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In fact, he did wince, then adjust the way he reclined. He gestured to one of a few chairs close to his own and said, “I’m well enough. Come. Sit down.”
I did as he asked, shuffled into one of the chairs, then perched anxiously on its edge, hands folded over my knees.
I didn’t know why I felt so awkward around Ludvig. I’d been his pup for over a year. I’d shared his bed, his table, his thoughts, everything. He’d seen me at my weakest and my strongest. He’d listened to me moaning with pleasure as he fucked me, and he’d held me while I cried after confessing my unnatural feelings for my father. More than anyone I’d ever known, he’d been on the inside of my thoughts and my heart.
So why was it so hard to look him in the eyes?
“That man, Constantine, is a wizard when it comes to healing,” Ludvig said, clearly speaking to put me at ease. “So is the healer from Good Port that Lord Vikhrov had visit last night. It’s only been a few days, but I feel like a new man. They tell me I’m lucky that my wounds were not as serious as they looked. Infection had just begun to set in on the sword wound, but Constantine was able to stave it off.
“Lord Vikhrov’s healer brought some astounding remedies to me as well,” he went on when I didn’t say anything. “Apparently, they have medicines here in Good Port from all over the globe. He’s been treating me with an exotic tincture that he swears fights infections of all sorts from the inside out.”
“So you’ll recover?” I asked quietly, feeling hopeful. “Fully?”
“Apparently so,” Ludvig said with a smile. “And as I said, I already feel better. I’m just weak and exhausted now. I protested about feeling so tired, but as Lord Vikhrov’s healer said, my body’s efforts are all being expended internally right now, and I should behave in the same way as if I had run halfway across the forest without stopping.”
“Good, that’s good,” I said.
Then I couldn’t think of anything else to say, even though I had more thoughts and feelings trapped within me than I’d ever had in my life.
“So tell me what’s going on down there,” Ludvig said, a knowing glint in his eyes, when I was silent for too long. “I’ve seen people coming and going since dawn, but I’ve only heard small bits of conversation. Magnus came to see me this morning, and he told me that Lord Vikhrov’s steward had been murdered on the boat, but that you lot have no idea who the murderer is.”
“They don’t know yet,” I said, speaking as if I were separate from the “you lot” he’d mentioned. “They have a few solid ideas. Lefric believes the murderer is either the same as or in league with whoever killed Olympus’s secretary, Gregorius. Magnus found this notebook in Hedeon that apparently has the names of a great many of the spies on the frontier in it.”
“Magnus told me,” Ludvig said, nodding. “That was a handy discovery to make. And it was foolish for that man, Hadrian, to write down all those names in one place.”
I nodded, definitely agreeing.
It felt so awkward speaking to Ludvig as though we were equals, as though we were friends. On the one hand, of course we were friends after everything we’d shared. On the other, he was my superior, my master. Or, he had been.
“And the estate is locked down?” Ludvig went on, prompting me to say more. “No one allowed in or out?”
I nodded, raising my eyes to meet his again. “They decided to secure the estate completely, even for those who are known to be innocent, after Lefric was attacked in the city this morning.”
“Lefric was attacked?” That seemed to upset Ludvig to the point where he jerked in his chair, then winced with pain at the movement.
“Careful, Ludvig. You’re still recovering,” I said, slipping forward to catch his blanket and to position it over his legs again.
“I’ll be fine.” Ludvig brushed my care away. “Who would attack Lefric?” he asked. “Unless your friend was talking so much that he annoyed someone.” Ludvig laughed softly.
“Some people in Good Port think that Lefric and Olympus were responsible for the secretary’s murder,” I said. “They aren’t, of course. You know Lefric couldn’t hurt a mouse if he tried.”
“Very true,” Ludvig nodded.
“It’s all connected,” I went on. “Billie recognized a lot of the names in the spy notebook as prominent people in Good Port, but mostly men who are in the employ of the Arzumanyan family, who are rivals to the Hakobyan family.”
“Billie?” Ludvig asked, a different sort of sparkle in his eyes. “Is that your new friend?”
Every inch of me heated like a furnace, and I glanced down. Ludvig had observed me with Hayk. As I replayed the scenes that had just happened in the garden and by the gate—both of which were within Ludvig’s line of sight—I realized he could easily have seen me holding Hayk’s hand.
“Billie is the woman,” I said, speaking just loud enough for Ludvig to hear me. “The man is her brother, Hayk.”
“Friends of Lefric’s?” Ludvig guessed. When I peeked at him again, his expression asked whether Hayk was a friend of mine.
“Yes,” I answered, so hot I would have to start peeling off my clothes soon for a little relief. “He’s…they are…they…work in one of the brothels along the waterfront.”
Ludvig gaped at me for a moment, then burst into a laugh.
“Oh, Anton, my boy,” he said, wincing with pain, but still laughing. “Only you would find yourself entranced with a whore.”
