Page 111 of Last of His Blood
“All right,” she agreed. “You really have guards all the time?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad,” she said, and bent obediently over the next paper he presented to her.
There was so much to teach her. Maps of the capital, with safe houses and meeting places marked, though she had only seen one city in her whole life and the thought of her attempting to navigate Segoile by herself made his heart palpitate. It was his intention that she should never be separated from him, much less parted from Leonin and Davi, but he would prepare her as best he could. Lady Verr taught her about the finer parts of the city, the safe places with guards, frequented by nobles. Remin told her about the parts of the city she should avoid, and what to do if she ever found herself in them.
It infuriated him that she had to know this. That the bastard Emperor was forcing this upon them. Every night after these lessons, he looked into her eyes and worried that he might make her afraid, might make her anxious, might be teaching her that the world was an ugly place when hestill believed it could be beautiful, if only they were let alone to make it so.
And finally, he told her about House Hurrell.
He did it while they were already at the table together and halfway through their study of the Wold, maybe in the hope that he could make it seem a part of the lesson.On this street we have a safe house, and two blocks that way, House Hurrell has their new manse.
“Edemir said they arrived a month ago,” Remin said, covering both her hands with one of his own. “They must have received a pardon from the Emperor. Which means he has some use for them.”
“They had to go somewhere.” She tried to smile, but it wilted around the edges. “I did…wonder.”
“Can you guess what they might know, or why he might have pardoned them?” Remin didn’t have much hope for either.
“No. I did try to think of it, ever since you took me,” she admitted, and looked up at him guiltily. “I didn’t tell you. I should have told you. Lady Hurrell said…she said, if I didn’t obey her, then she would tell everyone that I tried to run away from you. She said she would spread it all over the Empire. She said…”
Her slim shoulders hunched.
“She knew what my mother did,” she whispered. “That day, when we left Aldeburke, she told me she would tell you if I didn’t do what she said, and you would…kill me.”
He was so appalled, for a moment he couldn’t speak.
“No,” he managed, and rose immediately, dismayed by the fear lurking in her eyes. “No, I would not. Ever.Ever,”he repeated, catching her shoulders in his hands and squeezing. “No matter what. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes. I know,” she said, with a quivering sigh as he moved them both to his chair by the fire. “I should have told you, I’m sorry. I don’t know what she’ll do, but she’ll hurt us if she can. She wanted you to marry Lisabe.”
“Then I will continue to disappoint her,” Remin said firmly, and that was the end of lessons for that night.
These were not the things that he wanted to talk to her about. Hehadthings he wanted to teach her, everything he had learned about how to lead and build and plan. He wanted to dream with her about their city. But now he had no choice but to let all the foulest things he knew pour out like poison.
He told her about poison. He taught her how to pretend to eat and drink—she was not very good at either—and explained how her food would be tested for poison and then tasted beforeher. As a daughter of the House of Agnephus, she had a right to demand proof that her food was clean.
He had an endless stream of cautions about how wine should taste, and how she should spit out anything if she felt the least bit suspicious, and also that she ought not linger near braziers, which might contain strange alchemical powders. If she ever saw or smelled smoke in a room, she was to instantly check the people around her to see if they were behaving strangely; incense might contain soporifics or intoxicants. And there were even worse things that he could not bring himself to tell her, powders with aphrodisiac properties, powders that…
Countless dangers, each one filthier than the last. Did he really have to tell her aboutallof them?
His lamb, whose innocence he wanted so badly to protect.
After these lessons, he took her to bed, where he tried to blot all these terrible thoughts from her mind, reassuring them both with the strength of his body. To prove that he could keep her safe. Hewould.No matter what it took.
Maybe he succeeded. After they made love, she curled up against him just as she always did and fell asleep, leaving him to look at her and wonder. Ophele always said she was fine. And he feared to even ask that question too often, lest simple, stupid repetition ruin all his efforts.
He wanted her to feel safe.
He never wanted her to feel the way he did.
He never wanted her to have nightmares like his.
At night, he lay awake in the dark and thought of all the worst things. Trying to tell himself that he was doing everything he could, and these dangers were in the future and might never materialize. It was necessary to think of them, and plan for them, but counterproductive to dwell on them.
The next morning, he woke to a knock on the door, and Auber’s grim face on the other side.
“I’m sorry,” Auber said without preamble. “I had to come get you. Someone tried to kill Wen.”
