Mark of Betrayal (Dark Secrets #3)(15)
Author: A.M. Hudson

“The Loslilian director of penalty would perhaps be best.”

“Who’s that? I thought Morgaine was head of, like, everything Lilithian.”

“No,” Arthur said with a smile. “Only in Paris. She was brought here purely to torture David. She would not know the finer details of Loslilian prisoners or punishment schedules.”

“Oh. So, who’s this director of penalty, then?”

“Bernard.”

“Bernard?” I said it quietly to myself. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll speak to him.”

“Very well. But not alone.”

“Why not?”

“He’s spent far too long trolling those dark corridors, my dear. He has little respect for anything or anyone. I’d not put it past him to be rude.”

“I can handle a person being rude.”

“That may be so, but I will not tolerate anyone disrespecting our princess.”

“Aw, how sweet,” I said, my lip in a false pout. But it faded away quickly with a question resonating from deep within my worry-spot. “Hey, Arthur?”

“Yes.”

“Do you really think I’m going to stuff all this up—you know, wreck everything you’ve built?” I asked delicately.

He rubbed his face with both hands. “No. I don’t. I just don’t want you to run in with guns blazing—trying to change every law you oppose, all at once. As you spend more time in the community of vampires, you will see, more clearly with each passing day, that there is good reason for everything we have done.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“That is all I ask.”

With the awkward first part of our conversation out of the way, I felt more comfortable to attempt a little probing. “So, you knew Drake pretty well, right?”

“Know him well, yes. He is a good friend.”

“But, you haven’t seen him—since the attack?”

“No. I’ve not even had word from him. I was told only that he was in Rome.”

“Does he know you’re here at the manor?”

“I don’t know. He would be aware I have taken my bi-annual leave, but he would not likely know where I have gone.”

“Won’t he think you should have stayed? You know, because of the whole Lilithian uprising and all.”

Arthur shook his head. “I have served my time. Friend to the king or not, I must take my leave.”

“Do you think he’s still alive? Like, after he was stabbed—do you think he survived it?”

“I would be certain of that.”

“How could he survive it, though—if it was my venom on the sword, how could he live?”

“There’s no saying it was your venom. It could have been a ruse.”

I nodded. “True.”

“Or, perhaps it may be that he is a very powerful being and cannot be killed. I have not only heard stories of his dark magic, but seen him use it.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Can I…can I ask what sort of magic you saw?” My eyes widened a little.

Arthur looked down at his open palm, as if he held something there. “I watched him turn a red rose black—suck the life from it—then restore in the same breath.”

“Wow. So, maybe he is evil? Maybe I should seek to destroy him?”

“What does your heart tell you?”

I thought about that for a second, trying to dislodge all the other voices in there that weren’t mine. “It tells me to negotiate with him—that he is capable of reason.”

“And what does your private council think of this?”

“Well, Mike thinks I’m young and naïve—that I just don’t have any idea what I’m talking about.” I looked down.

“Mike is young, himself.” Arthur smiled. “You are a bright girl, and I know you do not see good and evil in two dimensions.”

“No. I don’t. But, is that wrong?”

“No, Princess, it’s not. The world is so full of philosophy and opinion. And each individual has opposing concepts of harmony and peace. We all defend our beliefs, our perceptions of what is right or wrong—and it is impossible sometimes to know which side to take.”

“I know. It’s a grey area.”

“Yes. One may ask himself if he should follow the leader that shares the majority of advocates, or the one whom he agrees with himself. And that—” he grinned, leaning back on the swing, making it rock a little, “—even I have not answered to this day.”

“Hm, well, it’s a good question, Arthur. I guess, in the end, you just have to follow your heart.”

“Some do not have that luxury,” he said. “Humans, especially, follow tyrants sometimes out of force, often just fear, but, I believe, mostly…naivety.”

“I think most people know what’s right and wrong, Arthur. And in the end, we all always overthrow oppression.”

“How little you know of history for a girl whose own father is a professor in this field.” He sat forward a little. “What you need to ask is not whether we overthrow oppression, but who is the oppressor—who do we overthrow?”

“The bad guy.”

“How do you decide who is bad?”

I shrugged. “Guess it’s a matter of opinion.”

“And whose opinion counts?”

“Everyone’s.”

“But, not everyone agrees.” He turned in the seat to face me. “Take Hitler, for example; people followed him, convinced, as he was, that his madness was merely revolution.”

“Yes, but in time, they rose against him. Good did triumph.”

“Again, not that I feel this way, but how do you know that was the right course of action? And who decides?”

“We all decide, Arthur, because bringing pain and suffering to anyone, for any reason, is never right.” I tucked my hair behind my ear and looked up at him. “The world will not stop fighting for freedom and peace. That is what’s right, and tyranny is wrong. I will always take the path that leads to freedom for my people.”

“For your people—exactly. And what if the path to freedom would result, ultimately, in the sacrifice of many others? Would you be any better than your tyrannical predecessors for opting to walk it?”

“Well—”

“You see? How do you choose a side? What is right? What is wrong—and according to whom?”