last night's interrogation still lived beneath my skin.

I got dressed in a plain dark shirt and trousers, leaving the red thread hidden beneath my cuff.

The maid was waiting in the hall when I stepped outside.

She led me through the eastern corridor. Portraits lined the walls.

The east conservatory stood beyond a set of glass doors.

Light spilled across the tiled floor. Tall windows opened toward the winter garden. The room was beautiful in the way expensive things often were—carefully arranged, perfectly maintained, and impossible to relax inside.

Mara sat at a small table near the windows.

She wore a cream-colored dress with a high collar and a strand of pearls at her throat. There was nothing threatening about her appearance.

She looked up as I entered and smiled.

"Hendrix, come in."

I stopped several feet from the table.

"Mrs. Veyra."

"Please, call me Mara."

I did not sit.

Her eyes moved over me.

"You look tired."

"I slept badly."

"I heard."

My attention sharpened.

She poured tea into one of the cups.

"Erdem's interrogation rooms are not designed for rest."

I kept my expression neutral.

"You seem well informed."

"Well I make it my business to know what happens in my house."

"Your house?"

Her smile remained.

"My family's house."

She gestured toward the chair opposite her.

"Sit."

I did not move.

Mara tilted her head slightly.

I sat across from her, keeping the table between us.

She pushed the cup toward me.

I did not touch it.

"Afraid it's poisoned?" she asked.

"No."

"Then you don't trust me."

"I don't know you."

I looked at the tea.

Steam rose from the cup in thin white strands.

There were a dozen possibilities. Poison. Sedative. Nothing at all.

The danger might not be in the drink, it might be in accepting anything from her.

Mara lifted her own cup and took a sip.

"Erdem says you are difficult and also a liar."

"That sounds accurate."

Her smile deepened slightly.

I kept my hands in my lap.

"Did he hurt you?" she asked.

The question was soft.

"You already know the answer."

"I know what happened." She set her cup down. "I'm asking what you felt."

I said nothing.

Mara waited.

Then she asked, "Has Erdem touched your soul yet?"

The words entered the room gently but they felt like a hand closing around my throat.

I studied her face.

She did not look embarrassed by the question.

"What does that mean?"

"It means exactly what you think it means."

"I don't think I know what you mean."

"Of course you do."

Mara leaned back in her chair.

"Erdem does not know how to touch anything without trying to possess it," she said. "Not a weapon. Not a person.”

"He doesn't possess me."

"Not yet."

The answer was immediate.

I felt something cold move through me.

Mara picked up a small silver spoon and stirred her tea, though she had not added anything to it.

"Tell me," she said. "Does he keep you near him?"

I thought of the glass room beside his office.

The interrogation room.

The guard outside my door.

"Yes."

"Does he protect you from anyone who tries to hurt you?"

I saw the courtyard.

The gunshot.

Erdem moving before I could.

His shoulder taking the graze and his blood spreading across my hand.

I forced my face to remain still.

Mara saw the hesitation anyway.

"There," she said softly.

I looked at her.

"What?"

"That pause."

"There was no pause."

"There is always a pause before someone lies about protection."

I kept my voice flat. "He protects his property."

Mara's gaze remained on me.

"Is that what he calls you?"

"He doesn't need to call me anything."

"No," she said. "Erdem has always believed names are unnecessary when chains are available."

My fingers curled beneath the table.

She was trying to turn my anger toward Erdem more.

That was obvious but the way in which she did it made me listen anyway.

Mara lifted her cup again.

"When my sons were young, Erdem believed every wound was an opportunity to prove strength. Silas believed every act of kindness was proof that he was finally chosen."

I watched her carefully.

She spoke of them without affection but not quite without knowledge.

She knew exactly where both of them had been wounded.

Mara folded her hands on the table.

"Erdem will tell himself that keeping you close is protection," she said. "He will tell himself that punishing you is discipline, he will convince himself that he is preserving something valuable."

"And what will it really be?"

"Possession."

I looked toward the winter garden.

Mara's voice remained calm behind me.

"Affection is not gentle in this family. It is a hand around the throat, alocked door, a guard outside the room, a threat made in the name of safety."

"That sounds like experience."

A flicker passed through her eyes.

Not hurt.

Recognition.

"You think you understand me because you have seen my sons."

"I think you trained them to be like that."

Her mouth tightened.

"Erdem trained himself."

"Silas too?"

"Silas learned from whatever attention he could steal."

That answer was too honest to be accidental.

I studied her.

Mara had raised two men who loved like conquerors.

Erdem turned desire into control.

Silas turned abandonment into obsession.

Neither of them knew how to offer anything without demanding a price.

And now Mara was sitting across from me, speaking as though she had merely observed that damage instead of helping create it.

Mara took another sip of tea.

"What do you want from me?" I asked.

"Nothing."

I almost laughed.

"You can't just invite me to tea for nothing."

"Perhaps I just wanted to meet you."

"Why?"

"Because you are the first person in years to make my son forget that he is supposed to be untouchable."

I held her gaze.

"I haven't made him forget anything."

"No?" Her eyes moved over my face. "He brought you into his study, he took you on a raid, he stood between you and a bullet. Then he questioned you alone."

"He was suspicious."

"Suspicion does not make Erdem bleed for someone."

"He was protecting an asset."

Mara was quiet for a moment.

Then she said, "You sound like you are trying very hard to believe that."

The words struck too close.

I felt my fingers touch the red thread beneath my cuff.

Liora's memory steadied me.

I had not entered this house for Erdem's attention.

I had not survived his interrogation to become part of his family's sickness.

Mara could talk about affection, possession, and leverage until the tea went cold.

None of it changed why I was here.

Mara sat back and reached for the teapot.

"Drink your tea."

"I'm not thirsty."

"That was not an invitation."

There it was.

The order disguised as care.

I picked up the tea and took one small sip.

Mara watched me swallow.

"Good," she said.

The word carried the same faint approval I had heard from Erdem when he noticed my rage.

The family used praise like a leash.

Mara set down the teapot.

"You should understand something about Erdem," she said. "He believes he is different from his father."

"Isn't he?"

"He is worse in some ways."

I said nothing.

"His father enjoyed cruelty because it made people afraid. Erdem uses cruelty because he believes fear is the only reliable form of control." She looked toward the glass doors. "That belief will eventually destroy him."

"And you want me to help?"

"I want you to survive long enough to decide what you want."

Her words were too reasonable.

Too carefully shaped.

"Are you warning me about him," I said.

"I'm warning you about this family."

"Why?"

"Because you are already becoming leverage."

I felt cold spread through my chest.

"For whom?"

Mara's gaze returned to mine.

"For everyone."

She did not explain.

If Erdem cared about me, I became leverage against him.

If Silas hated Erdem enough, I became a weapon.

If Niko knew my past, I became a route into the estate.

As for Mara I didn't know what she really wanted, and that was a problem.

And if I let any of them believe I cared, I would become easier to control.

I set the cup down.

"Does Erdem know you are afraid of needing him?"

My eyes snapped to hers.

She had found something.

"I think this tea is over."

Mara did not stop me, she only smiled.

"Of course."

I turned toward the exit.

Behind me, she said, "Hendrix."

I stopped.

"Anyone loved by a Veyra becomes leverage," she said. "Remember that before you mistake protection for mercy."

I left the conservatory without answering.

The maid was waiting outside.

She started to lead me back through the corridor, but I barely noticed where we were going.

My mind was everywhere, in everything that had happened since I came to the Veyra family.

MARA

Hendrix Vale walked out of the conservatory with the same careful posture he had used when he entered.

But his eyes had changed and that was all I needed to know.

I looked through the glass doors as Hendrix disappeared into the corridor.

I poured myself another cup of tea.

I lifted the teacup to my lips and smiled faintly.

Sooner or later, Erdem would have to choose between the empire and the thing he wanted to keep.

And when that choice came..."