Page 18 of The Duke and the Disciple

Tasmin pulled her dark-cherry waves over one shoulder. “Many women get stuck with a man who fulfills none of their needs. Very few can manage to please you both insideandoutside the bedroom.”

“And you would know this how?” Tasmin had once inferred that Duncarrow was an island of lechers, but she had not implicated herself in the accusation.

Tasmin smirked instead of answering. “You could do worse, Aesylt. He’s brash and a bit... uncouth, but he’s gorgeous and has only ever had eyes for you.”

“It’s not as if Witchwood Cross is teeming with options.” Aesylt leaned back in her chair with an inaudible sigh. She let her eyes slowly close, taking in the soft warmth of the crackling fire, which was still no match for the fire raging within her. Her heart hadn’t settled at all, not in hours. “Val isn’t the first person I cared about who went into the forest, but he’s the only one I’ve been tempted to follow.”

“Wouldn’t it break the alliance with the wulves? If he had help?”

“I didn’t say I was going to.” Aesylt lolled her head to the side, searching for a subject change. “Did Scholar Tindahl tell you about the curricula change for our cohort?”

“Haven’t had the chance,” Rahn said from the doorway. Both women startled at the unexpected intrusion.

“Well, don’t hold out on me, Rahn,” Tasmin said with a teasing grin.

Aesylt clenched, feeling foolish for her jealousy of a relationship that had nothing to do with her. She reached for the quilt on the back of her chair and pulled it over her, sad and ashamed and a slew of other emotions she was too out of sorts to put name to.

“Another time,” he said pleasantly. His focused steps echoed as he approached. “I’d hoped to speak with Aesylt, actually. Alone, if you don’t mind.”

Tasmin’s brow creased in surprise. “Does Drazhan know you want to be alonewith his sostra?”

“If you’re suggesting my intentions are untoward...”

“Not at all.” Tasmin leaped from her chair, pointing a quick wink at Aesylt before sauntering toward Rahn. She squeezed his arm as she passed.

He stood stock-still until the library doors whooshed closed and then settled into the chair Tasmin had vacated. “How are you holding up?”

Aesylt tugged the quilt tight around her neck and shrugged. “Perfectly recovered.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

She could feel his eyes fixed on her, but her nerves kept her own gaze pointed at the fire.

“You were Val’s final witness.”

She nodded.

“I can’t imagine the convolution of emotions you’re experiencing after that.” He tapped the arms of his chair. “I may be an outsider and don’t fully understand the Season of the Wulf, but I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

Aesylt smiled to herself. “You’ve certainly endured a fair dose of my whining without complaint.”

“No reason to complain about something I chose to do.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” She twisted in the discomfort of her lies. She wasn’t remotely fine. Thinking... evenbreathingwas a chore. The scholar’s presence made both of those things inexplicably more challenging, like she had to be conscious of what every part of her was doing, the precise path of each inhale and exhale. “In fact, I may head on to bed now.”

Rahn’s presence was heavy beside her. “You must be exhausted.”

“Not especially.”

He hesitated a moment before saying, “Have you an appetite for adventure then?”

The suggestion was so unexpected, it made her laugh. “Does said adventure involve trees?”

“Gods, let’s hope not.” His mouth parted in shocked disgust, and they both laughed. “It’s just I... I had a cart prepared to journey up to the observatory to see the progress. The road up the mountain has been cleared, and the skies are fairly open—a good night to go up and test out the telescope. I’d hate to waste it.”

Aesylt turned toward him. She’d only been up to the spot once, when construction had broken ground. Rahn usually went alone—or with Tasmin. “Are you asking because you feel bad for me? Do I look pitiful?”

Rahn pursed his mouth in amusement. “There’s nothing pitiful about you, Aesylt. Not a single thing.”

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