Page 38 of The Duke and the Disciple

“You’re right. She’ll do it again unless we can keep her focused on something else. She’s desperate to clear her name and help Val, and who could blame her? I’d do the same thing.” Imryll met his eyes. Now that Drazhan had given his blessing, she needed her old friend’s full focus on Aesylt. The curricula matter was her problem. Hers alone. “I’ll find a charming way to communicate the temporary shift in our cohort’s focus to the Reliquary. Aesylt’s safety is more important than anything we’re doing here, and if it means you two have to work on astronomy for a while longer, then that’s what it means. They’ll still get their reports on time like always.”

Rahn nodded. “Thank you, Imryll.” He paused. “Ishouldhave been more alert to what she was planning. Looking back on the night... There were signs.”

Imryll scoffed. “Locking her away was never the answer. But Draz harbors an immense amount of guilt. In his self-loathing, he fails to see his sister became a woman in those years he was away, shaped by these experiences. In many ways, for the better. In some ways, for the worse. But she doesn’t need him in the way he believes she does, and...” She glanced out the long windows with a sigh. Was she really going to say it? Shame Rahn for caring about Aesylt, after all he’d done? She’d issued the warning once already, but that was before he and Aesylt had become research partners—before she’d seen the violent grind in his jaw when Aesylt’s injuries were numerated. The slow smoldering rage he could barely restrain. “Just be mindful, Rahn.”

“Mindful?”

Imryll shot him a knowing look. “You’re an honorable man. That’s not in question. But emotions are running hot. Hers. Yours. Mine. Everyone’s. There are few people in this world I trust as much as you. Drazhan sees you as an ally. A friend. That is no light matter. The man is more discerning than a king.” She straightened, for a moment seeing the very future she hoped to avoid. Whether it was divination or fear, she couldn’t know. Not yet. “Let’s not add more trouble to the boiling pot.”

“You take that end, Nik.”Aesylt made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Niklaus.”

Niklaus made a tight shake with his head and turned, his stony expression fading as his daze broke. “Sorry. Take what?”

Aesylt shifted the unwieldy roll of vellum in her arms to keep from dropping it. She spotted Rahn near the glass, setting up the lenses for observation. He’d said nothing on the long ride to the observatory, and his only words since arriving had been him running through the setup, clinical questions and answers. She’d made several searching attempts to snag his gaze, but he’d creatively diverted all of them. “The other end,” she said, returning her attention to the matter at hand. “So we can open this map and get to work?”

“Ah.” Niklaus cleared his throat and hooked his fingers under both sides of the roll. He walked backward until he could go no farther, and together they spread the sketch over the table.

“Grab those rocks. Just there.” Aesylt pointed at the basket. She stole another look at Rahn, but he was still occupied.

Niklaus gathered the stones and waited with a dumb look.

“To hold it down?” she asked, swallowing impatience. He knew what to do. They’d done it dozens of times at the keep, long before they’d had a half-built observatory to play with. “Where are you right now?”

Niklaus quickly placed the stones. He rubbed his eyes. “Tired is all.”

Aesylt stepped closer. She’d been working up the courage to ask about Val, about the situation with the Barynovs, but he’d made it clear the subject was uncomfortable for him. “I know what tired looks like on you. This is something more.”

He snapped his head up. “Not Val. Last I heard, no change.”

She nodded, scraping her teeth along her tongue, weighing whether to push harder. “Is this about the armistice? If you’re worried about Esker, he was never going to agree to Drazhan’s terms. I’ll eat my right arm if the man actually shows up to read his apology tomorrow in the village.”

“Your brother is too smart not to expect duplicity,” Niklaus replied with a slow, careful drawl. “It’s all but guaranteed, I’d say.”

Aesylt ran her finger along one of the smooth stones holding down the corners of their celestial map. “Then what is it?”

“Is what happened the other night not enough, Aes? How close that monster came to killing you?”

She searched for the right words. “Nien, Nikky. If it were only that, you’d be clinging to me like an overprotective oma. Just tell me so we can move on.”

Niklaus rolled his head with a huff. “I guess I, uh, wanted to tell you something.”

Aesylt waited.

“I’ve been thinking more and more about our research here, and my part in it. Particularly since the armistice.”

Aesylt had been expecting it after hearing Fez and her brother whispering in the halls. “It’s not your fault your family is breaking tradition to ally with the Barynovs. It can’t be helped.”

Niklaus twisted his mouth. Frowned. “Nien. That’s not it. And folks can stop wagging their cursed tongues because we’re... We’renotaligning with anyone. My father sent word from under the mountain confirming our neutrality. The kyschun can’t afford to be seen choosing sides. I don’t know... Doesn’t matter. It’s not that.”

Aesylt’s hand moved to her neck, a semi-conscious gesture she’d been making in the days since Marek had nearly strangled the life from her. In her quiet moments, she’d stood before her mirror, pondering that night, replaying every grueling moment. The bruises were gone, the dents of Marek’s thick thumbs long smoothed, yet the flesh remembered. But fear was an ancestor of death. She had not begged for her life that night, nor the eve of the Nok Mora, and she never would. “What then?”

Niklaus followed her gestures with a dark expression. “I’m staying with the cohort. I’ve decided... at least until I have to join the rest of the kyschun under the mountain. And... I’ve thought about what you told me the other night, on the way to... you know, about the curricula. About the participatory nature of it.” He cleared his throat, his face blooming with red.

“Tak?” Aesylt’s eyes narrowed. “And?”

He brushed his hands down his shirt in nervy passes. “We’ve known each other our whole lives, Aes. We’re practically family. We trust each other. We’ve seen each other... in vulnerable states.”

Aesylt snickered. “You mean naked?”

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