Page 99 of The Duke and the Disciple

“Rahn? Careful, Aesylt. Your desire is showing.” Nyssa huffed and slowly toddled around so she was facing Aesylt. “We were once friends. Iamtrying to help you, whether you believe me or not.”

“We were,” Aesylt agreed. “And then I arrived to find my once friend acting cold and strange toward me, for reasons she never bothered to explain.”

Nyssa dodged the accusation. “Or youcouldwear something colorful and flattering and then word would reach your brother of what a perfect match you are. He’ll have no choice but to allow it.”

“You don’t remember Drazhan very well if you think that would do anything but incite his anger.”

“Who could forget the way he trained like a gladiator for years so he could kill two kings and steal a bride?”

“You know that isnotwhat happened in Duncarrow, Nyssa.”

Nyssa held out her hands, indicating the women should help her down. She waddled toward Aesylt. “No, he failed to kill them, didn’t he? Fate intervened and finished it for him. But he walked away with King Torian’s prize. And for that, if nothing else, he should understand the heart makes its own choices.” She brushed a hand atop Aesylt’s shoulder, making her flinch. “He abandoned you and followed his own whims, and now he gets to decide what lifeyoulead. It’s not right, and you know it isn’t.”

Aesylt backed away. Nyssa was wrong about Drazhan. It was easy for outsiders to look back and see an heir abandoning his duties, but they hadn’t been there to witness the guilt that hung heavy in every haunted look he wore, every tortured step he took. He’d stalked the halls for months, aimless and wound with fury, until it had come to a boil.I love you, Aes, but I can’t lead our people with such a crime unanswered for. I’ve tried and tried and tried, and I cannot even see, even breathe, without imagining my hands about the coward king’s neck.

You’re leaving us?

Volemthe, sostrahad come his answer, and he’d crushed her against him with a hug that felt far more like good-bye than his words had.But the Cross will not recover until vengeance has been had.

The Cross is already recovering. We’ve been rebuilding for months! You’re their steward, Draz. Do you not want to be part of it?

One day, Aes, they will awaken from this renewed sense of purpose and recall how the usurper king took everything from them. I leave the Cross with you and Fezzan and Brita, and I know you can manage the task. When I return, it will be with an answer for the blood and ash. Only then can we move on.

Her vision wavered as her painful memories returned to the past. “You know nothing about what happened to us in the Cross. Not a damn thing.”

Nyssa visibly softened. “I know you were the true leader of Witchwood Cross for almost a decade. You wereeightwhen he left,Aesylt. A child! A child who had witnessed horrific, terrible things no one should ever have to see and then led her people because retribution was more important to her brother than the family he had left.” Her arrogance returned with a toss of her head. “OfcourseI’m sweet on your scholar. He’s devilishly handsome, sensitive, intelligent... and he looks atyouthe way every woman wants a man to look at her. And I will dance with him and laugh with him and flirt with him, and perhaps it will pique your jealousy, as it did in the garden, but it will not be Nyssa Dereham he’s wishing was in his arms. I’ll pretend it is...” She laughed. “And everyone there will wonder if my father is readying an announcement about me and the mysterious duke. But I’ll know. And if you’re honest with yourself, so will you.” A broad smile returned to her face. “You’ll wear the dress, because if you don’t, you’ll cause a scene when the man follows your every move, and I won’t have it. But we both know that when the two of you disappear into your little tower bedroom, it won’t matter.”

Aesylt closed her eyes, bracing for strength. She sighed and started toward the chair in front of the second mirror when Nyssa brightened suddenly.

“I almost forgot! The stewardess brought by a letter for you. The scout delivered it.”

“A letter?” Aesylt turned in confusion. “From whom? Drazhan?”

“Niklaus.” Nyssa pranced to a table and rifled through a stack of papers. “He signed it Nikky, but Imryll said Niklaus.” She shrugged.

“How would you know how he signs his letters unless you read it?” Aesylt demanded, but she was already thinking about what the letter might say—and why Drazhan had even allowed it to be sent with the scout. The only letters Drazhan had been approving were the private ones he sent to Imryll.

“All correspondence that comes into our halls is read.” She handed the letter over and waited with impatient blinks. “Well, aren’t you going to look at it?”

“You already know what it says.” Aesylt refolded the letter and squeezed it in her fist. “And you have nothing in response to what I said about how you’ve been treating me?”

Nyssa tugged at her curls. “Maybe I’ve just grown up, and you’re not used to how I am now. Or... Perhaps you’re imagining a problem that doesn’t exist.”

“If you say so.” Aesylt shoved the letter into her gown and made the submissive trek to the chair. “Let’s get this over with then.”

Rahn had intendedto spend the day in the Wulfsgate library while Aesylt was busy surviving her poking and prodding with Nyssa, but he’d just cracked open a tome about the effect of coastal patterns on mountain flooding when Rustan Dereham walked in and shut both doors behind him, then bolted them.

His heart plummeted, wondering if Pieterhadtold his father what he’d seen. But Rustan smiled civilly and nodded at a tray that Rahn hadn’t noticed earlier. Two mugs and a pitcher of ale sat atop it, along with a basket of bread and cheese.

“What’s all this?” Rahn closed the book but held onto it.

“I thought you and I might have a palaver,” Rustan said. He was watching Rahn as he lifted the tray and carried it to a cozy sitting area. He set it upon the table and poured both mugs. “Aye?”

Rahn tapped the book in his hands, sighed inward, and set it on the bench so he wouldn’t forget it later. Rustan handed him an ale before he’d even fully sat. “Thank you, my lord,” he said, mug raised.

“Don’t thank me just yet, Tindahl. I’m only plying you with ale and bread because I need something from you.”

Rahn’s brows perked. “Oh?”

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