Page 27 of Invidia

“Ah. Well, come. Sit. Let me buy you a drink.”

I thought about objecting, but Roan had inherited the entire family estate and all the wealth that had come with it. He could buy me a drink.

“What brings you here?” I asked, wondering if Roan’s Council training was further along than Caius’s words had led me to believe.

“They’re training me up for a junior position on the Council of Shades,” Roan replied dismissively, confirming my theory. “Or rather, I’m competing for one. I have to attend these things now—you know, put in an appearance, do my part. I find it all very tiresome.”

“How terrible,” I deadpanned, though the sarcasm was entirely lost on Roan. “Shouldn’t you be in there, then? Watching the trial?”

“Nobody will miss me if I take a few minutes to myself, will they? It’s not like I’m the one on trial,” he laughed.

To Roan, that he was treated with such deference and given jobs and titles he didn’t deserve was simply to be expected. He’d challenged for the role of heir—after weakening Caius with a goblet of wine laced with liquid silver—and he’d won. And Roan treated his privilege with all the respect that someone who’d never had to honestly work for anything was capable of.

“How is Caius?” Roan asked, his casualness seeming slightly more forced now. “Have you seen him?”

“No,” I lied. Caius went out of his way not to be seen by anyone from his old life, and I would respect that choice. Given where I chose to spend the majority of my time, I could hardly judge him for it.

“An unfortunate business,” Roan mumbled. It was so like him to awkwardly brush off anything that made him uncomfortable that, for a brief moment, I actually felt like we were brothers again.

That feeling quickly disappeared as Roan began recounting all of his many blessings and successes in life, as he was wont to do whenever anyone gave him the opportunity to speak. At least he was easy company—Roan was so content to hear himself talk that I wasn’t obligated to add anything to the conversation. It was a good distraction from my own unsettled thoughts.

Though, the sadness in Tallulah’s eyes and scent when she’d looked at me continued to haunt me. Why was she sad if she’d been the one to end it? Perhaps she was worried she’d hurt my feelings. Tallulah was a compassionate person—she would hate the idea of upsetting someone. I should have reassured her more that I was okay, but I’d been in too much pain to give her those words at the time.

“I really don’t have any desire to work with the Council of Shades,” Roan sighed as I reminded myself to pay attention to the conversation—as one-sided and dull as it was. “But it’s the right thing to do. Respectful, you know. Of the family name. You have no idea the pressure that comes with the role.”

Roan wouldn’t cope for a moment being in my position, but it would be a waste of time pointing that out to him. Then again, Roan had never had to adapt to adversity. Maybe he would have coped just fine in my position if life had been a little less kind to him.

“I have a daughter. Did I mention that?”

I startled, blinking at him in surprise. “Since when?”

“She’s a few years old,” Roan replied with a dismissive flick of his hand. “Three or four, perhaps? She lives with her mother for now. Undoubtedly, she’ll move in with me when she’s older as the heir to the estate.”

I took back all the compassionate thoughts I’d just had. With every year that passed, I understood Roan less and less.

“You don’t feel as though you’re… oh, I don’t know. Missing out on her childhood?”

Roan laughed, looking at me as though I’d said the most outrageous thing he’d ever heard. “What’s there to miss out on? She doesn’t do anything yet. I’d forgotten how dire your company was when you were very young, always following me around, begging for attention. It annoyed me then and it annoys me now when Vivia does it. Best that I not have anything to do with her until she’s more interesting.”

I would do anything—anything—to be a father. It would never happen for me. Shade females only slept with me if they weren’t superstitious, and they were very desperate. It was an infrequent event, and the chances of conception were already low between us. And Tallulah was done with me, though frankly, she deserved a better prospect for the father of her children than me.

Roan had been given everything—and what he hadn’t been given, he’d betrayed his own brother to get—and yet it wasn’t enough for him to feel any kind of happiness.

It made me look back on my experience with Tallulah in a less devastated, more grateful light. I didn’t want to be filled with resentment over the one part of my life that had ever brought me joy.

Chapter 9

The following few days were a blur of activity as things got back to normal with Verity. They didn’t have to be a blur of activity—no one was asking all that much of me. But I was going out of my way to keep busy, anyway.

My denial had been ticking over pretty nicely when I hadn’t had to see Evrin. But looking into his glowing navy eyes, seeing him right in front of me and not being able to reach for him…

I needed to get over this Shade or I was going to drive myself insane.

“There you are!” Ophelia said, greeting me with a beaming smile and a hug as I headed back inside Elverston House. Meera shot me a brief smile before scurrying back out to the quiet of the garden, apparently content to off-load socializing duties now that I was back. “Meera said you’d gone out.”

“I was talking to Astrid about some extra supplies for Verity. Were you looking for me? I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Not at all. Shall we sit in the drawing room? I raided the palace kitchen for treats. Calix is in a particularly cheerful mood this morning—he’s been so much nicer now he’s all loved up.”

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