Page 166 of Heat of the Everflame

“She must think highly of you, to have given you such access,” he said smoothly as we walked. “I take it your lunch went well?”

“I’m not laying at the base of a canyon or digesting in a gryvern’s belly. I’ll call that a success.”

In truth, I wasn’t sure if it had gone well or not. I felt a little like I’d pledged my soul to something I hadn’t fully understood.

I was grateful for his silence the rest of the way. My mind was still spinning from what I’d seen and trying to piece together what significance, if any, it had. Something about what I’d read was gnawing at me, but I couldn’t quite place what it was.

When we reached the corridor leading to my suite, Luther returned to the forefront of my mind. I should have come back earlier—now I would have to rush our conversation.

I gave Symond an awkward wave. “I can find my way back from here.”

“I should hope so,” he drawled. “I need to pick up two of my own. They’ve been here all afternoon.”

“Here? Why were two Centenaries in our private wing?”

His lips twitched with a secretive smirk. “They were requested by one of your guests.”

My frown slowly deepened as Symond accompanied me the entire way down the hall. When we reached the end, he gave me his back, facing Luther’s door and knocking loudly.

Muffled voices came from the other side.

Femininevoices.

The door swung open, and two pretty Centenaries appeared.

“Come, ladies,” Symond ordered. “You’ve had enough fun for today.”

“Hope you feel better now, Princey,” one called out loudly, waving. “Let us know if you want us to come back later tonight.”

“It was a realpleasure,” the other said, drawing out the final word with a seductive purr.

They walked out arm in arm, whispering in each other’s ears.

“Did you see that scar? It’shuge.”

“That wasn’t the only thing that was huge.”

They collapsed in a fit of laughter as they walked away.

Symond pulled the door closed, but not before I caught a glimpse of Luther—laying naked in bed among rumpled sheets, his back to the door and his clothes scattered along the floor.

“Oh, dear,” Symond said. “I forgot—he requested that you not be told. Be a sweetheart and pretend you didn’t see that.”

I could hardly think over the sound of blood rushing in my ears. Surely that wasn’t what it seemed. Luther cared for me, he would never...

Or would he? He’d been with Iléana, and he never cared for her. Maybe that’s how he preferred it—no strings, no emotions. Maybe that’s why he’d been avoiding my touch, why he’d been afraid I wouldn’t forgive him.

In the moment we had in the inn, he’d said I deservedmore. More that he couldn’t give me...

Oh,gods.

“Diem?” Symond tipped a finger under my chin, snapping me back to the present. “You should get ready. Her Majesty doesn’t tolerate lateness.”

I nodded numbly and turned to my room.

“Try not to fret,” he called out from behind me. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about at all.”

I barely hearda thing as the Centenaries bathed and dressed me. They painted my nails, curled my hair, even oiled my skin with a sweet-smelling perfume. I stared mutely at the wall the entire time, replaying every word Luther had ever spoken. First I convinced myself that what I saw meant nothing; then I convinced myself it meanteverything.

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