Page 34 of The Exile's Curse

Nothing with any memories of family or marriage or Anglion tied to it.

If Lucien hadn't been on the mission, it would have been just about perfect, but the unwanted awareness that he was made a small dark spot in her enjoyment of the day. All she could do was ignore it and focus on doing her job. Which was mostly to listen as Colonel Brodier and Captain Theisse spoke to the commander and discussed mundane things like provisions and the quality of roads and handed over directives from the various imperial officers.

Chloe scribbled notes and also worked on storing the information in her head. She'd been cramming on the geography and politics of the empire, and the grounding she had from her studies at the Academe had come back easily enough, but a seasoned diplomat like Colonel Brodier had to know the empire intimately. Know things like the ai-fish catches being lower than usual, as the commander was relaying, and what that meant for the farmers here who apparently used the parts of the fish discarded from human consumption for fertilizing crops.

So she paid attention.

They finished with the commander after lunch and walked back to the navire.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Captain Theisse said as they stepped on deck. "Make sure you have a copy of those notes by the time we reach Elenia. We can send them back to Lumia then. But for now, you should head to language practice."

Damn. She'd forgotten about that part. That they would all be drilling on Andalyssian, trying to cement the language acquired by reveille. "Will you be joining us, sir?"

He shook his head. "I've been to Andalyssia before. I had a refresher rather than the full reveille. And I have duties to complete before we take off. But I will be joining the class for the next few days while we fly. So pay attention today."

Lucien regarded the door before him with something akin to distaste. And he was rarely troubled by such things as doors.

But today, he was troubled by many things. He'd been thankful when there had been no message for him upon landing, requesting the services of a Truth Seeker, and he'd been able to stay in his cabin for most of the morning and attempt to get his temper back under control.

He'd been trying—and failing—since the previous evening.

Not that he was angry, precisely. But he hadn't expected Chloe. Though, once he'd checked the final packet of briefing papers that he'd ignored back in Lumia, her name had been on the list of personnel the colonel had sent. So it was his own damned fault that he had been sandbagged by her presence.

He didn't blame anybody else for that.

But what was needling at him was why she had been included. The emperor, goddess damn it, was meddling. Either he was trying to put Lucien and Chloe together because he thought they had unfinished business between them or he was doing it because he thought it would be useful in another way.

Neither option sat easily. Chloe appeared to have no desire to mend fences, and he had to respect that. And if there was another reason Aristides wanted them together, then it would have been useful to know of it in advance.

But he had agreed to come on this mission. His emperor had asked, and he had, as usual, chosen to serve. Aristides owed him no explanations about personnel choices.

So, he needed to take control of himself and think of Chloe as just another junior lieutenant.

Which would be easier if Honore Brodier hadn't informed him after breakfast that Chloe would be one of the mages attending all the wedding ceremonies with him as Aristides’s proxies. It made a horrible sort of sense. There weren't that many officers in the mages who were noble born. There were plenty, of course, who were experienced with courts and protocol, but given the nature of diplomats, most of them were out in various parts of the empire at any given time and not so easily recalled. Chloe was the most experienced of the younger officers when it came to courts. She was also a widow, rather than an unmarried woman, which was helpful in Andalyssia, where unmarried women were subject to more rules than married ones, and she was Lady de Montesse, for better or worse.

He suspected that she, like he did, viewed it as worse.

An opinion that wouldn’t change when she learned that he would be escorting her to the balls and other celebrations surrounding the weather. Making conversation with her. Dancing with her.

The last time she'd stepped into his arms, she'd ended up fleeing the room afterward, and the stupid senseless male part of him had wanted to chase her down and not let her go, so that didn't bode well.

He gritted his teeth. He was a gentleman. A nobleman. He would respect her feelings. He could look at her dressed in whatever silks or satins or jewels she chose to drape herself in and still treat her as just another lieutenant.

He wouldn't enjoy it, but he would do it.

Two months. It wasn't forever.

Two months of frozen northern wilderness in a court of nobles who didn't welcome Illvyans and the woman who hated him.

It would just seem like forever.

He suppressed a sigh. Goddess damned duty.

Some days it was easier to bear than others. Today it was a choke chain at his throat. But he was sworn to serve, so he went where he was sent, he did his work, and he did it well.

A Truth Seeker. One of the emperor's hounds of justice, on watch for prey.

It was a speech that Maxim Girarde, the advocate general, liked to give to younger members of the judiciary. Leaning heavy on the glory and righteousness of the law. Of the rewards of being a faithful servant of the empire.

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