Page 83 of Fate

“And what of you?” Vandran asked. “Will you be joining our ranks in the law? You would have to begin at the start. No skipping years just because of your mate.”

It pleased her that his offer was sincere, and for one fleeting moment, she actually wondered if she might accept him. To work and learn beside her mate. To study the laws for herself so she knew what protections existed besides what she was simply told through rumour and histories.

“I like to work with my hands,” Firen answered with an apologetic tone. She held them out and wiggled her fingers, hoping he would not be insulted by her preference.

“A pity,” Vandran added with a sigh. “My daughters were much the same. “Too many years, they said. Favoured their mother’s side. I’ll not protest the fine cheeses that come through my doors. Only that I could not convince at least one of them this was a worthwhile pursuit.”

Firen reached for the pot and refilled their cups. “They must have trusted you to protect their interests.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I suppose that’s true. But they expect me to live forever. And as much as I’d like to, I don’t think that will be possible.”

He grew more sombre and pulled his cup back toward him. “My seat will be empty sooner than I would hope. And I’d like to ensure there is one to fill it that cares about theregularpeople, as you put it.” He looked at Lucian, his expression as serious as she’d yet seen it. “Will that be you?”

She would not make light of it. Not when it was of such importance to the both of them. Wouldn’t tease and nudge at his shoulder and ask him herself.

But she did shift. Did turn her head so she could look at him properly, because...

Had that not been part of her concern, as well? That she would be the exception. That he was gracious to her family simply because they were hers, and not because he knew to be kind to all peoples.

Not just the ones that filled coffers. That could buy influence and ancestral homes in equal turn.

He sat very straight and looked Vandran in the eye, although there was something in the bond that said he was truly speaking to her. “It will.”

That was all. No eloquent speeches denouncing his father and his prejudice. No prolonged promises.

Just one.

And she was absurdly proud of him for it, and it took everything in her not to throw her arms about his neck and hug him to her, as she whispered out her thanks that he was the man she’d hoped he’d be after all.

“Excellent,” Vandran declared, and he did not seem to mind when Firen beamed at her mate and took his hand and gripped it for just a moment, before settling back into her cup. Something had gone right. For once.

She’d not bungled everything. Lucian hadn’t either.

Vandran stood, moving toward one cabinet on the far wall. There were shelves laden with books—just as there were everywhere. But there were drawers at hip height, and he opened one, then another, evidently looking for something. “Here we are,” he declared, after rummaging through a stack of papers. He could use some help with his organisation. Or perhaps he was one that found order in the mess. Where everything had a place, even if it made no sense to anybody else.

Da would have been like that. If Mama didn’t come through often and remind him that his children also had to use the workroom, and wouldn’t it be nice if they knew where to find the tools and supplies?

The sheet was folded and worn about the edges, marked on both sides. A diagram of some sort? “I might be lacking in some areas,” Lucian added dryly, “but not so much that I require a map of the facilities.”

“No,” Vandran agreed. “But your mate is. And this will be her home now, too.”

He handed the paper to Firen, and it unfolded into a much larger sheet than she might have imagined.

Everything was labelled. The rooms—crossed out and reordered, presumably when new people claimed old offices. “I cannot promise they are all accurate any longer. I’m afraid I stopped updating it a long while ago. But it should help, all the same.”

“Thank you,” Firen breathed, finding her eyes welling in the most absurd fashion. “Truly. I...” She swallowed, and she tried her best to refold the map as cleanly as possible. “I hope you are wrong. About your health. I hope your daughters are right and you will live for a very long time. You are most kind.”

He waved off her words, but he smiled at her softly. “You’ll be all right,” he promised. “You’ll need to see the registrar. Perhaps update where your allowance is being sent.” That was added with a sharper look in Lucian’s direction. “You cannot afford to pander to your father any longer. I want a man of strong conviction. I will hold you to your promises.”

Lucian bowed his head and touched his hand to his chest. “Of course.”

Firen clutched her map in her hands and followed Lucian as he rose. “One more paper,” Vandran insisted, handing that one to Lucian. “Your schedule. It might seem rigorous, in the beginning,” he offered as a warning to Firen rather than to his new apprentice. “Only have to test him on a few things first.”

Firen stood on tiptoe, trying to peer at the schedule and just how offensive it might seem to a newly mated pair. There was quite a lot written on it, but some of the times were slanted so far that she could not make out their meaning with only a glance.

“I’m grateful,” she said instead. “And I’ll remind myself of that when I miss him.”

Lucian was quiet beside her as they left. Firen did not mind. She had her new map to study. It was easier to read, as it had obviously been filled in when Vandran’s hands were steady and properly able to hold the pen. She whispered the name of the offices as they passed. And if they were out of date, as Vandran had suggested, Lucian did not correct her.

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