Page 122 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“And she reciprocated?”
“Yes.” His heart thrummed as he recalled the softness of Mavery’s lips, the warmth of her breath, the eagerness of her touch. “Most enthusiastically.”
“Tesseraunt, you sly dog!” Declan said with a grin. Though his tankard was empty, he raised it and clinked it against Alain’s.
“We violated the Covenants!” Alain hissed as a wave of heat crept up his neck. “This is no cause for celebrations!”
Declan waved a hand. “Bah! Even those cadavers on the High Council have broken a covenant or ten. If you don’t believe me,I’ve an island off the coast of Zakarza I’ll sell you.”
“But—”
“Look, lad, you’llfind no judgment from me. Leona and I were a pair of fools who acted on a whim, without sparing a thought for the consequences. You, on the contrary, donothingon a whim, and you could stand to spendlesstime thinking about consequences. If you want my advice—”
Alain didn’t, but he doubted he would have much say in the matter.
“—forget about the Covenants.It’s clear as day that woman makes you happy; her name alone is enough to turn you into a grinning fool.”
Had he beenthatobvious? The heat, now concentrated in Alain’s face, refused to subside.
“See?” Declan chuckled. “There you go again! So, follow your heart and pursue her. After everything you went through this past year, you deserve a little happiness.”
“Declan, I…”
He couldn’t find the words to tell Declan that pursuing his assistant had been the catalyst for that miserable year. That, while he knew Declan was right, he couldn’t risk repeating that same mistake.
Butwouldit be the same mistake? Mavery wasn’t Conor. To mention the two of them in the same breath was to disparage her, because she was a better person than him in every conceivable way. Someone like Mavery didn’t deserve to be hidden away like some shameful secret. A single minute with her made Alain happier than all his years of teaching combined.
At that moment, Alain knew what he needed to do.
Declan sighed. “I should’ve been a better friend when you needed me most.”
“Nonsense. You were going through a divorce.”
Declan snorted. “Mythird, and for a marriage I’d finishedmourning a long time ago.”
“Well, regardless, you did plenty. You covered my exams when I couldn’t leave my apartment. You attempted to visit me when I was at my lowest point. Though I wasn’t receptive to it at the time, I appreciate it. Truly.”
Declan reached across the table and gripped Alain’s shoulder. His eyes were misty, and for a second, Alain wondered if he would actually shed a tear. But then Declan’s gaze fixated on Alain’s tankard.
“Are you going to finish that?”
“It’s all yours,” Alain said, pushing it toward Declan. He would need a clear head when he returned home this evening.
Thirty-Six
Mavery winced as the liquid burned her tongue. She knew she’d let the water get too hot. She placed the mug on the tea table to cool, then settled for pulling a blanket around her shoulders and curling herself into a tight ball on the sofa.
The moment she returned to the apartment, she’d kicked off her boots and discarded her brassière. Yet, discomfort persisted. She was tempted to throw caution to the wind and pour the entire mug of scalding liquid down her throat. It couldn’t hurt any worse than her feet, her lower abdomen, her head.
It was tempting to blame all this misery on Neldren. But no, he was only to blame for the headache—and, arguably, her blistered feet. The other aches had started this morning, with the arrival of her monthly courses.
As she readjusted, seeking a more comfortable position, the door opened. Alain entered with a broad smile and more vigor than she’d expected from someone who’d been conducting exams all day. But upon seeing her, his smile faded and his shoulders slouched.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.” He closed the door behind him. “One, you look completely out of sorts. Two, you’re doing that hair-tucking thing youdo whenever there’s something vexing you.”
