Page 93 of Hexbound
"I'm not certain if it ever blossomed into love." Lady E's eyes watched her cannily. "He was fifteen and there was an entire Empire between them. But... it could have become more," Lady E conceded. "If Adrian weren't so afraid to let himself be with her."
"What happened?"
"Is he afraid to touch you, Verity?"
Heat speared through her cheeks, but she hadn't been raised in the Dials for nothing. "Sometimes he forgets himself, but... yes. He’s very concerned about losing control of his power. I thought he didn't approve of me at first."
That eyebrow arched again. "Oh, he approves of you. That was evident from the start. In fact, I think he's moved past approval and straight into yearning. But there are complications for Adrian, some of them ones that he's forced upon himself. Verity, what do you know of the Grave Arts?"
"There are sorcerers who are drawn to the darker aspects of life," she replied promptly. "My friend Mercy. And Bishop, and clearly this Horroway man."
"Who's the oldest Grave Arts sorcerer that you've ever encountered?"
"It's—" She racked her brain. "I don't know. Probably Horroway."
"Who's been dead for almost seven years."
A little tingle of nervousness latched on to her stomach. "What are you trying to say?"
"Every time Adrian kills, he feels the full force of the death blow rush through him. He thrives on it, lives for it, yearns for it. And with every kill, the rush becomes sweeter and the yearning stronger. That's the heavy sensation you felt hovering over him. Most Grave sorcerers only last forty or fifty years before the yearning becomes too strong and they start to kill too often, or even resort to murder. Some find respite by helping the dying to their rest. Sometimes it's enough to stave it off a few more years."
"But Adrian can't do that," Verity whispered. "He hates the idea of sitting like a vulture at someone's bedside."
Lady Eberhardt's expression grew carefully neutral. "Did he ever tell you why?"
"I suspect it has something to do with his mother's death."
"Partly. Amelia Bishop was his first encounter with sorcery. She was tending to the grate one night when Adrian was ill with the sweats. He was cold and his mother would have done anything to make him more comfortable, but on this particular night, a spark leapt from the grate and caught fire in her dress. By the time she and Adrian beat the flames out she was very badly burned. Adrian still bears the burn scars on his hands and face." Lady Eberhardt looked inwards again. "This was before either of them knew anything of sorcery. There was no way to heal her and the pain she was in... it was quite unendurable, I'm told. She survived. That's the best that can be said of the whole matter. But sometimes death is a kinder mistress than bearing that kind of pain, and when she turned to opium she grew quite melancholic and began to beg Adrian to end it all for her. That poor boy endured four months of her misery. She would have done it herself but he was determined to keep her alive, until one night... neither of them could bear it anymore. She'd tried to take too much opium but something dragged her back. In hindsight, it was probably his burgeoning powers, not quite ready to let her go. Indeed, Adrian's powers were the only way she'd survived in the first place, something he began to suspect."
"Oh, my goodness," Verity whispered, seeing it in her mind. "He killed her."
"He let her rest," Lady Eberhardt corrected. "He let her go and it was the bravest, hardest thing he's ever done. A nearby sorcerer caught the edges of it and arrived to find the boy weeping over her body, with no idea of his powers or what he could do. He thought himself cursed."
"Why didn't his father school him?"
"He needed a master of the Grave Arts to show him how to work his sorcery, and he couldn't bear to remain in England so it was deemed appropriate to give his apprenticeship over to Colonel Winthrop." Lady Eberhardt's voice dropped into a sneer. "Winthrop had recently signed on as a Servant of the Empire and was off to seek his fortune in Burma."
"With nobody the wiser about Winthrop's temperament."
"Precisely," Lady Eberhardt replied. "Winthrop was a terrible choice. He barely taught Adrian to control himself, given as he was to gaming and drinking, and once clear of England Winthrop was more interested in conquest and gaining a knighthood.
"And Burma is where Adrian met young Mya," Lady Eberhardt continued, "And therein lies our problem. True love ran its usual course with all the youthful problems of heated passions and tempestuous decisions. Romeo and Juliet didn't know how lucky they were with only two feuding families to deal with. Imagine two feuding Empires with assassinations, political gambits, lies, and broken truces on each side? And of course it all came to a head one night when she snuck into his tent."
"What happened?" This... this was the heart of it, and Verity desperately needed to know.
Lady Eberhardt plucked at the coverlet. "What do you think happened?"
Verity's heart raced.
"Two young sorcerers, one with the gift of the Grave.... Barely taught, trying desperately not to give himself over to emotions and the dangers of Expression, and thrust headlong into an act which is rarely ruled by rational thinking."
"He lost control," Verity breathed.
"He lost control." Lady E sighed. "He nearly killed the girl. Not intentionally of course, but in the throes of attempted passion the darker part of him started to listen to the rapid beat of her heart, the rush of her blood. Even as he kissed her, a part of him was lost in trying to seize that power, to drink in the last gasp of her breath. He didn't even know he was doing it until it was almost too late."
Verity's own breath caught. "But he didn't kill her, did he? He speaks of her as though she's still alive."
"Oh, she lived. He managed to draw back—just in time, mind you—and was forced to restart her heart with his healing gifts. And when Mya started to breathe again the full weight of the horror crashed in upon him. That was the last time he saw her. The last time he let himself see her. Instead, he threw himself into his studies, trying desperately to learn the meager scraps of control that he needed, whilst Winthrop set about creating havoc in the newly formed Burmese commonwealth. It wasn't until Adrian clashed with Winthrop about his callous treatment of the locals that Adrian was sent home in chains with a letter suggesting his gifts be extinguished by the Order. I was one of the councilors who sat in on his trial."
