Page 134 of A Game of Veils

I’m sure I’ve felt this low and lost before. When I first arrived at the palace. When Tarquin marched Pavel to his execution. But it’s been years.

There hasn’t been anything for me to feel this strongly about in all that time. Not until now, when I grasped joy close only to have it wrenched away by the only people I believed I could count on.

My hand clenches around the neck of the lute. I have the sudden, wild impulse to bash it against the nearest tree trunk, as if destroying something else I care about would sate the anguish inside for more than an instant.

Too much rancor has built up inside me for me to hold back my illusionary voice. “It doesn’t matter. To you or to her, obviously. I was being a fool, like you’ve always warned me.”

Raul grimaces and steps forward. “That’s not true. She was very clear about how much she cares about you.”

“Strange way of showing it.”

“Lore.” He lets out a growl of frustration. “You shouldn’t blame her, not at all. It was our fault. When we heard how many secrets you spilled to her and realized she fucked you after she rebuffed our advances—we got suspicious.”

Bastien shoots him a pointed look. “And jealous.”

Raul glowers at him. “I wasn’t alone in that.” He turns back to me. “We found her in the vacant room already trying to put the information you gave her to use. It looked bad. We laid into her, and she told us off—called us idiots for thinking she’d have been with you as some kind of scheme.”

“She told us that she trusted you more than us,” Bastien puts in. “That she’s falling in love with you.”

“And that she’s falling for us too, even though we’ve been much bigger assholes to her.” Raul swipes his hand over his face. “Hearing her say that—I got caught up. I wanted to test how true it was. It’s not as if you weren’t aware I’ve been pursuing her. I’m the one who suggested we should.”

I can’t deny that fact, even though remembering it sends an uncomfortable lump sinking into my gut. “You didn’t say you’d gotten anywhere.”

“I hadn’t really. I wasn’t going to report all my failures. That’s part of why I couldn’t understand— But it makes sense. You were what she needed the most.”

Bastien swallows audibly. “Barely anything had happened between me and her before that moment. I kissed her the other day and she stopped me. That’s it. But it’s hard not to appreciate her, isn’t it? Seeing how deftly she’s handled everything Tarquin and Marclinus have thrown at her, the fortitude she’s shown through every setback… You know I didn’t set out to care about her.”

I do. And there’s no mistaking the affection running through his voice as he speaks about her now.

Bastien isn’t much for big emotional declarations. Him saying he appreciates and cares about her might as well be an announcement of utter devotion.

Can I really tell him that I’m more worthy of her?

I focus on Raul. “What about you? Is it all about having a tumble and being able to say you won her?”

His flinch answers my question before he even speaks. His voice comes out rough. “No. I’ve never craved anyone the way I want her, but it’s not just— When I thought I didn’t have any chance at all— She’s an amazing woman. She should have so much more than that prick Marclinus would think to offer her, in every way.”

We agree on that much.

I exhale slowly, the tension in my chest loosening but not leaving. Where do we go from here?

None of us can have her, not really. Maybe the worst part of this whole mess is how wrong that feels.

Even if I never got to touch Aurelia again, I’d rather see her in Bastien’s or Raul’s arms than Marclinus’s.

Bastien takes in my stance and must judge that my temper has dwindled enough. He beckons to me. “This isn’t something we can fully hash out without taking Aurelia into account. We made too many assumptions behind her back already. I doubt she’s sleeping well after what happened tonight. Let’s go to her, sort the rest out—and offer her whatever comfort we can, if she’ll accept it.”

A gleam lights in Raul’s eyes that makes me want to punch him. I’m pretty sure Bastien, at least, means “comfort” in its least provocative sense.

“It sounds like we all owe her some apologies too,” I say. “Rather than immediately trying to sweep her up in some new seduction attempt.”

Raul’s jaw ticks, but his expression turns chagrinned. “I can keep my dick in my pants.”

“You haven’t offered much proof of that claim so far.”

Bastien sighs the way he always does when we squabble and waves us toward the palace more insistently. “Come on, before the sun’s rising again.”

It wouldn’t be wise to march up to Aurelia’s bedroom door and demand entrance in the middle of the night. We slip through the palace halls to the unused bedroom that’s been our usual entry point, then weave through the narrow, stuffy passages to the one that ends at her chambers.

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