Page 149 of The Duke and the Disciple

Aesylt was stunned at his choice of response. “Hraz waseveryone’sfavorite, wulf. He wasn’t like anyone else, was he? But he’s not here.” She closed her eyes to shut out the horrible recollection of Marek’s illusions. “You are. And maybe it’syouI need. Did that ever occur to you?”

“He’s not here, cub, because I tricked him into my taking his place in the Vuk od Varem. He wouldn’t let me volunteer as his replacement, so I went against his wishes and signed my name in blood with the kyschun while he was sleeping.”

“You think you’re to blame for...” Aesylt’s breaths trailed off. “Drazhan, no.No.Mortain sent the king to our village because he wantedyou.You can envision any other outcome of that night, and they all lead to the same damnation for all of us. And that night...” Aesylt choked up. “Thatnightbelongs to both of us, but you can’t know it because you won’t listen when I try to talk to you about it. And I need to, wulf, because if I don’t, it will never end. It will have nowhere else to go. I never feel more alone, ever, than I do when I think about what happened.”

Drazhan swiped the backs of his hands against his eyes and looked up. “I’m listening now, cub.”

The midnight bell stirred Aesylt.Blinking through her grogginess, she rolled over and saw Drazhan stretched out beside her atop the blankets, snoring away. He’d earned his exhaustion, just as she’d earned hers over the hours they’d talked and talked.

Aesylt slipped out of bed and stumbled a bit as she found her footing on the way to her writing desk, which the vedhmas had co-opted for their materials. A carafe of nettle water was calling her name. Her throat was parched from all the talking. Her body ached from everything that had come before.

She was still shaky, so she sat to pour herself a half mug. It felt so good going down, she poured another half and then sat back in her chair, watching snow paint the world beyond the window.

Aesylt didn’t know what to think anymore. She was tired of doing it. The unburdening of the Nok Mora had been a desperately needed catharsis and the mending of a crumbling bridge between her and her brother, but there was nothing left to say. To feel. To do. She’d dammed one river, only to watch the other flood the banks. She’d never believed herself a romantic, so it was embarrassing to look back on how easily she’d fallen into the trap of love conquering all battles, closing all wounds.

Some wounds weren’t meant to close.

One in particular never would.

She glanced back at her brother, passed out on the bed. All these years, she’d only thought she knew him. And now he knew her too. Everything she’d done that night belonged to him as well, and his pain and shame and guilt was hers to help absolve. It wasn’t the end but a beginning.

Yawning, she pushed her chair back when she saw the note sitting next to the carafe. It was folded far too neatly for Drazhan, or even Val, but it wasn’t the fold that froze her in place. It was the handwriting.For Aesylt.

Carefully, she opened it and read.

Aesylt,

By now you’re aware of my departure. I leave knowing you will survive this ordeal and that your life will go on. You are poised for so much greatness. I need not see the future to know it holds nothing but accomplishment for you.

You are not after hollow bromides though, so I will say what I must so you can move on. You asked me to tell you I didn’t love you, but in the end, it matters not how I feel at all, only what it has done to you. Forgive me, Squish, for being the coward you rightly called me. You deserve the world and more.

You were then, and always, the best of us.

With care,

Adrahn

Aesylt foldedthe letter and crushed it to her heart. Her head rolled back, sending her tears sliding down the sides of her cheeks.I hate you. I hate you, Adrahn. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

With a cry, she wrenched her arm back and hurled the letter into the fire. Stunned, she watched his words burn, every black singe stealing the past.

She fell to the floor and crawled over, bawling as she raked through the embers to retrieve what was left. All she could rescue was the upper corner, where her name had been written.

Aesylt.

“I hate you,” she whispered, rolling onto her side on the warm stones, the corner of his letter bunched in her fist.

Chapter28

The Chambers of His Heart

By the time Rahn stopped in Voyager’s Rest, both he and his horse were practically foaming at the mouth. He led her to a trough to rehydrate and then settled her into the roomiest stall available in the stables, with as much feed as he could fill the bin with. He brushed her down, enjoying the gentle mindlessness of the act while thinking of his next move.

He had options. Wulfsgate. The Reliquary. There was an entire kingdom waiting for him to explore. He could even return to Duncarrow, for he’d left on congenial terms with Queen Adamina. His potential landing points were limitless.

But there was only one her.

Rahn strolled through the sleepy village, counting the candles in the windows. When he ran out of those, he counted the shingles and eaves, and before he knew it, he was standing in front of the inn where he’d found Valerian.

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