Page 97 of Sanctifier

So easily, she pressed her lips to his. He stilled, and for a moment, she thought he would push her away. Then he parted his lips for her and returned the kiss, slowly, carefully. As if they stood balanced upon the edge of a knife.

Ru spoke a eulogy in the kiss. He yielded to her with precision, and she filled the gaps with everything they could have been.

It was only a moment. A brief intermission. And yet it spanned for what felt like a lifetime, and when Ru broke away, she found that tears had formed in the corners of her eyes. Lord D’Luc stared at her, his lips parted. They stood together in the snow, a silent understanding. A farewell.

Then, as one, they moved apart, the distance between their bodies a widening gulf.

He straightened his coat, brushed smooth the wrinkles where Ru had grasped it in her fingers. The mask fell into place. Another edge of Ru’s heart crumbled and fell free, tumbling into the abyss.

She knew that had been the last time she would ever see the real Hugon.

He said, clipped and matter-of-fact: “You will do what is required of you, Delara. That is all.”

CHAPTER 35

With ten days left until the solstice, Lady Bellenet hosted an exclusive dinner party in her personal chambers. It was the first time Ru had been back since losing Lyr. Simon was in attendance, playing uplifting tunes on his lute. A sullen snow fell outside. Normally, Ru would have reveled in the cozy atmosphere, the plates of tiny cakes, the music and candlelight, warm inside while winter’s fingers tapped at curtained windows.

Instead, she was anxious, agitated like a caged animal. Even with Taryel at her side, even with a steady, comforting warmth from within — the artifact’s soothing presence — Ru could not stop herself from seeking out Lady Bellenet wherever she was in the room. And always nearby, Hugon D’Luc.

They hadn’t spoken more than a few words to one another since that morning in the snow. Demonstrations with the artifact played out by rote, with Hugon urging her and Ru holding the artifact at bay, desperate not to lose control.

Ru told no one what had been shared between her and Lord D’Luc. It would accomplish nothing. And part of her wanted to keep it for herself, a moment of truth between her and her enemy. It felt too private, too honest to share. So she held it close and tried not to despair.

Because not once has he let the mask slip, not once has she seen the true Hugon looking out through those ice-blue eyes. Not once since that fateful morning. Knowing he was there, yet unable to reach him, made her chest ache.

As if understanding what she needed just then, Taryel wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. The gleeful remarks from nearby courtiers had become so common they fell into background noise, Ru hardly noticing.

“You’re worrying,” Taryel said, his voice low. He and Ru stood near the hearth, and firelight warmed his dark features as he studied Ru’s face. The obvious love in his eyes made her heart feel as if it were too big for her ribs.

“When am I not?” she muttered. “Ten days, and I have nothing. The only way to drain her power is to deprive her of victims. What do we do, empty the palace?”

“It’s not…impossible,” Taryel said.

“It may as well be,” said Ru.

Taryel bent his head to hers, as if he was going to kiss her or murmur some comforting words. But before he could do either, Lady Bellenet swept into the center of the parlor, pinging a tiny silver spoon against a glass. Every eye in the room went to her — she was radiant and deadly.

“Good evening,” she said, smiling warmly at those gathered. “It has been too long since I held one of my dinner parties. Don’t you agree?”

An exultant cheer went up from her party guests, all except Ru, Taryel, and — Ru noticed — Hugon D’Luc.

“Then come forward, friends, if you wish to be blessed in the name of Festra.” Lady Bellenet’s words rang in that elegant room like a death knell.

At once, breathless courtiers lined up before her, everyone in attendance. Ru scanned the crowd for Simon, knowing he wouldn’t be there but anxious all the same. He would becreeping from shadow to shadow for a while yet, avoiding the gaze of Lady Bellenet and her Children. Ru let out a slow breath when she was certain of his absence.

“Kneel before me,” said Lady Bellenet, gazing down at the courtier first in line.

“She’s not…” Ru said, pressing closer to Taryel. “She won’t. Not here, surely.”

He said nothing. There was nothing he could have said to reassure her.

The “blessings” didn’t take long. One after another, Lady Bellenet placed her hand on the head of each courtier, or pressed their hand, or gazed into their eyes. It seemed she didn’t need to touch them in a certain way, all she had to do was connect with each soul. And then came a flash of light, blinding and horrible, before she moved on to the next.

“I ought to have brought my tinted spectacles,” one courtier remarked laughingly to another as they waited to be blessed. “Terrible on the eyes.”

Ru watched Lord D’Luc with something like hatred. He stood across the room, leaning against the wall with a glass of wine in one hand, watching the blessings with an expression of detached disinterest. Ru wondered if he went to bed with Lady Bellenet, if she made herself vulnerable to him. She wondered how many opportunities he’d been presented with, how many times he might have slipped a blade between the lady’s ribs or across her throat. Yet there he stood, simply observing. Useless.

“There’s nothing we can do,” Taryel murmured. “If you intervene… she’ll take your friends.”