‘Your Grace – I was just coming to fetch you.’
‘No matter, Turik – my cousin let me know.’
Lucien is sitting at his desk, writing a letter. He’s barefoot in his shirt and trousers, his tunic slung over the back of the chair. When he sees me he stands and nods at his servant.
‘Thank you, Turik. That will be all tonight.’
‘Are you sure, my lord? Is there really nothing else I can fetch you? Perhaps some fruit, or some more wine?’
‘I’ve hardly touched the first bottle you brought up. Really, go and rest.’
‘Very good, my lord.’ Turik bobs his head and hurries away.
I frown after him as he leaves. ‘He seems distressed.’
‘I suppose he was worried what might happen to him, if I wasn’t released.’
‘I think he was worried about you.’ I walk further into the room. ‘We all were.’
‘Your Grace,’ Lucien makes no move to sit down again, just fiddles with his pen, ‘you shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous.’
‘Why? I’m entitled to come and visit my clerk. Besides, nobody knows I’m here, apart from Letya and Turik. There wasn’t a soul around –’
‘Someone will have seen you before this. Someone will have followed you. You took an unnecessary risk, as usual.’ He sighs, and finally looks at me properly. ‘I don’t know why I was taken in to be questioned, but I doubt this is the end of it. You need – you have – to stay away from me. I don’t want you caught up in whatever is going to happen next.’
‘You forget, my lord, I’m already caught up in it.’ I move a pile of papers off the nearest chair, sit down and stare at him as haughtily as I can manage. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but he goes to the side table, pours two glasses of wine and brings me one.
‘Thank you. Did they hurt you?’
‘No. I sat in a room for hours and finally they asked me lots of questions: where had I flown recently? Who did I still know in Frianland, from when I worked for the diplomatic mission there? That sort of thing. And then they let me go.’ He rubs a hand over his face and I remember that he only got back here this morning after flying all night.
‘You must be dead on your wings. I’ll leave you to rest.’ Tomorrow will be soon enough to tell Lucien what I saw in the royal apartment. If I’m going to send him back to Merl to look for Siegfried’s letters to my father, he has to be in a fit state to fly. I rise and move towards the door.
‘Your Grace, wait.’
‘What is it?’
‘May I ask you something?’
‘Of course.’
‘This morning, when you suggested that I should betray you, that I should allow you to confess to poisoning the king, and become Protector myself – what gave you the idea?’
Was it really only this morning? ‘Well …’ I tug on my earlobe, considering. ‘It seemed logical. Remember what you always say: the important thing is Atratys. Not me. Not any one person. And I think you would be a good Protector.’
‘That’s it? You’re sure that there was nothing else? No more … specific reason?’ His voice is calm, but his eyes are full of anxiety. It’s on the tip of my tongue to lie, to reassure him. But I don’t want to keep another secret from him.
‘The potion that Siegfried has been giving me has –’ I sigh – ‘some unfortunate side effects. The first night that I took it – the night before I told you he had helped me transform – I found it impossible to rest. Eventually I went for a walk in the gardens.’ Lucien’s colour fades as the blood drains from his face. ‘I heard what you said to Turik, Lucien. The promise you made to him: that you would sacrifice me without a second thought.’
My clerk staggers to a chair and drops his head into his hands. ‘What must you think of me?’
I cross the room to stand next to him. ‘I think that you’re the most honourable man I’ve ever met. Honourable, and honest and … and brave.’ Lifting my hand, I brush my fingers across his raven hair.
‘But I wasn’t being honest. I was angry. Turik spoke of my feelings for you, and I wished to deny them. To convince him – and myself – that I did not care for you.’
His feelings for me? Something that isn’t nerves or fear flickers in the pit of my stomach. I take a deep breath to steady my voice.
‘Still, you were right, Lucien. My duty is to protect Atratys. If I were to fail in that duty, then I should be sacrificed. I would not deserve anything better. I understand, finally: what I want is really not important.’
He shudders, as if he’s under some great stress, and stands up. ‘I was wrong about one thing, Aderyn. When I told you not to trust anyone, that wasn’t right. Not entirely.’ Picking up his sword from where it’s hanging on the back of the chair, he draws it out of the scabbard. ‘You can trust me, Your Grace. Before, I promised to serve you. But now, I swear it.’
As I watch, he positions the blade across the centre of his left palm, grits his teeth –
‘Don’t –’ I place my hands flat on the sword. ‘Don’t, Lucien. I would not have you injure yourself. And I already trust you.’
In the silence, I can hear Lucien’s breathing. He puts the sword down and leans forward, lifting one hand to caress my cheek. I mirror his movement, staring up at the dark fire in his eyes, at the curve of his lips, enjoying the sensation of his skin beneath my palm. I scan his face greedily, studying every detail, as he twists the fingers of one hand through my long hair. Then his arms are around me, pulling me hard against him, and his mouth is on mine, and he’s kissing me, and I can feel my heart hammering so hard I think it might smash my ribcage.
‘Aderyn …’ His voice is husky, but I hear the question in it.
And perhaps he is right. Perhaps, given everything we’ve said to each other, this is not an appropriate relationship. Perhaps, given everything that is happening, this is not an appropriate time.
But I fear the time we have is running out.
‘I choose now, Lucien. And I choose you.’
He kisses my head, sighing into my hair. ‘Then, with your permission, Your Grace …’ He picks me up and carries me to the bed. I sit on the edge and watch as he bolts the door and snuffs out all but one candle, every nerve ending in my body singing with anticipation. He plucks, uncertain, at his shirt. ‘Shall I …?’
‘Yes. But let me help.’ I stand facing him. ‘I’ve already seen you naked, remember?’
It doesn’t take me long to pull Lucien’s shirt over his head, and then he removes what remains of his clothing. This time, I do not drop my gaze.
I help him unlace my gown – defying the shame that is always waiting for a chance to taunt me over the appearance of my scars – and slip it and my undergarment off my shoulders. The fabrics puddle at my feet; I step out of them and lie on the bed, and Lucien comes to lie next to me. For a moment he stares down at me; I can feel his body trembling.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘You already know I want you.’ He brushes a hand across the curve of my hips. ‘But now – now I find I need you, Aderyn. Like I need water. Or air. I need you to be near me. And it scares me.’