Page 91 of The Exile's Curse

When the feeling left her, he was gone.

Chapter 26

The rest of the afternoon lasted an eternity, as she smiled and tried to act as though nothing alarming had happened. Irina and Katiya seemed determined not to leave her alone for an instant, giving her no chance to send a note to Lucien, and she smiled and pretended to pay attention until they finally took her back to her room after a long dinner.

After they left, she pressed her ear to the door, listening to their voices grow faint before she turned to write Lucien a note. The difficulty was how to phrase it so as not to give things away should it be read in transit. Eventually she limited herself to a comment that she had seen someone who had asked after their mutual friend again and buried it in innocuous pre-wedding nonsense before she sealed it with the signet and sent Allita to take it to Lucien.

While she waited for Allita to return, she changed into her night things—it was easier to get out of Andalyssian clothing without assistance than Illyvan—and lay down on the covers, wondering how she was going to fall asleep.

Tomorrow she'd be married again.

To Lucien.

It seemed impossible.

She closed her eyes, determined to at least rest if she couldn't sleep.

"Chloe." A man's voice.

Lucien.

Her eyes flew open, and she struggled to sit. The lamps in the room were still alight, as was the fire. But she'd clearly fallen asleep. Because Lucien was sitting in a chair by her bed.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in a furious whisper. "You're not supposed to see me."

"I bribed someone to tell me where they were hiding you," Lucien said. "Told them I wanted to arrange a surprise for you. Apparently gold and grand romantic gestures are effective."

"People could see you."

He lifted a brow, smiling. "One day you'll remember that I'm an illusioner. We're sneaky."

He was the very definition of not sneaky. Too honorable to sneak. Except when it came to seeing her, it seemed. The thought set up a small, pleased glow in her stomach that she didn't want to think too hard about.

"Also, we're good at concealment illusions," he continued. "And most Andalyssians aren't good at seeing through them. So here we are. You didn't think I'd want to talk to you after that note?"

"I thought you'd wait until after the wedding." She glanced across the room to the clock set on the mantel above the fireplace. After midnight. At least he'd waited long enough that the hallways of the palace should be relatively empty.

"You seemed upset. Tell me what happened. Was it the same man as before?"

Upset? How had he known that? She’d been careful to keep any hint of alarm out of the message.

There was no time to waste. She needed to tell him what happened and then send him on his way. "I think so. I was in the garden in the royal wing, and he found me," she admitted. "I think he was using an illusion of some kind, but the magic felt...odd. But I don’t see any other way he could have gotten into that part of the terraces. So some Andalyssians, at least, must be good at illusions."

"Or they have help from someone who is," Lucien said.

"Perhaps. He was using some magic, at least. And whoever he is, and whatever magic he has, he wasn't pleased that we are marrying. Told me I was making a mistake to ally myself with the wrong side, that you were dangerous."

"Me?"

"I don't think he's on the side of House Elannon. He didn't seem to want them restored. He seemed to think you were going to clear them—so maybe that is useful information. Maybe they are sincere if there are others who want to stop them. I tried to convince him I’m still sympathetic to their cause, but I'm not sure he was satisfied. He seemed...anxious. A guard patrol interrupted us, and he vanished.”

“What do you mean, vanished?”

“Another illusion, perhaps. His magic felt very strange.” She clasped her hands around her knees, remembering the look on the man's face before he'd run, his hand reaching for her, and shivered. But she didn't tell Lucien how scared she'd been in that instant. Of being taken. Forced to go somewhere against her will.

But she didn't need to. He moved to the bed and reached for her hand. She let him take it, allowing herself the comfort. With him, with the sense of the bond between them clear, there was safety and comfort. And, as the awareness of his fingers on her skin flared, something more.

"No one is going to hurt you, Chloe. You can trust me on that. I'll talk to Honore in the morning. We need to be on alert if these people are growing reckless. There will be sanctii watching you when you're not with me. It's a pity you don't have one of your own, but there's not much we can do about that. After the wedding, we'll talk to Mikvel. Trust me. I won't let anything happen to you."

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