Page 153 of The Duke and the Disciple

Aesylt nodded and returned her gaze to the fire. “What will you do now?”

Imryll was hoping she’d ask. “We still have our academy in the village. Books of All Things has had an explosion in interest since the civil war ended, and in speaking with Lord Dereham, he’s offered to become one of our principal patrons. He’s also going to encourage the families of Wulfsgate to send their children to us to board and teach, like the universities of Oldcastle, except only a day’s ride from home instead of a fortnight. Drazhan is already working to find us a suitable location for the boarding, and we’ll need to expand our staff, of course, if we’re to become more than a day school.”

“Imryll that’s... That’s incredible,” Aesylt said, smiling for the first time. “It may not seem like it now, but you’ll make more of a difference here locally than anything we were doing for the compendium. You’ll change lives for the better. So many lives.”

“Wewill, because I need your help. I can’t do this alone.”

“Drazhan will have no shortage of people for you lining up to be a part of this.”

“And I will review everyone who applies,” Imryll said slowly. “But I need someone with experience to partner with me.”

Aesylt nodded to herself. She picked at the blanket covering her knees with a small sigh. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course you can. We have time. Gods know none of this can happen tomorrow.”

Aesylt’s lips curled. “You know you slip into Duncarrow sometimes. I’ve noticed it when you’re excited about something.”

“What?”

“‘Gods.’”

“Ah.” Imryll laughed. She’d never understood the gods of Ilynglass the way those who’d lived there had, but she’d been raised on the idea of them. The Ancestors felt more real but were also unreachable for a foreigner, no matter how warmly the Vjestik had embraced her. “Do you think you might join us for supper?”

“Not tonight.”

“Take your time.” Imryll rose from the chair. “It’s going to be icy tonight. They’re already closing down the mountain roads. Shops are shuttered. Drazhan said they may even close the taverns, if you can believe it.”

“Nien,” Aesylt said lightly. “It’s been... five, six years since things were bad enough to close thetaverns. Not even the Ancestors dare come between a man and his vices.”

“Well, I don’t need to tell a northerner it’s best to stay indoors this evening.”

“Before I forget, will you ask Niklaus to come see me before his trials? I don’t want to blink and suddenly he’s gone.”

Imryll smiled. “I’d be happy to. Any message for Valerian?”

“Not yet. I owe him an apology, but he deserves the best of me when I give it.”

“He knew what you were offering.”

“It was wrong of me to offer at all. It would have been like... like Rahn dangling marriage in front of me when his heart wasn’t in it. I would have lapped at that like a starving dog... Doesn’t matter. Intention doesn’t soften hurt.” Aesylt’s smile this time was forced. “You can tell my brother I’m fine. Iwillbe fine.”

“You will,” Imryll affirmed, feeling, for the first time in days, that the words had weight. “You are so loved, Aesylt. I know you know this is true, but it is my dearest hope youfeelit is true, because I know how quietly hears a broken heart and how even softer listens a broken spirit.”

Undiluted impulse putRahn back on the treacherous road to Witchwood Cross in the dead of night, amid a powerful ice storm, headed toward his dreams instead of away from them.

He was alone on the Compass Road, his only companion the shrill peppering of ice striking the earth, the blinding fog, and the occasional abandoned wagon in a ditch. His heart was a racing, fitful mess he could not keep time with. Every push he made for speed, his horse resisted, balking and thrashing her head in protest.

Twice he stopped to calm and feed her from the apple bag he’d purchased from the stablemaster—and to allow his logical mind a moment of prominence. The road had been slick when he’d left Voyager’s Rest, but there were entire patches of ice forming and spreading, their edges beginning to touch. There was no rational reason not to turn around and wait until morning. It would be safer. Fanghelm would be awake and ready for him. There was no rush. No reasonable person would push on.

Rahn gave the horse a soft kiss on the nose, thanked her for all he was about to ask of her, and swung back onto the saddle before that rational side of him pulled him astray.

For all the chaos of his heart, his mind was at rest. There were no difficult memories to falter him nor the soothing but damning voices of those he’d lost. Aesylt was there—she was everywhere, always—but her ubiquitous presence no longer set his nerves on edge and his conscience spinning. She was an essential part of him, guiding him through the freezing tempest toward either his end or his beginning. She was the fire burning through his veins, scorching the inexorable loneliness of his past. The symphonic conductor of his fearless future.

Aesylt had no reason to forgive his weakness, and he, no argument in his defense that came close to redeeming how he’d hurt her. But where he’d failed her with reason, he would offer vulnerability. All those times she’d mused he was the first person to really see her, and he’d failed to see the mutuality—the mirror she held, not with shame but love. Respect.

I see in you what lives in me.

There were a thousand reasons not to keep riding in the dead of night for a village where he wasn’t welcome, in the middle of the worst storm he’d ever seen.

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