Page 69 of The Duke and the Disciple

“Our world on Duncarrow was small. No markets.” He gestured around at the bustling commerce. “No fresh wonders to discover, just a weekly ship delivering the necessities. Theonlything I was given as a child was a quill, ink, and a modest stack of vellum I was told never to squander, for there might not be more tomorrow. AndthenI was told, we don’t speak of Ilynglass, so when you teach these children, Adrahn, though you are but a child yourself, you must pretend as if it never existed. As if the White Kingdom is all there is and ever was.”

None of this was a surprise to Aesylt, but him speaking of it so openly certainly was. She searched for the expected signs of tension or hesitance, but despite the acrimony in some of his words, he seemed at ease. “What did you teach them then?”

“More than I was allowed to. Less than I wanted.” He angled his mouth sideways in a mischievous grin. His eyes traveled toward the sky. “Imryll will tell you, I was not quite the rule follower everyone believed me to be. When I was a little older, I befriended some of the merchants who made deliveries and got my hands on a few books from the mainland.”

“You were the one who slipped Imryll the vellum, even though it would have gotten you thrown in the Sky Dungeon if anyone had found out.” That had been one of Aesylt’s favorite stories Imryll had shared from her Duncarrow years.

“She had so much curiosity. It had to go somewhere. The biggest mistake the crown made with her was trying to stifle her.” He nudged Aesylt with a soft smile. “You two are very much alike, actually.”

“You’re not the first to say so.” She sidestepped when a group of children went tearing by. Rich, gamey meats wafted on the winter breeze, and she was suddenly famished. “What other rules do you like to bend?”

“Only the ones which serve no good purpose,” he said with a whimsical look at a stall teeming with furs. He’d been acting differently all morning, and it wasn’t just his unusually upbeat temperament. When they’d entered the gates of the market, he’d made a strange detour to an unknown stall without her.Wait for me right here,he’d said and then hadn’t bothered explaining himself when he’d returned empty-handed. “Squish, I can see you eyeing those rabbit skewers like you haven’t eaten in days. Shall we put you out of your misery?”

“I’ll take two,” she responded, and he squeezed her arm with a laugh before jogging off to the stall. By the time she reached him, he was already handing over the coin.

“One for you, one for your lovely wife,” the man said.

Aesylt almost told the merchant she wasn’t his wife, but waited to see if Rahn would do it first. He didn’t, so she let it slide too.

“Thank you, sir,” she said distantly, watching Rahn, trying to figure him out. She was still studying him when he walked away, handing her the second skewer with a conspiratorial wink. “Didn’t want one?”

“I’m not the one who skipped breakfast,” he teased. “Though that does smell good...”

She yanked hers away with a smirk. “Should have bought one for yourself then.”

“Woeful regret is my lifelong companion.”

Aesylt abruptly stopped and slid a knot of steaming meat from the stick, then lifted it to Rahn’s mouth before she realized how careless she was being. Kezza and the others, they were watching, and while she didn’t believe they had orders to spy on them, how could she ever be sure?

But Rahn accepted her offer, his eyes fluttering back as he worked the bite in his mouth.

A smudge of food at the corner of his mouth had her leaning up to clear it with her thumb. She brushed it against the edge of his lips, glancing away when his gaze was too much. He licked the spot when she was done, and she had to fight the desire to stretch up onto her toes and kiss him.

But they were not in the celestial realm, and this was not research.

The market had been Pieter’s suggestion, after Rahn had told him their intention to get out for a few hours.Nowhere safer in the realm than Wulfsgate,he’d said. It was the most fortified town in the kingdom, with walls taller than any man could scale on his own. The gate guards searched everyone going in or out, allowing only those in who were confirmed residents or approved visitors of the Derehams.

“If you’re not going to eat that...”

Aesylt shoved half the meat from one stick in her mouth. His brows furrowed in amusement as she struggled to chew so much at once. She grinned, her cheeks puffed, and he threw his head back with a laugh that made her heart sing. He leaned in and tidied the edges of hermouth, still laughing.

She swallowed the half-chewed food with a hard gulp and handed him the second stick.

“I was only teasing. Eat up.” He grinned and started walking again, then paused when they passed a stall of furs. “These are much more colorful than the ones they sell in the Cross.”

“Vjestik like our furs like we like our hearts, Scholar. Rough and dark.” Her heart slowly returned to normal.

Rahn shook his head and pointed. “You asked me what interests me. Cultures. How different they are. Why these differences exist. I can read a thousand stories about a thousand villages, but there’s no replacement for experience.”

“So the Vjestik are specimens to you?”

“They’re fascinating to me, as all peoples are.” He lifted his arms under his cloak. “When you visit other villages, do you not note the differences?”

Aesylt discarded her empty stick on a nearby burn pile and started in on the second one. “Of course I do. But I’m not as well traveled as you. I’ve never even been beyond the Northerlands.”

“If you want a contest of who’s been more sheltered, I promise I’ll win.” He smiled. “And I’ve only seen the realm in passing, on my way to you. Not much time to assess it.”

On my way toyou.NotWitchwood Cross. Notyour family.I’m reading way too much into a single word.She sighed. “Is this something you want to do? Travel the realm?”

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