“Yes, Your Highness.” Realizing that he has overstepped, Ciel’s tone becomes formal.
“I will receive your report tomorrow, in my office. Enjoy the rest of your Seinmas. Ciel.”
“I don’t think I quite have the appetite for Iacovan Quaternian Physics anymore,” he mutters. “Maybe some good old fashioned smut will cheer me up.”
I leave him amidst his books and medicines and equipment, glancing at the patient as I head for the door.
The young man looks a little better, at least. The pallor in his cheeks isn’t quite as bad anymore. The shadows around his eyes are a little lighter.
What the fuck were you doing, nameless lad, coming to my lands in the middle of winter, so poorly equipped, and with her in your company?
I still haven’t figured out who I need to be furious with.
Or who I need to kill.
11
FINLEY
The guest dining room of Tyron Castle feels so different from the cold, cavernous hall in Ruen where we used to take our meals.
The three of us are seated at a round table. The chairs are comfortable; cushioned and deep, with polished wooden armrests. A fire burns in the hearth, suffusing the room with warmth.
Although the walls and floors are bare stone; raw and unrefined and brutal, the furnishings are luxurious. The silken rug on the floor is large and impossibly fine, deep red and woven with an intricate floral tapestry.
Its color reminds me of blood; of the crimson that was all over that pale demon’s lips.
My blood.
A sliver of heat unfurls in my chest and shoots downwards, slipping into my core, dancing between my thighs. I go perfectly still as the memory of his touch invades my mind.
He bit me. Not only that, he did it without my permission, restraining me while he took what he damn well pleased.
I should be repulsed, but the torrent of emotion coursing through me is more complicated than that. I can’t forget the way he released me; the momentary look of confusion on his face, as if he himself was shocked at what he’d done.
I can’t forget the way he immediately agreed to render assistance to Aderick, with no questions asked.
At least, I hope that’s what he’s done.
It’s out of our hands now.
“You okay, Fin?” Kastel leans forward, his hazel eyes filled with worry.
“I, uh…” Heat rises in my cheeks. “Why do you ask, Kastel?”
“You look a little flustered, that’s all. But it’s understandable.” He leans back in his seat and lets out a long sigh, running his fingers through his tawny hair. “That thing wasn’t human. I shouldn’t have let him take Aderick.”
“What choice did we have?” Garan is seated across from me. Dark-haired, stubble-faced, and powerfully built, he’s completely transformed from the skinny, lanky youth I used to scold when he and my brothers played pranks on me.
He’s shed his leather armor. His grey undertunic is flecked with blood. “There’s no way Kastel or I could have fought that guy. You saw the way he moved. Inhumanly fast. But I didn’t sense ill intentions from him. He would’ve just killed us all if that was the case. Anyhow, the Archduke sent out an escort, just like the demon said he would. I wouldn’t be surprised if that bastard and Archduke Duthriss are connected.”
“What makes you say that?” Unease turns my thoughts cold.
“Well, they say the war changed him. The arcane magic the barbarians used against our soldiers… that he embraced it. There’s speculation he’s even made alliances with some of them. That he turns a blind eye to the dark magic they practice, in exchange for power.
“But it’s forbidden,” I murmur. In Rahava, the use of arcane magic is highly illegal and punishable by death. Arcane magic is connected to death, and death should stay in Hecoa’s domain.
Is drinking blood… a form of arcane magic, then?
That strange man I encountered… was he a warlock?
“Why do you think we came after you?” Kastel leans forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I cannot believe father did this to you, Finley. This grand building project of his has driven him mad.”
I resist the urge to shake my head. No, Kastel. He’s always been this way with me. You were just too young to see it. “You shouldn’t have come here,” I say instead, my anger rising. “What were you thinking? For the three of you to come to Tyron alone? You could have been killed!”
“You would have been killed, Fin,” Kastel shoots back, his expression darkening. “Or worse. Look what happened to our people back there. Your escorts. Men that have served under father for years and years. All dead. If he knew you were coming, that fucking archduke should have sent an escort to meet you at the border. We just don’t have those kinds of resources.”
Guilt and sorrow hit me like a crossbow bolt through the chest.
They’re all dead.
I should be amongst them.
Behind us, a man clears his throat.
My gaze snaps toward the other side of the room, where the heavy wooden doors are open.
A figure stands in the doorway, hands folded behind his back, a cryptic almost-smile on his lips. He’s tall and slender, with golden hair and blue eyes and elegant features that stop just short of being effeminate.
What is with these Tyronese men and their long hair?
“Pardon my intrusion,” the man says calmly. “My name is Vinciel Sacrosan. I am Edinvar’s head physician. The fucking archduke has ordered me to update you on your brother’s condition. He has been treated for his injuries and is currently stable. The hepatic trauma was severe and certainly life-threatening. Fortunately, I was able to initiate a treatment that induces rapid healing.”
“In plain language, please, Sir.” My brother’s forehead furrows with worry.
“He’ll live.”
Kastel’s expression is ridiculous; caught somewhere between astonishment and relief.
He’ll live.
I close my eyes and let out a deep, shuddering sigh. All the anger and tension flow out of me.
Aderick will live. My foolhardy, reckless kid brother, who is yet to learn how the world truly works…
He’ll live.
A pang of guilt creeps into my heart. “Will there be any permanent damage?”
“Unlikely. He’s young. He’ll heal well. As long as he spends the next several weeks recuperating—with proper bedrest—he should make a full recovery. But he is not to exert himself in any way until I give the all-clear.”
“I understand. I’ll make sure he follows your instructions to the letter.”
“I’m sure you will.” Vinciel Sacrosan gives me a strange look. I can’t decipher his expression in the slightest.
I blink.
Did I hear correctly before?
Just before… did he say… fucking archduke?
I must be dreaming, because the physician looks like butter wouldn’t even melt in his mouth. His gaze is cool and analytical. He’s urbane and polished. “My lady, I am informed that there may have been a certain incident during your travels. His Highness has asked that I check you over.”
I stiffen. Incident? Does the physician know about the blood-drinking? “I-I’m fine.”
Vinciel won’t be swayed. “Nevertheless, I have my orders, and it’s never a good idea to disregard Archduke Duthriss’s will. It will not take long. I can examine you here, or in a private room. Whichever is your preference.”