Page 39 of The Duke and the Disciple

“Whatever word you want to use.” The awkward discourse seemed to cause him physical pain. “I’d like to think we were both, uh, unaffected by this, because of our closeness. And it got me thinking that if there were any two people who could conduct the, uh, experiments in a participatory sense and, uh,notbe affected by the complexity of the, uh, intimacy, it would be... us.”

Aesylt’s breath caught. Her gaze traveled again toward Rahn as she tried to find words. His suggestion made some sense, but there was a baffling tightness in her chest, the kind that accompanied loss. “Well?—”

“You shouldn’t have to...dothis with the scholar, Aes. Not when you have me.”

She swallowed a dry thatch in her throat, but it only made the feeling worse. Across the room, Rahn bent low, angling his face up against the telescope he’d built with his own hands. His head shook in frustration as he adjusted the many knobs, and he dug into his pocket, exasperated, for his spectacles. She should be helping him, but she’d made comfort impossible between them, first with her unfathomable proposition and then with the trouble she’d caused him after. He wasn’t just cross with her; he was exhaustedofher. Probably wishing he’d never asked her to be his disciple that night he’d come to Fanghelm, full of ideas. She was nothing to him anymore but a symbol of regret.

“Aes?”

She blinked away a soft burn in her eyes and looked at Niklaus. “I’ll let the scholar know, when we have a moment to discuss.”

The palpable relief on Niklaus’s face was almost humorous. “I was a little worried you might think... but good. Good.” He rolled his lips in and out. “I have to get back to the village. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Aesylt nodded, her mind a cyclone of clouded emotion as she watched him leave.

Rahn hadn’t intendedto spend the day with so much unaddressed awkwardness between them, but the longer he and Aesylt went without addressing what had happened, the harder it was to make space for it.

She was a consummate professional, documenting everything he read back to her as he examined the skies. When it was her turn, she recited her observations the way he’d taught her. Her misery lived only in her hooded eyes.

When midnight fell and the guards appeared, Rahn reflected on the day as a successful one.

For the research, anyway.

They traveled in the middle of a procession of Drazhan’s men. Rahn drove the cart with Aesylt slumped at his side, pretending to sleep. It would be the perfect time to assure her he wasn’t upset with her, only himself—to return the small, sly smile to her face he’d realized was as much of a comfort as his morning needle tea or the smooth evening fog rolling down from the craggy crests of Icebolt.

Aesylt stirred, her furs sliding atop the wood as she rolled her head his way. “I just wanted you to know, Scholar, you don’t have worry about the upcoming curricula. Nik is staying on, long enough...” She tilted her head into her hood and yawned. “Long enough for he and I to satisfy the requirements for practical study within the cohort.”

Rahn’s hands tensed on the reins. Tightness pinched his sides, forcing him to straighten to draw breath. “You and Niklaus want to handle the curricula yourselves? The two of you? As in...”

Aesylt gave a sleepy nod. “We’re comfortable with each other, and it will be nothing. A simple matter.” She pulled her hood tighter and turned away in her seat, curling her legs up. “So it’s no longer your problem, Scholar.”

His response died when a guard rode up beside him. “My lord, we’re diverting down the east pike path. May be nothing, but Barynov guards were spotted at the end of the road, and the steward has directed we treat every suspicion as a valid one.” The man’s eyes traveled toward Aesylt, slumped on the bench. “It will be a rough ride. I would fasten the stewardess’s restraints.”

Rahn nodded absently, reaching sideways to feel for the unbuckled leather. He watched the guard join the other men, and he grew cold, then hot as he secured Aesylt’s straps and commanded the mules toward their new course.

Chapter9

Trouble Yourself No Longer

Aesylt hesitated in the doorway of her brother’s office. It was the same room it had always been, since the days of their father, their grandfather... For nearly a decade, she’d sat in the tall thorny chair of her Wynter ancestors herself, wondering if Drazhan was ever coming back or if fate had consigned her to take his place.

Nothing had changed. Nothing except her.

From the furrowing pass of her brother’s stony gaze as she made her way inside, he knew it too.

“You wanted to see me?” She took another step but held close to the door. Outside, four guards waited to escort her back to her apartments—her new, “upgraded” prison. Her own living quarters were bigger than the scholar’s, and they wanted her to be comfortable in her confinement, seeing as it wasn’t ending anytime soon. So said Imryll, who had only been grudgingly parroting Drazhan’s despotic orders, for no one’s benefit.

“Come in, cub.” Drazhan was seated. He rarely sat at his desk. Even in meetings he was prone to pace, or hover in a corner and scowl.

“You’re making me nervous, wulf.” Aesylt fingered her mother’s sapphire necklace resting against her heart. Val had the matching one... At least, he had when he’d entered the forest. It could be anywhere. It might even have been the symbol his family had needed to condemn her.

“Close the door.”

When she planted herself in prideful indignation—sometimes it felt like it was all she had left of herself—he waved a hand, and a guard did it instead.

“Aes, sit. Please.”

It was the please that did it. Aesylt flopped onto the chair with a hotheaded slump that instantly made her feel idiotic. Correcting it would have been worse, so she shrugged and waited.

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