Page 45 of The Duke and the Disciple

“We should talk about this,” he said. “But I find myself at a loss for words.”

“Scholar...” Aesylt slid off the bed and started toward him, but he flinched, so she stopped. “I?—”

Rahn held up a hand, as though surrendering to something. “I know you’re trying to save this project. And I respect your commitment. But...” His hand traveled to his throat, scratching at stubble. “Even you believing it’s your responsibility means I’ve failed you.”

“That’snottrue.” Aesylt rushed over, despite the command in his eyes for her to stop, to keep her distance. “Everyone else is gone now. It’s up to us. Not you, both of us.” Her words tumbled out in a messy gust. “You may not see me as a partner, but that does not change my own feelings on the matter. There is no one else anymore.”

“Aesylt.”

“There is no one else!” She threw up her hands with a shaky inhale. “Tas is gone. Elara has taken a leave. Val is... I don’t know what Val is, but no matter how all this ends, he’s never coming back. But Niklaus is still here, and he wants to help. You said wemustinclude work done within the cohort, conducted by approved researchers, whose names are on record with the Reliquary.”

“Aesylt.”

“I’m going mad in here! I’m housebound, fighting everything inside of myself not to rush off again, try to fix this. I had nothing to do with what happened to Val, and yet I am forbidden from seeking the truth and putting this matter to rest. And all the while a war brews, in my name.” Her heartbeat soared so high, she felt dizzy, but she couldn’t stop the confession from rolling out of her. “Theonlything I’m allowed to do is our research, and if the skies are too cloudy for astronomy, that leaves one thing. One thing! And since you’re not capable of creating the separation between lust and science, then it is onmeand on Nik?—”

Rahn seized her by the shoulders, stilling the rest of her passionate monologue. “Aesylt. I’ll talk to Imryll.”

Her turmoil faded to suspicion. “Imryll? And say what exactly?”

“Maybe we can work on a third project on the cloudy days. We could... We could even help Jasika finish coastal patterns.”

Aesylt threw her head back and laughed. “How many bandages are we going to slap on this wound?”

“Will you give me until tomorrow?”

“You keep dancing around this issue, when there’s really only one way through, isn’t there?” Her pulse picked up again, sending blood rushing back to her face.

“Tomorrow. Please?” His eyes burned her, pleading harder than his words. How could he show so much concern for her choices but still fail to see her? To see she was right in front of him, ready to face a world of learning and adventure?

She didn’t understand him. Trying only hurt more.

“I don’t even know what I’m agreeing to.” She twisted out of his grip.

“Take a pause on the research for the night. We’ll go down for supper soon and then night will be here before long.”

“And who could eat when we are on the brink of war?” Her nose flared, her cheeks on fire. “Fine. Fine! Go.”

He exhaled his relief. “Thank you. Tomorrow?—”

“Go!” Aesylt yelled, putting her entire chest into it. She didn’t think of Teleria, whose suspicions would be undeniably raised, nor the guards, always listening. All she could process was the need for the man in front of her to leave before he turned her to dust.

“Very well.” He backed up slowly. Even in his retreat, he wouldn’t look at her. “I’m going.”

When he was out, she firmly shut and latched the door behind him, waiting until she heard his reluctant footsteps recede. Certain he was gone, she dropped in a crouch, placed her head between her knees, and exhaled the horror of the past minutes.

The drumming began justafter dusk. Rahn heard the first roll of the ominous elegy as he escorted an icy Aesylt to the dining hall, her walking two paces ahead with an unnatural pinch in her shoulders. Her head cocked slightly, enough to confirm she’d heard it too, but she didn’t miss a step.

Chanting joined the thrumming hymn as the table was set around them. Wearing a stricken expression, Imryll nestled Aleksy at her chest instead of in the infant seat beside her. Drazhan gripped his spoon and knife in opposite hands, staring across the table at nothing, at no one.

“Roast hare, sweetened tubers, and carrot pie.” The kitchen maid blurted the words fast enough to break Drazhan’s iron gaze and send it her way. She nearly tripped into her curtsy. “Enjoy.” The girl rushed back to the kitchen.

“Delicious.” Teleria regarded the spread with a slow exhalation. Her hand gently shook as she reached for the spoon to scoop her tubers.

More voices joined the wronged chorus at the bottom of the hill, but Rahn could no longer tell if they were still at the bottom or if they’d climbed closer. He had to put his trust in Drazhan’s hardened men, who had orders to treat any encroachment as an act of war. But his mind kept traveling to dark places, where good men turned traitor under the right combination of pressures.

“Shh, shh,” Imryll whispered to Aleksy when he broke out in tears. Her mouth brushed his head, her eyes glued on her husband.

“I can take him.” Aesylt rose, but Imryll shook her head. “You need a break.”

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