Page 34 of Fate

She didn’t regret it. Regret him. She didn’t.

He was pacing.

She was uncertain if that was better or worse that sitting and glaring and brooding, but she would someday. For this morning,she straightened her skirt and her hair and hoped she did not look as dishevelled as she felt.

She did not ask him to compliment her. Did not ask him if she’d do. She’d heard quite enough of her failings the night before, and she was not keen to revisit them now.

But she would. When they found his parents and they saw she was a stranger to them and not... not what they would have chosen.

She took a deep breath and released it slowly. Did it again when Lucian paused in his stride, some of his own tension easing out of him the calmer she became for him.

And because she had needs of her own, she closed the distance between them and took his hand in hers, squeezing it tightly. He did not pull away, did not even glare—and if that meant he was coming to accept that such gestures would be frequent between them, she was glad of it. “It’s going to be all right,” she promised him. And that one settled better than her others had. True and real and something she believed with the whole of her being.

His mouth curved downward, and while he did not tug his hand free, he did not hold it back. “We might have differing opinions on what constitutesall right.”

She didn’t flinch. They probably did. She would be content with a small life. Something simple. Where work was hard, but their joy was easy.

He... he’d known a different life. She could not be cross with him if all he’d known was suddenly in jeopardy. Because of her.

It was a nagging, niggling thought. One that had no business being there. This wasn’t a matter of blame and fault, they weredestined.

She tilted her chin just a little. “Mine means that we’ll be together. No matter what. That even if we never spend anothernight in that bed, I’ll be happy to find another one. With you in it. To kiss you all over.”

His hand tightened around hers, and his breath caught just a little. “We could make use of it now,” he reminded her, his head ducking just enough that he could whisper the words into her ear. “Forget about the rest of it. I believe there were a few places that missed your attentions earlier.”

The bond flared. Encouraged.

Reminded her of just what she’d felt andhowshe had felt, and she was ridiculous to want to leave this room, leave his arms...

She swallowed.

Closed her eyes.

Took a careful step to the side lest his lips follow where his words had been, and she would have been lost. Would have agreed to anything at all if he continued to encourage her back toward the bed.

“We have forever for that,” she said instead, her voice feeling as if it came from terribly far away as she wrestled with her own rapid heartbeat. “But this morning, we need to make some introductions.”

One night spent away was one thing. Two would have her parents worried, and they did not deserve that. She tightened her grip on his hand as he sighed. “Come on. I will be brave for the both of us.”

His steps were reluctant as she made for the door, but he did follow. “You can only say that because you do not know them.” At least the grumble was loud enough she understood him, even if she could not imagine speaking of her parents in such a manner.

“They will say things about my birth,” she reiterated from their earlier argument. “They will fault me and our bond, andyou might be disinherited.” She said it as calmly as she could, even though she knew of no statute that could permit such a law.

But that was his job, wasn’t it? Lucian’s father. She wanted to believe that a lawmancer was most interested in justice and the good of all, but she supposed, in the strictest sense, he might use it for his own personal whims.

Her stomach gave an uncomfortable twist, but she smiled anyway. “Did I leave anything out?”

His mouth tightened, and he seemed to think she was mocking him in some way. Which she wasn’t. Truly.

But before she could reassure him, he brushed past her and made a quick plummet down the tower’s centre. Not to the ground floor, but very near it. Instead of a balcony, there were thick stone steps leading to the closed door. He did not call up to her, but she could make out the quirk of his brow and he waited.

While she had to fiddle with skirts and worry that they’d already made a mess of things, and perhaps she should have indulged his offer of an interlude in the bed before they faced... this.

It might not have been so frightening if she thought he would defend her. But their agreement was that she would not have to hear those complaints from him, not that he would ensure they were not spoken at all.

It was an odd sort of descent. It lacked the thrill and twist of freedom that came from proper flight. Instead, it was an awkward movement of wings and fabric that left her flustered and uncertain when finally her feet met stone.

Her only comfort was the hand he extended, helping her balance as she settled. “You get used to it,” he assured grimly. “Or maybe you won’t. Since we’ll be banished soon enough.”

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