Page 32 of The Exile's Curse

Chloe's stomach was starting to rumble, too. Her nerves had mostly gone now that she was underway and knew she could get along with her roommate. She'd spent so little time sharing living quarters with other people over the last ten years that she wasn't sure how she'd react to sharing such a small room. But Giane was funny and easygoing, and it seemed likely that they would get along well enough.

They made their way to the mess hall, Giane leading the way with confidence. The imperial army still only had a few navires, and so far all of them had been built to Imogene's initial design, which in turn had been based on the medium-sized courier ships the navy used for ferrying small delegations or important passengers around in the past, or so Imogene had informed her.

"Know one of them, know them all" had been her exact words. Giane had repeated them as she'd led the way from their cabin. Which was useful, to know it was true. It made it simpler to think that if they changed vessels, Chloe would still be able to find her way around. A small piece of confirmation to start building her own confidence in this new venture.

But that pleased sense of hopeful confidence only lasted as long as it took to step through the doors of the mess hall and realize the man seated to Colonel Brodier's right at the head of the dining table was Lucien.

Chapter 11

Her first instinct was to turn on her heel and run. Swiftly followed by the realization that there was nowhere to runto.

She could hardly fling herself over the edge of the navire. The mages who kept the damned thing aloft couldn’t catch her midair and save her. Instead, she froze in place, staring at Lucien like a rabbit who spotted a fox.

What in the name of the goddess is he doing here?

He didn't notice her at first, his attention on his plate as he buttered a roll. Until Colonel Brodier said mildly, "Don't stand there blocking the doorway, Lieutenant de Montesse. Take your seat and eat before it gets cold," and Lucien's head snapped up a shade too fast.

Their eyes met, his flaring wide for the blink of an eye, the wild green of them piercing. He held her gaze a few seconds too long before he composed himself and looked away. Somehow she managed to make her legs move and walked to the closest empty chair, sat, and tried to remember how to behave like everything was normal. Her hands moved by rote, laying her napkin over her lap and then reaching for water as her mind whirled.

Lucien?Lucien was on this mission. On this navire. How? And why had nobody mentioned it to her? She racked her brain for whether there'd been a full list of the personnel in any of the briefing notes. But no, they'd been full of Andalyssian political history, not logistics other than information about when to report to the navire.

She hadn't really thought about who she would be working with on the mission, too swept up in the unexpectedness of being chosen at all, and too new to the corps to make any educated guesses. She hadn't even met most of the corps yet.

It had never occurred to her that Lucien might be going. He wasn't even in the corps. Imogene couldn’t have known either. She would have told Chloe.

Long years of practice at hiding her feelings got her through the dinner. The food was hot, but beyond that, she didn't notice anything about it, eating only because it would draw attention not to. Giane sat on her right, and the senior lieutenant, Bertrand Rennie, opposite her. She concentrated on them, avoiding any reason to look to the head of the table. She pretended to drink the wine served but mostly sipped water, wanting to keep a clear head as her thoughts continued to reel.

What the hell was happening? Lucien here? On this mission? Why?

As one of the Truth Seekers sent to Andalyssia after the Ashmeister Elannon incident, it seemed unlikely that he would have won himself many friends there. So why was he included in what was supposed to be a goodwill mission to show the new king support?

Was there more to the mission than she'd been told? It was entirely possible. She was brand-new and wouldn't be told everything. But if she was going to be doing more than merely the usual junior lieutenant things of note-taking and organizing and being a dogsbody as needed, if she was to attend the balls and ceremonies and speak with the members of the Andalyssian court, shouldn't she know if they had another agenda?

Maybe she was yet to be briefed.

Or had Aristides had a hand in this? She had no idea why the emperor would be keen to throw her into Lucien's company, but neither could she imagine that the emperor didn't know the precise history between them. Truth Seekers were rare, and they almost all worked for him.

Illvyan aristos committing treason were rare, too. So, no. She had no doubt that Aristides knew exactly who had prosecuted her husband's case.

Was he trying to mend fences between them? Or was there something else at play? Some connection to Charl?

She sipped water again as the next course was served, her throat dry.

Maybe she was being ridiculous. Maybe Aristides couldn’t care less about her, and he had needed a Truth Seeker on this mission, and Lucien had been the one who was available. Regardless of how he had come to be on the mission, he was. And she had to spend the next few months in close quarters with him.

That was going to go well, considering it had taken approximately fifteen minutes at Imogene's ball for his company to nearly undo her.

She risked a glance in his direction, keeping her face turned toward Lieutenant Rennie opposite.

Curse her luck, he was looking her way. She flicked her attention back to her plate. Had he noticed? Surely he had. Ugh.

He didn't miss much, Lucien. Of the three of them, he had the best mind for detail and precision. A natural inclination, honed by his Academe training and his choice of profession. Now he was a marq, too, who had to remember the intricate details of an entire estate to look after it and his people. He never did anything halfway, so she could only imagine he'd worked even harder on improving his organization and attention to detail. Useful traits for a diplomat, she supposed.

Damn the man.

What was he doing here?

Why did a mission to Andalyssia require a Truth Seeker?

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