Regency Immortal (The Immortal Chronicles Book 5) Read Online Free

a state I find myself in periodically.  It’s cyclical. 
    “I have been a merchant, certainly,” I said, “but just now I have only the funds I’m traveling with and the freedom to do as I wish.”
    “You’re royal, then.  But not English.  French?”
    “I’m what you would call a jumped-up peasant.  If I become bored I may at some point in the future consider a new business or title, but I’m not driven by either pursuit.”
    “You can devise a better lie than this, sir.”
    “I probably could, if I were lying.  Here, let me offer a solution to our current standoff.  You’ve already told me you are dressing above your station in life.  I expect you’re doing this because it opens doors for you that wouldn’t otherwise open.”
    “You could say this about most women.”
    “I could, but you’re not looking for a husband or a benefactor.  You want to be on the other side of those doors because that’s where important people are having important conversations.  You asked me what my trade is and I’m telling you the truth when I say I have none at present.  But you do.  I would wager your trade is in secrets.”
    She smiled.  “As you can imagine, sir, if this were so, I wouldn’t tell you.”
    “True, but let me build upon that assumption anyway.  As a person who traffics in secret information, I can’t imagine a better place for you than Vienna, where the value of secrets is at a premium.  Now, I have seen you neither read nor write, but assuming you can do both of those things—and I do—I believe somewhere on your person is a letter divulging secret knowledge.  This letter was supposed to be going to the man in the alley, up until he was killed by a creature you call a vampire.  How am I doing?”
    “I’m beginning to wonder if your trade is divination.”
    A letter found its way from her bosom and onto the table.  She kept her hand on it.
    “How do you know these things?” she asked.
    “I pay attention.  But here’s the solution I promised: I don’t care.  I don’t care what’s written in that letter or who it concerns, how you got it or who it was meant to go to beyond the fact that all of these things may have gotten your contact murdered.  I have no interest in politics.”
    “Only a fool doesn’t concern himself with politics.”
    “I concern myself only insofar as it’s a better way to solve problems than having a war.  But in the larger picture nearly all politics is petty and inconsequential, and I’ve lived long enough to learn not to care overly much about it.”
    “You’re not so old as that, sir.”
    “My age would surprise you.  Now can we move ahead?  If you had failed to meet up with this man, what were you supposed to do?”
    “There was no alternative plan.”
    “I know something of espionage, milady.  There’s always an alternative plan.”
    “ I had no other plan.  My cohort may have had one, but I must assume whatever he had worked out didn’t include his own murder.  I was told to complete my business with him and only him, and I’ve already violated that control by discussing this with you.”
    “You haven’t told me anything,” I said.
    “That hasn’t stopped you from getting very far purely on deduction.  Do you truly have no stake in the outcome of the proceedings?”
    “The proceedings?”
    “The congress.”
    “Oh, that.  I’m not here for that.  I think I probably had some business in the city and decided to stay once it was concluded.”
    “That was unconvincing to a staggering degree.”
    “It’s a nice city.  And this was probably many months ago.  I recall seeing snow.”
    “Oh my God, you’re an idiot.”
    “No, just a drunk.  So?”
    She sighed some more and rolled her eyes, and I don’t know what it is about exasperation in women, but I find it adorable.  Then she removed her hand from the envelope on the table.
    It was unsealed.  I picked it up carefully, slid out the letter, and unfolded