In the Veins of the Drowning(33)

“And that pleases you, does it?”

“No.” He made his way back to his spot on the settee. “I’m mildly amused. Theodore is so good. These last few years, he’s followed every single rule every minute of every day. It’s a little entertaining to see him flounder.” He looked at me pointedly. “Despite the repercussions.”

“I see.” I gave up on the tonics, most of which were mixed with dream-inducing nepenthe, and made for the drink cabinet.

Lachlan eyed me over his shoulder. “You sure that’s wise?”

“It might take the edge off the worry.” I poured my own glass.

“Or make you more nauseated.”

“Not possible.” I took a deep drink and met Lachlan’s gaze. “You said the king has been following rules ‘these last few years.’ What was he doing before that?”

“Oh no.” He laughed, the sound warm and easy, and despite myself, I smiled. I liked him. I liked him for Agatha. “I’m not telling you a single private detail about him.”

I rounded the settee and sat on the low table before him. “I’ll put in a good word for you with Agatha.”

He went still, his hazel gaze narrowing in interest.

“Please.” My desperation was too potent for me to rein in. “I cannot find a single crack in his facade. I don’t trust that he’ll do right by me if I can’t find something, one small detail, that will knock him off his frustratingly perfect balance.”

Lachlan leaned back and considered me over the rim of his glass. He tapped his fingers against the crystal. “All right.”

“All right? You agree?”

“I do. You don’t seem to understand just how off-balance you’ve already knocked him, but I want a good word with Agatha.”

I straightened my shoulders and looked him square in the eye. “You really think I forced him, don’t you? You think I stole him.”

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “He mentioned that you climbed into his bed, in the dark, half-naked. At the very least you were very persuasive.” I glared at him, and he gave me a defeated smirk. “Okay—I believe wholeheartedly that he agreed to your binding. Listen to me, though, I don’t want to hurt him. I love him like a brother, so don’t you dare.” His gaze darted as he thought of what information to volunteer, until finally it landed on the wrinkled blue dress I wore. His eyes lit up. “Got it.” He put his elbows on his knees. I leaned in too. “When Theo was a very new king, about six years ago, he would take this ship and turn it into a somewhat sordid pleasure cruise. Went on for a couple years. He’d fill it with beautiful women and his best wine and men from his court and sail it around from sundown to sunrise.” He pointed to my dress. “That’s where your dress came from. Left behind. No idea what the poor woman wore off the ship.”

I looked down at the musty blue silk and back up to Lachlan. “Somewhat sordid. That’s it? Not debauched. Or sickeningly immoral. Wasn’t he nineteen or twenty? That’s incredibly normal behavior for a young king. What on earth am I supposed to do with that information?”

Lachlan’s mouth pulled into a wide smile. “It haunts him. He’s disgraced by it. He thinks it was a massive, embarrassing waste of the crown’s resources, and he’s spent the years since trying to rectify the light that he thinks it cast him in with his chancellor. You’d think he’d killed an innocent man with his bare hands the way he carries on about it.”

I took a sip of my drink. “Duty-bound to his core.”

He dipped his chin. “That’s right. Now, you tell Agatha that I’ve done nothing but think of her since I last saw her, and had she let me, I would have come to Seraf and whisked her away without a second thought.”

“She told you not to?”

He nodded. “I suspect her refusal to leave had something to do with you.”

“Oh.” I felt the accusation, the touch of resentment. I cocked my head. “But is that true? That you’ve done nothing but think of her for nearly twenty years?”

He downed the rest of his drink, then pursed his lips. I was surprised when the pretense fled his voice. “I’ve taken lots of lovers over the years. Women and men, all of them witty and beautiful. All better than I could ever deserve. But one letter from Agatha makes me feel more alive, more full of hope and calm and elation, than touching any of them ever did.”

His genuine smile tugged my mouth into a crooked one. “I’ll tell her that.”

He shook his head. “Please don’t. Tell her the other thing I said.”

“I’ll tell her a variation—I’ll skip the part about all the lovers.”

He hesitated, scratched the dark stubble on his chin, and finally nodded. He paused. “You haven’t thrown up in a while.”

My gaze slid down to the glass I held, and I raised my eyebrows, hopeful I’d found some cure, when the door to the cabin flew open and Theodore strode in.

My spine straightened. Theodore was pallid, with deep grooves of lingering discomfort between his brows. He stood just inside the door, a thick leather folder of papers at his side. He met my eyes, and then his gaze dipped to the dress I wore.

“It fits,” he said, his tone oddly flat.

“Yes. Do you like it?” I flounced the skirt over my lap and added in an overbright voice, “I’m fortunate that you kept it on your ship all these years.”