Page 46 of Lord of Fortune
“Not at all. I become a bit anxious when I’ve been in one place too long. I think it stems from my childhood. Before I went to live with my father, my first mother and I moved around a lot. We never stayed in one place longer than half a year.” He turned into a corridor and stopped in front of a door, which he unlocked.
“Why is that?”
He paused, turning his head to look at her before moving inside. “I’m not entirely sure. I don’t remember too much about her, but she was a nervous person.”
“I’m sorry. That you didn’t have a home,” she clarified softly, aching for the boy she hadn’t known.
He shrugged. “There’s nothing to be done about it, and things turned out all right in the end. I know she loved me—that I remember.”
Amelia smiled at him. That was really all that mattered.
“Welcome to my office,” he said grandly, sweeping his arm around the room as he turned toward her.
She could barely see a thing since it was dark, and the sconce from the stairwell didn’t lend nearly enough light. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”
He laughed, and she heard him striking flint. Soon a lantern on his desk was ablaze, splashing light around the cluttered space. It was an extension of his home, with a small fireplace, two mismatched wingbacked chairs flanking it, a long table shoved against one wall covered with artifacts, bookshelves, stuffed to overflowing, along the other wall, and a desk in front of them, stacked high with papers.
“Now that you can see it, you won’t be impressed at all,” he said with a healthy touch of humor.
“On the contrary. It looks like a scholar’s haven. When he’s weary of traveling, which apparently doesn’t happen often.”
He stared at her. “You understand me completely.”
She wasn’t sure aboutthat. The intensity of his gaze unnerved her. But in the best possible way. Breaking the connection between them, she went to the table and studied the array of items scattered atop the wood. “What is all this?”
“Things I’ve found that need to be catalogued or studied.”
“You’ve found all this?” She reached to touch a bronze disk but stopped, thinking that she probably shouldn’t.
“Most of it. I should clarify—people also bring me things, but the bulk of it is mine.”
The sound of him moving something caused her to turn. He stood at the fireplace clearing off the mantelpiece. She watched as he lifted the top off the wood, making the mantel look like a long, slender box.
She walked toward him. “Is that a box?”
“Indeed it is. A secret box, so you mustn’t tell anyone.”
“You trust me with your secrets?”
He pulled a sword from the mantel and pivoted toward her. “I do.”
She gasped. “Is that Dyrnwyn?”
“It is.” He brought it toward the desk, letting the light from the lantern better illuminate the weapon.
“It’s beautiful. It looks heavy.”
“Ridiculously so, actually. I worried that box wouldn’t hold it, but I made sure it was reinforced.” He transferred the hilt into her hand. “Here.”
She closed her fingers around it, and her arm instantly dropped. “My goodness, is it made of lead?”
He laughed softly. “No, something else we likely aren’t aware of. Apparently, it weighs nothing when Kersey holds it—or seems to anyway.” He took it back from her, for which she was grateful.
“Extraordinary.”
He set it on his desk and went back to the mantelpiece, arranging everything the way it was before. “It amused me to store it here at the museum when the Order was so intent on keeping it away from here.”
She grinned, appreciating the irony. “Well done.”
