Carnival of Lies by Melissa Marr Read Free Book Online Page B

abided by the rules wouldn’t accost her, and those who weren’t swayed by law were typically daimons she could dispatch if need be. Her mother would still be appalled to know that she’d walked through the carnival without guard or betrothed at her side. Aya felt a flash of guilt at the thought; ever since she’d learned that the woman she’d thought of as her mother all of these years wasn’t any blood relation to her, she’d been a model daughter. There was something heartbreaking in knowing the secret that her mother didn’t.
    â€œWatcher’s blood, given freely,” a hawker called from a booth she was passing.
    The vendor next to him waved a beautiful blue mask in the air. “To protect your privacy.”
    The conventions of privacy were essential: customers wore the blue mask so they could hire work without anyone knowing who they were. Aya had several blue masks to wear should she need to purchase services anonymously; every ruling-caste daimon did. She’d never hired black or red maskwork, having no need of assassins or pleasure vendors thus far. She had no enemies to dispatch, and Belias had been more than attentive to her needs.
    Will that change when I end our betrothal?
    She couldn’t see any other option. If she were wed, she’d be made fertile by the ceremony, and she’d be his to command. The competition would be closed to her once he had spousal authority; he’d already said as much. She couldn’t see any way to the future she wanted without the competition.
    She purchased the blue mask without bartering. It was new and unlike the others she owned. It felt like a step toward freedom that was both frightening and exhilarating.
    What would it be like to wear the mask? To hire someone whose face I’d never seen to kill for me or to please me? The thought of paying for pleasure was disturbing, but not as much as the brief thought of having to wear the red mask herself. How will I support myself if I am unwed? She’d had spending accounts from the man who’d raised her as if she were his daughter, and Belias assured her that her father’s account would still be hers to access even after the wedding. If she didn’t wed Belias, she wasn’t sure if she’d lose her accounts. What are the terms of the wedding contract? There was no way to see it, so she wouldn’t know the penalty until the deed was done.
    â€œWas there something else?” the vendor asked.
    Aya stepped into the shadowed stall. It was empty save for wares he’d not yet sold and a rodent of some sort that scampered farther into the darkness when they’d entered. Secrets came with a price in The City, but the vendors in the carnival knew that they’d be out of business in an instant—and probably out of a pulse—if they didn’t hold their secrets close.
    â€œI need another mask,” she said in the sort of cold voice she’d once associated with their ruler, Marchosias. She’d need to be more like that to do what she’d have to the next year, maybe the rest of her life. She had to be stronger, colder, fiercer, or she’d be dead soon. She eyed the booth with false calm and added, “Not blue.”
    The vendor waited for only a moment before asking, “Full face?”
    She nodded.
    â€œPlain or elaborate?”
    â€œPlain . . . and not red. I need a black mask.” Aya wasn’t sure she’d wear it, but if she were denied her coins because she was refusing her marriage, she’d need to earn enough to survive in the comfort to which she was accustomed. That level of financial comfort would be a necessity in order to hide her fall from privilege.
    The vendor pulled back a faded cloth to reveal rows of black masks. “Each design is used only once, so the identity of the wearer has some degree of individuality without sacrificing his or her privacy.”
    Behind her, the vendor pulled