Page 69 of Fate

She ran her finger over one of the lists again, feeling strangely fond of them. Protective. Lucian’s future was tied to those pages, and therefore her own.

“If bypounceyou mean was she in the kitchen offering food and assistance, then yes.” He made another notation at the bottom of a sheet. “She is very kind.”

Firen beamed at him. “She is.” Then came the concern, leeching some of her satisfaction. “Is it hard for you? To be here with mine instead of with yours?”

Lucian turned his head, and she expected the furrowed brow, the tight set of his mouth. “Why should it?”

“Sorry,” Firen said with a sigh. “That’s not... I shouldn’t have said it like that.” She reached for his hand and gripped it, because the last thing she wanted was a quarrel. It was not a competition between mothers. It was not about who had the better parents, the more welcoming home. “I feel guilty, I suppose. Forcing you to be here.”

Lucian huffed out a breath, then turned in his chair so he could face her fully. Could reach out to ensure she was looking at him. “Do I appear to be under duress? Must we dwell on misgivings? It is done. I have accepted this. I am attempting to build a future.” He grimaced, and his hand fell away. “One that resembles what I had hoped for as much as possible.”

Firen glanced away from him, her heart beating a little too quickly. She wasn’t afraid of him, but she wanted to get this right. Wanted to be a support to him rather than a hindrance. Except what came out was girlish and fretful. Utterly lacking in anything helpful.

“Why is it easier to talk to Mama than it is to me?”

He glanced at her, his brows raised. “What?”

She wanted to retract it as soon as the thought had slipped from her lips, but she couldn’t. She could stammer out another apology, but it would still lie there, weighing on the both of them.

“It’s just... it seems easier, with her. Is it like she says? That she’s a planner? Knows how to make the best lists and make big things seem manageable?” She felt all the sillier as soon as she put it that way.

He was going to get up. Was going to pace about the kitchen and ask her how this could possibly be of any importance at all when he was trying to determine the rest of hislife.

Instead, he turned and used his foot to push at her stool.

Then his hands were at her waist, and he was pulling her onto his lap. The movement was so quick that she startled by it, her hands coming to his shoulders as she fought to keep her balance—not that it was needed. His hands were strong at her waist, then firmer still as he used one to cup her cheek and hold her head in position.

So he could kiss her once.

Then pull back with a look of utter exasperation.

“It is easier,” Lucian agreed. “Because when I am with you, I am reminded of all the ways I am failing you. That you must sleep in a blacksmith loft because I cannot even provide a family to support us during this transition. Because my profession was tied so intimately with a bond that would never happen. And it shames me. Infuriates me. So yes, I feel it difficult to talk of it with you, because it should not have tobeso difficult.”

“Lucian,” she murmured, and her throat was too tight and the bond was too warm. Made her want to hold him to her, made her want to kiss him all over because that was theirs. What they knew how to dowell.

“Do not look at me that way,” Lucian urged, and his hands went back to her waist and he was going to move her off of him, and she did not want that. Not in the least. “I will not kiss you in your mother’s kitchen,” he added lowly when her hands went about his neck so she could hold herself steady. “I am going to tuck these papers away, and dress properly, and then I am going to make my rounds in the Hall.”

His hand went to the back of her neck and she shivered as his thumb smoothed against the delicate skin he found there. “Or did you imagine you had bartered for a full week of my sole attention?”

She made a guilty sort of hum because, in truth, she had. But she could share. When it was this important. When he was so troubled.

“I won’t ask if it would help if I came with you.”

And she wouldn’t let it sting, either. That it would be an impediment when she was used to being...

Well,liked.

Even if they were just... common folk. The ones she’d known since birth, that worked and tended to their stalls and made no trouble for anybody. That might have gossiped a bit too much. That were a bit too harsh in some ways, but were kindly underneath the rest of it.

“I thank you,” Lucian answered, petting her hair, and she found it soothed her in ways she had never imagined. “I dislike disappointing you. Despite what you may think.”

Her throat tightened, and she took a breath that was so full of him it almost made her dizzy.

He would not kiss her.

Which meant she ought not to test matters by seeing if she could get him to respond toherkisses.A fun sort of game for another place. Somewhere private, where she would not have to endure the mortification of her mother or father walking in on the two of them in a compromising position.

Did sitting on his lap count?

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