Page 123 of The Duke and the Disciple

“Why not begin with some cider? Aesylt, you do recall that all cider we consume here at the keep is in fact made by the Dereham men themselves?” Rustan poured six mugs and slid them to each of those in attendance.

“I recall,” she said tersely, glaring daggers at her brother. She chanced a brief look at Imryll, but her obvious distress only inflamed Aesylt more.

“Adrahn, good to see you,” Drazhan said. “Will you both sit?”

“Not sure that I will,” Aesylt said, right as Rahn took his seat. She shouldn’t be surprised he would cow to Drazhan’s intimidation. He was a rule man through and through. “Not until you tell me what’s upset Imryll.”

She had another reason for not wanting to sit. The soreness of her evening antics had caught up to her when she rose that morning, achy and nauseated.

“Aesylt, please,” Imryll said, sounding far more passive and defeated than Aesylt was accustomed to. Whatever had happened had done more than upset Imryll. It had broken her spirit. “You need to hear this. And prepare yourself. It will hurt, perhaps more than it should.”

Rustan whistled. “The bad news first then?”

“What bad news?” Rahn asked. “Has someone been hurt? Have things in the Cross escalated?”

“Nothing in the Cross is any better or worse than you left it,” Drazhan said, his eyes on Aesylt. “Marek remains a craven fugitive. We are still divided, and war seems to be the only weapon we have left to break it.” He blinked hard and snapped his gaze at Pieter. “I think the young Lord Dereham should be the one to explain his betrayal.”

“Betrayal?” Aesylt shifted her attention between her brother and Pieter. “What betrayal?”What betrayal could be important enough to drag my brother away from the most important days of his stewardship?

He couldn’t have told Drazhan about Revelry, or Drazhan would be far from calm.

“It’s our hope you’ll hear what Pieter has to say with an open mind,” Rustan said with a strained smile. “Betrayal requires ill intent, and Pieter has, for all his faults, always been well intentioned in his choices.”

Pieter folded his hands with a hard look at the pitcher. “I suppose the only way to begin is to answer a question posed to me on the day you all arrived.” He looked up and into the distance. “I told you about my time in the Seven Sisters, Aesylt. But what I didn’t tell you is it put me on the path to meet a man named Fair Douglass. Fair is?—”

“The archminister of the Reliquary,” Aesylt whispered. Imryll’s pulse pounded in her anticipation.

“He is now,” Pieter said slowly. “But at the time, the men who conceived of the Reliquary, a place of faith and learning in the name of our Rhiagain kings, had only an old abbey to conduct their work from. The great towers of Riverchapel, most of which are, even now, still in construction, did not exist. He was searching for like-minded men to join him in his vision, and he invited me to become one of his ministers.” His hands unfolded and rejoined. “I accepted, followed him to Riverchapel... and that’s the truth of where I’ve been for two of these past eight years.”

“Now explain to Aesylt why you kept this from us,” Imryll spat. She reminded Aesylt of the woman she’d been when she had come to the Cross to marry Drazhan.

But Aesylt knew what he was about to say. And if he told thefulltruth, then both Drazhan and Imryll would know her and Rahn’s secret, which could never, ever happen. “So let me see if I can fill in the details for you, Pieter,” she said, sneering as she paced her side of the table. “Your father... what, wrote to you, to tell you we were coming? You told Douglass, or maybe someone else who was equally bent on edging us out, and he ordered you to come spy on us?”

Pieter offered a penitent shrug. “Yes... and no, Aesylt. You’re right about Douglass. He never wanted you involved, but he knew if he just removed you without cause, there would be repercussions. Truth is, I think he’s nervous there are two Duncarrow residents living in your village, because he can’t know for sure what their relationship is with the current crown.” His eyes closed through a long sigh. “I did tell him about all your work with... astronomy.” He locked her gaze, the secret passing between them in silence. “Ididsend along your notes, just as I told you I had. But... He wrote yesterday to inform me that Witchwood Cross may no longer take part in any of the Reliquary’s research, at least not in the current conditions.”

Aesylt’s heart pulsed so hard, she finally had no choice but to sit. She pulled the chair out and perched on the side of the wooden seat. “Ourresearch.Ourvision.”

“And you wonder why I left Duncarrow,” Imryll retorted with a sniff. “The same kind of men who run that rock run the Reliquary. There is no mystery in those men’s hearts. They’re all the same.”

“Did you know, my lord?” Aesylt turned her ire on Rustan.

“No, cub,” Rustan replied, no longer pushing his joviality on the table. “We were disgruntledly aware of his association with Douglass, but not that he’d joined their efforts.”

“Whythough?” Rahn asked, scooting to the edge of his seat as he leaned in. “Whatcausedo they have to make such a decision?”

Pieter lifted his shoulders in another shrug. “He didn’t see fit to tell me.”

Aesylt watched him lie and read the truth in it. Everything Pieter knew, the Reliquary knew. Using names of other cohort members on their reports had only worked when no one else knew they were the ones actually submitting. Whether intentional or inadvertent, Pieter’s own version of events could not possibly match the one she and Rahn had sold in their reports.

It meant they’d known almost from the very beginning of their submissions from Wulfsgate, and yet had let them continue on and on, like fools.

“Doesn’t matter the cause.” Imryll wiped her eyes. “What’s done is done. It was always going to end this way, once they decided themselves the arbiter of right and wrong.”

“Gods,” Rahn whispered and flopped back in his chair.

Aesylt had been waiting for this day, but it was no less crushing to watch, tofeel,her passion slipping from her fingers. There’d be no more research. No more joy of discovery alongside others who were just as curious about the ways of their world. No more building something that everyone could benefit from.

She buried her face in her hands.

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