Page 35 of Ruled By Magic

“It might be too late by then!” A memory rolled through my consciousness. The Lord Commander, face set in bored disdain as he sentenced Hex. Self-loathing drew around me in a suffocating cloud. Disgust at myself for enjoying the things he made me do. For taking pleasure from the man who stole ten years of Hex’s life. For playing the role of his pampered harlot while Hex suffered.

“If she ran, it’s your fault!”

His face was a picture of shock, eyes wide and mouth open. Not used to being challenged. His surprise at my outburst only fed my anger.

“She didn’t deserve such a long sentence and you know it. You just wanted to punish her.”

“Which she deserved, as you did!”

“She exposed mages who paid off judges and Guardians. Nothing to do with your friend!” My breath came in hard pants. “She didn’t hurt you. And now she might be dead.”

“Be quiet.” The tight set of his jaw, the snap of the words, spelled danger. “You’ll watch how you speak to me. Just because we’re—” His hands flexed into fists, and he took a deep breath. “Remember your position here.”

“How could I forget?” I waved a hand at my outfit, the typical daytime uniform of silky blouse and short, tight skirt. “I can’t look in a mirror without a reminder.”

“Last warning, Liv.”

I stared at the soft white rug beneath my feet and fought to master myself. A sickly mix of guilt and anger churned inside me. The anger streamed two ways. At him, and inwards, at myself. Maybe if I’d been braver, I might have persuaded him to reduce Hex’s sentence. But I hadn’t even tried. I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the edge of my skirt.

Keep your cool.

Antagonizing him wouldn’t help Hex. I needed him. Several deep breaths, and a semblance of sanity returned. I brought my gaze back to him and forced out, “Sorry, Lord Commander.”

He let out a sharp breath and rubbed a hand across his face. For the first time, I examined him properly. Dark shadows ringed his eyes, bruised in a pale face. Rumpled clothes and hair added to a disheveled look. Not his usual immaculate self.

“What happened to you?”

He focused on me with what looked like an effort. “I tried an experimental technique to search for the prisoners, and it didn’t work. It took a lot of my magic.”

My anger dulled. He’d tried and exhausted himself in the process. At least he could do something useful to help. More than I could. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be back to normal in the morning.” He closed his eyes. “It’s frustrating. Other territories are far beyond us. I’ve heard rumors of devices that can track body heat across miles. But we’re stuck in the Dark Ages thanks to the priests.”

“Thanks for trying.” I rested my hand on his leg.

“Hexara seems tough. I’m sure she’ll be okay.”

I wished I could feel as confident as he sounded. Hex was tough, but also a city girl with no interest in the outdoors. She’d be helpless in the forest.

The Lord Commander fell asleep in minutes. I removed his shoes, laid him down flat, and covered him with a blanket. His eyes flickered behind his lids, his breathing soft and even. Peaceful and vulnerable. It twisted something inside my chest, and I stamped down on the emotion.

I hadn’t seen him asleep before. Every night he slept in his own room, which I never entered. It made sense. I was an outsider, with good cause to hate him. Now, he trusted me enough to doze off on the sofa.

How quickly things change. With a last glance at the Lord Commander, I took myself off to bed.

They called off the search a week later. Hex and the other escapees remained at large. I couldn’t sleep that night, consumed by guilt, worry, and my total inability to help. My worst fear, the one my mind skittered away from, kept trying to press in. I might never find out what happened to Hex. Hundreds of Dexians vanished into the forest each year, never to return.

The next morning, I woke up late. I pulled up short as I left my room. The Lord Commander—casually dressed in jeans and a fitted black t-shirt, sprawled on the sofa with his feet up, reading a book. I stared. In my seven weeks at the palace, he hadn’t taken a single day for himself. Weekends meant he finished work in the early afternoon. I only saw him out of a suit when he was naked.

I had to take a moment to admire him. The clothes displayed his tight, muscular figure, and his unstyled hair made me want to run my fingers through it. He still knocked me sideways with the force of his physical presence. He spotted me, and he shifted his legs to make room on the sofa.

“How did you sleep?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Not great. What are you doing here?”

“I live here. It’s actually my apartment.” A smile passed across his lips.

I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean. Dressed all—” I waved a hand at his clothing.

---