CVU2

Chapter 5: Part 5

5

The damnatio code was a tricky thing. While nobility so often was depicted as being above the law for humans among the strigoi it was actually the commoners who were beneath the law. A scumbag biker might overreact and kill a family that should have been covered, a little matter - what did they know, they were basic beasts - but for a noble to arrange the same?

Oh no. The standards were different.

Zvera Comprachicos, already so aware of what most strigoi thought about her mother, finally saw the way of it in a flash as she glared down at Tzaraa, then at the portly bartender rushing to see what was breaking everything brittle in his establishment.

"Bill me!" The muffle came back, and the bartender backed off. The ladies' business was not yet concluded, he saw.

Zvera saw how believable it was as an ugly rumor. Tzaraa was a commoner, what did she know ... but if the rumor spread among other commoners, if the thought came so naturally to them, this was a terrible stain. That the rumor might find the vogelfrei's ears and send him roaring out of the north to inflict some degrading and excruciating torture was nothing compared to the stain of it all.

Tzaraa sighed, getting to her feet, carefully avoiding bits of glass and plate with skill no blind human could muster.

"I hope Karet's not here because of Grando," she said, ignoring the fury in Zvera's face, the choked fury that had nothing more to say as the awful future popularity

(plausibility)

of the rumor came clearly to her.

"I hope that the Angry Son didn't arrange a trap in Kingston," Tzaraa continued. She made an effort to look Zvera in the eye, missing, though her intent was clear, and when Tzaraa sank to one knee the respectful gesture was plainly sarcastic because when you're suddenly blind one of the best ways to cope is to stop giving a fuck about the unimportant things.

"My Lady-to-be, if he gets the idea that there were more souls at work behind his family's death, I still expect you to win. You'll certainly try harder than the fraternity boy. But it's going to be awful, so awful it won't feel like a victory."

Clenching sharp teeth together, Zvera could only say, "Thanks ... for ... the map, at least. Good luck with the Croat."

"I'm as blind as a bat, I need all the luck I can get," Tzaraa muttered.