Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

In the days that followed, things had calmed around the manor and within Archwood. There had been no more ni’mere attacks or word concerning the Iron Knights and the Westlands’ princess, nor had I found any more guards involved in the shadow-market trade.

Things were normal.

I spent time in the gardens and with Naomi, sat with Grady in the evenings. I joined Claude for his suppers and rode Iris through the meadows between the manor and the city, and I found pleasure in these things, like a good little lowborn.

But each night, I went into the gardens, and I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t because of him. That I wasn’t out there because I hoped to find the Hyhborn lord among the wisteria blossoms. That it had nothing to do with the odd feeling that haunted me as days turned into weeks.

Lord Thorne hadn’t returned, but that feeling I’d had the first time we met remained. I knew I would see him again.

Tonight I’d stayed in my quarters, not feeling up to socializing. I was in a weird mood; one I couldn’t quite decipher. Alone, I’d spent much of the evening watching the sōls drifting across the lawn and into the gardens while the hum of music from the lawn followed the warm breeze. I’d even gone to bed at an unreasonably early time, but I’d woken suddenly, sometime before midnight, heart racing. It was like waking from a nightmare, but I wasn’t even sure I’d been asleep long enough to dream.

That had been half an hour ago, and unable to fall back asleep, I returned to my chair, a book unopened in my lap as I watched the sōls. I revisited that odd feeling that remained, like I’d done so many times since I’d last seen Lord Thorne. I just couldn’t figure it out, and it preyed upon my mind. Why would I think I needed to remain by his side when the ni’meres arrived? Wasn’t like I would’ve been much help, unless screaming frightened them away.

Why did I feel like I . . . I no longer belonged where I was, more so than normal? I was beginning to think that was the source of my mood tonight—

A loud series of raps caused me to give a little jump. I twisted toward the door as I heard Grady call out, “Lis? You in there?”

“Coming.” I rose, tightening the sash on my robe. Worry sprang to life as I crossed the narrow space, opening the door. I could think of only two reasons Grady would come to my chambers at this time of night. Sometimes it was just to share the same bed when he was having trouble sleeping— a comfort born out of the years of doing so, and which helped, since neither of us slept all that well. The other reason was, well, potentially stressful.

Grady stood alone in the dimly lit hallway. “The Baron has summoned you.”

My shoulders tensed. “Hell,” I muttered, not wasting time changing into more suitable clothing. I stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind me as I glanced up at Grady. “Do you know why?”

“I don’t,” he answered. “All I do know is that he was in the solarium when Hymel came to get him. He left for about a half an hour, then came back and told me to retrieve you.”

I drew my lower lip between my teeth. The options were truly limitless when it came to Claude, but I seriously doubted he’d want me to take part in whatever celebrations were occurring at this hour.

Grady led me through the back halls of the manor, the ones traveled only by staff and those who didn’t want to risk the chance of running into anyone. We ended up at the small antechamber that sat behind the Great Chamber.

There were a few people in the antechamber, but my attention focused on Claude. I hadn’t seen him since his earlier temper tantrum, and I wondered if he too was thinking of that when our eyes met, because his cheeks flushed. I didn’t think it had anything to do with the blonde half sprawled in his lap. Her eyes were unfocused as Claude tapped her on the hip, urging her to rise. She half slid onto the empty portion of the settee, and I had a feeling she’d been enjoying the laudanum-laced wine that was often served for the Baron’s closest friends.

“How are you feeling, pet?” the Baron asked as I approached him.

Immediately, I caught the sickly sweet stench of Midnight Oil, and I had to stop myself from launching into a tirade. “Well. What is going on?”

“I’m not sure. We have unanticipated guests,” he shared as he guided me away from the settee, his steps sluggish. He kept his voice low as Grady approached us. “It is a member of the Royal Court that has requested shelter for him and three others for the evening.”

Every part of my being tensed. Members of the Royal Court were often chancellors. “That is uncommon.”

“My sentiments exactly.” We stepped back from those in the chamber. “He isn’t saying why he’s here, claiming that he’ll speak with me in the morning when . . .”

“When what?” I asked when he trailed off.

“When, as he said, ‘I’m of clear mind’ or some other variation of that.” Claude’s cheeks deepened in color, and I suddenly understood his flush. I too would be embarrassed if a chancellor arrived with potentially important business to discuss and I was too intoxicated or high to do so. He cleared his throat, chin lifting. “I would like for you to go to him and see if you can ferret out his reasoning for being here.”

Aware of others around us, I kept my voice low. “You can’t wait to find out yourself in the morning?”

“It’s not the waiting that will keep me up all night stressed. It’s not knowing what he wants by the time we meet. I need to be prepared for this meeting.” He sounded positively aghast at the notion. “You already know how hard it is for me to sleep.”

It was hard for all of us to sleep, but I didn’t think the Baron was aware of that.

“I am . . .” He dipped his head as he brushed a strand of hair back from my shoulder. “I am worried that he brings word from the Royal Throne— the King. I may be a . . . tad bit late on the quarterly tithes.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered.

A rather high-pitched giggle escaped Claude, and my brows shot up as I stared at him. “Sorry,” he murmured, lips twitching. “I need your special aid, pet.”

What Claude needed was to indulge less in his party favors and stop spending coin on frivolous bullshit.

But what none of us, those who relied on him keeping his shit together, needed was for Claude to get himself even more worked up. That would likely result in him smoking more of the Midnight Oil and being a complete mess by the time he was to speak with the chancellor of the Royal Court. And if this was because he’d failed to pay his quarterly taxes, Claude would need to be in top form to plead for any necessary forbearance and forgiveness.

“Okay,” I sighed. “I will do this.”

A toothy smile appeared. “Thank you— ”

“If you promise me that you will go to bed,” I interrupted. “You need to rest.”

“Of course,” he agreed too quickly. “That is the plan.”

I eyed him.

“I swear,” he added, a flop of dark hair falling over his forehead. “I want to be fresh as aired laundry— ” He giggled again, this time at himself. “I will be sleeping very soon.”

“You better,” I warned.

“You are a rare jewel,” he exclaimed, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead. “Enjoy yourself, Lis.”

The Baron patted my shoulder again, and I turned from him before I did something reckless, like knocking him on his ass.

Followed by Grady, I crossed the antechamber, catching sight of Naomi. Her gaze briefly met mine as I passed. I glanced pointedly in Claude’s direction, and she rolled her eyes, but nodded. This wasn’t the first time she was tasked with making sure the Baron made it to his bed alone. She wheeled toward Claude, a laugh spilling from her lips— beautiful, but I caught the hint of annoyance in the sound. For some reason I recalled the first time I’d been asked to do whatever it took to ensure I could gain what Claude wanted, which required me to behave as a courtesan. It had been Naomi who had taken me aside, took what limited knowledge I had when it came to the various degrees of intimacy, and prepared me for what was to come. After all, I had been a virgin before meeting Claude, having experienced only a few hasty gropings that ended with me hearing things I’d wished I hadn’t.

But Naomi had also prepared me with something even Claude was unaware of. Knowledge of how the Long Night could be used. Grady always carried a small pouch of it in the breast pocket of his tunic. With it, I could choose exactly how far I wished the evening to progress.

Sadly, I’d used the Long Night more often than not, and tonight would likely be no different.

“I need to see Maven,” I told Grady when we left the antechamber.

Grady’s shoulders tensed, but he nodded. Entering another narrow, even less traveled hall, we stopped in front of a rounded, wooden door set within an alcove. Like always, the robed figure of the silver-haired Maven answered at the sound of the knock. I walked into her candlelit chamber, leaving Grady in the hall, his jaw so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if he cracked his molars.

One look around the space and I saw that she had been expecting me, meaning that either Claude or Hymel had already alerted her. Annoyance flashed. What would Claude have done if I had said no?

But why would he have thought that I would? I didn’t tell him no. Doing so rarely crossed my mind, because this was how I made sure I was invaluable to the Baron. This was how I ensured that Grady and I would never end up back on the streets. So, I wasn’t sure whom I should be more annoyed with. Me or him?

Maven’s space was more of a preparation chamber, outfitted with all the necessities— a clawfoot tub filled with steaming, scented water, brushes and racks of clothing. There was a narrow table where more intense preparation occurred— the waxing and plucking of all the hair on my body except for what grew from my scalp. Claude preferred that long, so it reached my waist now. I didn’t mind the length of hair on my head, but if I ever decided to leave, I was never going to touch a single piece of hair anyplace else again. Thankfully the removal of body hair had already routinely taken place.

I went to the tub, disrobing in the silence. Maven wasn’t known for being talkative. She didn’t speak. Not once as the nightgown slipped from my shoulders and slid over my hips, or while I stepped into the tub and bathed myself. She just waited, a towel held in those crooked fingers, her gaze rheumy but alert.

Naomi had once told me that Maven was the Baron’s grandmother on his father’s side, but Valentino, one of the other paramours, said that she was the widowed wife of one of the past groundskeepers. Lindie, a cook at the manor, claimed that Maven had been a mistress of one of the past Barons, but I was of the opinion that she was a wraith that somehow had managed to keep the flesh on her bones. I glanced at the papery thin skin of her forearms. She barely kept the flesh on her bones.

Once I’d finished in the tub, she dried me off as roughly as humanly possible. Maven also wasn’t known for her gentleness. I stood naked, toes curling against the floor as she shuffled to the rack. The hangers clanged off one another as she flipped through the clothing, eventually pulling out a robe that was the color between cyan and blue. The shade of the Midlands’ cloudless sky.

I shoved my arms into the wrapper and stood still as she knotted the sash so tightly the fabric cut into the soft skin of my waist. One glance in the standing mirror confirmed what I already knew. The vee of the neckline was absurdly deep and the robe was more gossamer than cloth. If I walked in brighter light, the exact shade of the skin surrounding my nipple would be known.

Swallowing a sigh, I went to the stool, sitting so Maven could undo all the pins holding up my hair. She then brushed out the tangles, jerking my head back with each stroke. My nails dug into my palms throughout the whole process; I was sure I’d be half bald soon. When she finished, no more than an hour had passed. She opened the door, leaving me to rejoin Grady in the hall. She didn’t follow. Her task was done for the night.

Neither Grady nor I spoke until we entered the silent hall leading to the various wings of the manor. Only the soft light of the moon streaming in through the windows lit our way, thank the gods.

Twisting my fingers around the sash, I stared ahead, breathing in the air scented with honeysuckle that flourished along the walls of the manor as I thought of other times I’d been asked to use my abilities. Usually it was a visiting baron or another member of the aristo. My intuition usually was able to warn whether the visitor could be trusted or if they were up to something. I could even sense more, if that was what Claude wanted. He liked to know what made the others tick so that he could use that in potential dealings.

“Here,” Grady finally said, reaching into the breast pocket of his tunic, dropping a small coin-sized pouch into my palm. The laughter that usually filled his deep brown eyes was nowhere to be seen, nor were those boyishly charming dimples that had gotten him out of so much trouble when we were younger. “Find out what you need to know and get out.”

I glanced down at the black pouch containing the Long Night. Claude’s targets were never aware that they’d been drugged. The Long Night was odorless and tasteless. “Did you see who has come?”

“No. I only know of the chamber, but I’m assuming it’s a chancellor.” His nostrils flared. “I don’t like this, Lis.”

“I know.” Curling my fingers around the pouch, I slipped it into the pocket of the robe, where the material was thankfully thicker. “But you shouldn’t worry. I’ll have it under control.”

Lips pressed together, he shook his head as we walked a little farther, his hand clutching the hilt of his sword. We neared the east wing, which overlooked the courtyards and the sections of the gardens where the roses bloomed. The chambers here were stately, reserved only for those the Baron sought to impress.

I glanced up at Grady. The muscle along his jaw was ticking. “You understand that I don’t have to do this. That I’m choosing to do this.”

Grady’s brows flew up. “Really?”

“Yes. I could’ve said no. Claude wouldn’t have made me do it, and if I don’t want things to progress, I’ll use the Long Night once I find out why this chancellor is here. Hopefully, it’s not because Claude is late on his tithe, because we really don’t need that on top of everything else to worry about,” I said. “Tonight is no different than any other night.”

The muscle continued to pulse at his jaw. “You speak as if this is not a big deal.”

Folding my arms over my chest, I looked away. The thing was, these meetings were complicated, because sometimes it wasn’t a big deal. Sometimes I enjoyed the touching. It wasn’t like those I met under these circumstances were always bad, odious people. Often they were charming and interesting, and I . . . could touch them without the guilt of seeing or sensing what they likely wanted to keep hidden. I could shovel that blame onto Claude, and yeah, I knew how messed up that was. Deep down, I knew I still shared some of that guilt. Either way, I walked away from these encounters unharmed, and there had been only a few times I sensed things I felt like I’d never be able to erase the memory of.

Walking once more, there were just the sounds of his boots and my robe whispering against the stone floor until we came to a set of double doors.

“We’re here,” Grady said quietly. “If anything happens . . .”

“I scream,” I told him— something I’d yet to have to do.

Grady stepped in to me, his hand moving to my arm. “Be careful,” he whispered. “Please.”

My heart squeezed. “I will be.” I smiled at him. “It’ll be okay.”

Grady stiffened. “You keep saying that.”

“And maybe you’ll start believing me.”

“Or maybe you’ll start believing it.”

I tensed. A weird mixture of sensation hit me— confusion and an emotion that scalded my insides, making me wonder if I shouldn’t be okay with any of this. If I already knew the answer to that and my words were all false bravado and deflection. I turned from him, more than just a little unsettled. But now wasn’t the time for deep introspection.

Because I was already a bit nervous. I was every time I did this. I liked to think anyone would be, because I never knew what was waiting on the other side of the walls. I wasted no more time, reaching for the gold ornate knobs. Unlocked as expected. I stepped inside an antechamber lit by a lone lamp placed by a deep-seated settee. The doors made no sound as I closed them behind me. I hesitated for only a few seconds as I scanned the space. It was empty except for the rich furnishings draped in lush fabrics and carved out of smooth, glossy wood, but there was . . . there was a presence here.

A tangible energy that coated my skin, eliciting a wave of goose bumps. My mouth dried as I turned to the rounded archway that led to the bedchambers. Fingers still twisting the sash nervously between them, I started forward even as unease resurfaced.

I assumed that whoever was here would be expecting company. Surely, Claude would’ve made sure of that. After all, the doors were unlocked. But I heard nothing as I entered the darkened bedchamber. My steps slowed as I allowed my vision to adjust to the darkness. I inched closer, making out the door leading to the bathing chamber left slightly ajar. Power also drenched the walls and floor. Tiny shivers coursed over my skin. My heart began to pound even faster. I knew this feeling, and there was a scent here. A soft, woodsy aroma that reminded me of—

Suddenly, I could no longer see the door of the bathing chamber. The room had become pitch black, leaving me blind, and that . . . yeah, that wasn’t normal. I started to take a step back.

A rush of warm air stirred the edges of my robe. My fingers slipped away from the sash as I went completely still, holding my breath. The nape of my neck tingled. The air of the chamber shifted, thickened and became electrified, reminding me of the atmosphere right before lightning struck.

I wasn’t alone in the utter, unnatural darkness. The breath in my lungs left me in one ragged exhale as an acute awareness pressed against the entire right side of my body. It was like I was suddenly standing too close to open flames. Instinct kicked in, not the kind fueled by my abilities but the kind fueled by pure need to survive. It screamed that I flee.

My trembling lips parted to speak or maybe scream, but before a single sound could escape, an arm came around my waist, jerking me back against a hard wall of muscle. I was lifted until my feet no longer touched the floor— until they dangled several inches from the floor.

There was no mortal I knew who could lift me so easily, and that could only mean—

“I have two questions, and each answer better be honest,” a deep voice drawled, his cadence of speech almost relaxed but the tone low in warning, at the same instant a warm, callused hand pressed on the expanse of skin above my breasts, forcing my back against a . . . a chest. “What are you doing in my quarters?” Breath stirred the wisps of hair at my temple. “And do you have a death wish?”