Lord Church’s expression was bemused as he tilted his head at Cedric. “Pardon?”
Cedric flushed, the back of his neck prickling. “The sylvans. They are people, not creatures.” He swallowed under the lord’s penetrating gaze, felt his walls come up as he steeled himself against the instinct to take it back, to bury his insolence, to smother the words under an apology.
“Of course,” said Lord Church slowly. “I misspoke.”
They walked the rest of the way to the office in silence. When Lord Church stopped before the door, turning to Cedric once more before heading inside, there was a strange smile on his face. It looked warm, soft, appreciative.
It felt . . . false.
Cedric tried to mask his discomfort with a respectful bow. “Is there anything I can do for you, my lord? I was hoping to get some more training time in before preparations for the trip begin in earnest.”
“General preparations are nearly complete,” Lord Church said, that off-kilter smile still on his face. “You may take all the time you need to train, to ready yourself for what’s to come. To say goodbye?”
Cedric wasn’t sure he really meant it as a question, but that’s how it felt. “I will certainly bid farewell to Tenny before I depart,” he said.
Lord Church pursed his lips. “You are not a man who lends himself to pretense, Cedric. So please, do not pretend with me.”
“My lord?”
“I understand very well that you have no intention of marrying my daughter right now. And I also understand—I think we both know, in fact—that Portentia cares for you a great deal. It would certainly be a comfort to me to see the two of you in alignment. Especially given these uncertain times.”
“My lord, I?—”
“I would caution you that whatever it is youthinkyou want instead, whatever flights of fancy might be tempting you elsewhere, you consider your duty to the crown. You remember your obligation to your people. Accords or no, we would all do well to remember that they are not the same as us.”
The words settled on Cedric’s shoulders like a boulder.
Lord Church sighed. “The Revenant is a very beautiful creature. I can almost understand it.” Something like wistfulness danced between the words, setting Cedric on edge. “In a different life, I might have”—he cut himself off with the cluck of his tongue—“but alas, here we are.”
Cedric did not know what to make of the lord’s words, so busy was he trying to smother the white-hot bolt of possessive fury that suddenly flared behind his ribs. It was so powerful that he almost stumbled on his feet. Heat curled in his veins, and when he glanced down, he saw his fists were clenched so tightly at his sides that he suspected he would have fingernail-shaped marks in his palms when he relaxed them.
If the lord noticed the tension radiating off his ward, he did not let on. “I do believe this journey will be good for you, son,” he said, that false smile back on his face. “It will give you some much-needed space, I think. Clarity. And perhaps, when you return, you will do so with the understanding of where your loyalties truly lie.”
22
THOSE WHO CAN’T DO
CEDRIC
The libraryin King’s Keep was rather intimate compared to the aisles and aisles of carefully cared for books that made up the one at the academy in Paideus. The small room was filled with floor-to-ceiling shelves and rolling ladders that had always made Cedric feel far more comfortable than the rest of the cavernous rooms in the palace. Even as a child, he could remember sneaking off between lessons, hiding in one of the quiet alcoves with a book until Tristan or Tenny or, heaven forbid, Lord Church came looking for him.
It was in one of these alcoves, lounging in a narrow velvet armchair with a small pile of scrolls pooled in their lap, that Cedric found Tenebris Nox.
The nocterrian did not look upas Cedric approached.
“You seem like the sort of person who knows a lot of things about a lot of things,” Cedric said, his tone carefully measured.
“Do I?” drawled the nocterrian. “What kind of things do you need to know about?”
“It was suggested that you might be able to help me with my, uh...” Cedric rubbed the back of his neck, lowering his voice to a whisper despite the fact that they were the only two people present. “You know.”
“Your magic.” Nox finally tilted their head toward Cedric. “You won’t burst into flames by speaking the word, you know.”
“Humans aren’t supposed to have magic of their own.”
“You also don’t need to whisper. I can promise, the shadows are the only ones listening.”
Cedric didn’t find that particularly comforting.
