Page 100 of The Duke and the Disciple

“Information.”

“I’m not sure I can be much help, but I’m happy to try.”

“You have the trust and ear of Steward Wynter.” Rustan drew a sip. Foam lingered on his red beard.

“Not half of what I imagine he has for his own lord.”

Rustan swatted the air. He snatched a chunk of bread from the basket and offered one to Rahn, who politely refused. “This isn’t the Easterlands, Tindahl. I’m not a lord who commands what should be given freely, and this is a rather delicate matter. I don’t believe it would suit anyone for me to turn it into a mandate.”

Rahn gripped the mug in his hand with budding apprehension. “I’ll admit, you have my curiosity. And a touch of my concern as to where this is heading.”

“My wife would say I’m not much for suspense, so we’ll get on with it.” He tossed his bread back in the basket untouched. “I’ve been giving some thought to the matter of our Aesylt’s lack of prospects. Lack of prospects isn’t the problem though, is it? It’s her brother turning away perfectly acceptable suitors.”

“I can’t offer much perspective there, I’m afraid,” Rahn said carefully. He had a hunch where the conversation was headed but hoped he was wrong. It was odd enough that Dereham was involving himself in the civil matters of one of his stewards. “Drazhan has his own reasons for everything. Ones he does not see fit to share, many times.”

“But he is not seriously entertaining any offers?”

Rahn shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. Imryll may know more.”

“So he has not sent you along to Wulfsgate as a test of sorts? A worthiness challenge?”

“Sorry?”

“He’s not evaluating you for the role of her husband and protector?”

Rahn’s breath caught in the middle of an uncomfortable laugh. “No... no. That is not... on the table.”

Rustan rapped his knuckles on the chair’s arms. “He could do no better than a duke for her. Perhaps it’s your age, which is shortsighted, considering the years between him and the stewardess. Good for me but not for thee.” He frowned in thought, and Rahn’s uneasiness sank deeper. “If you’re certain it would not impede on any plans you have with Aesylt, then I’ll aim to move forward with proposing a match between her and Pieter.”

Rahn sputtered his ale back into the cup and frantically wiped his mouth before shoving the mug rudely onto the table.

“You all right, Tindahl?”

“Went down wrong,” Rahn screeched. He should have seen it coming. Hehadseen it coming, long before the gentle library ambush, and had convinced himself he had been reading more into things than was there. As Rustan no doubt saw things, Aesylt needed a husband, and Rustan needed a more malleable—and settled—son.

Rustan waited for him to stop coughing. “Pieter has not always been a source of pride for us, but he’s home now, and I believe with the right match, he’ll be ready to take his place at my side. He’s taken an interest in Aesylt—purely academic, as I understand, but most matches begin with less, wouldn’t you say?”

“Mm.” Rahn nodded to hold back his distaste.

“If Wynter refusesthismatch, the best anyone in the Cross has everbeen offered, we’ll know he has no intention of betrothing poor Aesylt, and at that point...” Rustan sighed. “Intervention on her behalf, by me, may be necessary. It is her right to marry. Her life should not be sidelined by an overprotective brother. As her liege lord, I won’t allow her to suffer needlessly.”

“I agree; it is her right,” Rahn said, clawing at his neck like it would help the itch there. “But would it not be sensible to ask Aesylt what she thinks before moving forward with a formal proposal?”

Rustan snorted with a look that said,huh? “Why?”

“Should her own wishes have no part in this?”

“Our cub has already expressed her wishes, and they have been ignored and denied by Steward Wynter.” Rustan’s cheeks swelled red with the start of anger. “Pieter has been her friend since childhood. They’re very fond of one another. Guardians, they even share interests. Pieter won’t crush her excitement for learning, like many men would. What highborn woman is so fortunate? My own daughter will probably not be half as lucky in the man we’ve chosen for her.”

Impartially, Rustan wasn’t wrong. Pieter would be a fine match for Aesylt, at least at the surface. But Rahn didn’t trust him a whit, and he certainly didn’t trust him to be honorable with Aesylt. He’d already shown he wasn’t above violating her privacy. If he did keep their secret, it would be a matter of judiciousness, nothing more. When it served him, he’d weaponize it.

“Furthermore,” Rustan said, “it would put to bed this foul matter of the Barynovs and their untenable claim on her. They might not fear a war with another Vjestik, but it would be self-annihilation to go up against the might of Wulfsgate.”

Rahn could refute none of the man’s points. There was nothing he could say that would not sound thin and weak. Nothing that wouldn’t plainly reveal his own confusing feelings. He reached again for the ale to bury his expression.

“Good.” Rustan slapped the arms of the chair and rocked to his feet. “You’ve confirmed for me there are no pending betrothals and that you are not a candidate, so I feel confident we can move forward with this. Your counsel is appreciated, Tindahl.”

Rahn managed to wave when Rustan opened the doors to leave.

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