Page 73 of A Deception of Courts

“Go on, I need something stiff to settle my mind,” I said. “Get to opening it.”

Duncan’s brows rose, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips. “And if it is something stiff that will solve issues, I have a better idea of what can be offered.”

I didn’t react to Duncan quick enough. By the time I dragged myself out of my mind somewhat and plastered on a fake smile, it was too late. His dark brows furrowed, painting concern across his handsome face. “Ah, I think I’ve overstepped.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, dropping my chin in defeat to my chest.

“Don’t be.” Duncan towered above me as I slouched in a moth-eaten chair. The fabric had certainly seen better days and smelt like damp mould. But at least I was able to make myself sit in one place and not pace around, like I wanted to do. “Here, you need this more than me.”

Duncan bit his teeth down on the edge of the cork and tugged. The pop was satisfying. So was the spray of red liquid that escaped onto his lips. One swipe of his tongue and the droplets were gone. He pulled a face, dramatically widening his eyes. I watched as he determined if the taste was good enough.

“Has it spoiled?”

“It’ll do,” Duncan confirmed, although the furrow of his thick brow suggested otherwise.

With a lack of confidence, but an overwhelming desire to drown out my thoughts, I snatched the bottle and took the longest gulp.

Duncan’s reaction wasn’t misplaced. It tasted vile at first, burning down my throat – something wine shouldn’t do. But the aftertaste was when the flavours of fruit revealed themselves beneath the sharper tang that only age could be blamed for – the buzz spreading through me was exactly what I needed.

“And you’re sure there aren’t any more of these?” I asked, waving the bottle at him like it was a bone to a dog. “This one isn’t going to last long.”

Duncan’s dark curtain of hair had fallen before his eye as he shook his head. He combed his fingers back through it, tucking it neatly behind a curved ear. “Just the one, so make it last, darling.”

“How unfortunate,” I replied, knocking back another gulp, not caring for the dribble that escaped down the side of my mouth, coating my chin in sticky, red liquid.

“Do you want to talk to me about it?”

I shrugged, not sure where to even begin. “We don’t need to.”

“But we can. Share the burden I can see haunting your mind.” Duncan urged my knees apart with his legs until he stood between them. Then he knelt. Groaning slightly as his knees met the cold, hard floor of the room. He was just shy of eye height in this position. It gave me no excuse but to look at him. “This is what I’m here for, darling. Allow me to shoulder some of your woes.”

I knew this was coming. I was just glad I had some rush of wine to aid me in picking a worry to start with.

“It feels wrong not acknowledging Seraphine and the Asps’ deaths,” I admitted, still hearing Gyah’s comment ringing in my head.No one grieves an assassin.

“What happened was not your fault.”

“Then whose?” I asked. “If I had not gone to see them, then they would be alive.”

Duncan’s fingers dug into my thighs. It was a pleasant grip, one that sent a shiver up my spine. “There is no good taking the blame for another’s actions. Robin, I don’t want to hear you take it again.”

“But it’s true. They died because I was there. It is a fact, and I appreciate you trying to say otherwise, but you can’t deny the truth.”

“Those monsters could have taken you, Robin, but from what you described, that wasn’t their purpose. They went to Imeria to destroy it. There is no saying whether your presence at the castle drew them there or if something else did. And until we know, speculating isn’t going to help. I want you – no, Ineedyou to stop putting yourself as the reason for all the bad that happens around you. You didn’t invite the Draeic to Imeria, nor did you command them to do what they did. Seraphine, the Asps, their blood is not on your hands.”

“Perhaps not my hands, but it stains my land,” I replied. “My court.”

There was no good admitting that I still didn’t believe him. Even now, I fixated on Berrow and how my presence here would only bring more danger to these streets. I promised to free and protect the fey who followed me blindly here. My promises of protection and safety should not have been made.

“I wish to honour them. Without the Asps, without Seraphine, there is no saying how life would look right now.”

“Then we shall do just that.” The muscles in Duncan’s jaw tensed as he regarded me with fierce determination. “But first, you need to rest.”

“First, I need to see that Aldrick dies and Duwar’s name is forgotten alongside him.”

A storm passed over Duncan’s face at the mention of the Hand’s name. Sparks of purple light danced in the dark points of his pupils. “His time will come. That, I can promise.”

We both hated the man for differing reasons. However, even I knew just how Duncan felt, considering it was Aldrick who lied about his birth parents, using the idea of one day getting the name of the person who killed them, when that was something Aldrick never knew.

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