“She does.I should have asked your permission, I’m aware.I beg your pardon for whatever insult I have given you.It was unintended.”
“Explain.”The king’s voice was clipped, though his breathing labored.
“She was betrothed to another man.The Marquess of Fordham.But she grew up with him and had no desire to marry a man she considered a brother.”
“Marriages are not about what women want, Knightly.”
“Then think of it as what I want.”
The king chuckled then coughed.“Love at first sight?”
Love at first sip.
No.The love had come much later than their first meeting.It had circled slowly around Finsbury Square and climbed through windows at odd hours.It had settled like a morning fog about Bloomsbury Square and sunk like dye into the fabric of the sheets spread across their bed.
“I can see it on your face.You dog.You stole another man’s bride.I’d never thought you the romantic sort, Knightly.”
That sounded reassuringly like acceptance.“We are nervous about her cousin, Your Majesty.When he discovers she’s married, he may… become violent.”
“Fordham?That young buck?He’s a sot now more than anything, but he’s not dangerous.Curious chap.Don’t think he wears a glamour, though his line always has, the same one, too.”The king’s glamour shivered like a leaf about to fall.
Mr.Squires had suspected that, too—that Fordham went about naked of any illusion.And now Temple knew it was true.He knew why as well.
“You and your bride will attend the next ball in three days’ time” the king said.
“But Fordham?—”
“Can’t do a damn thing but tarnish his own reputation if he so much as sneers at a woman I’ve given my blessing to.”
That was right.The safest place for Diana was under the king’s protection.The vise that had been clamping his chest all evening released.Hell, it felt good to be able to breathe.
“Fordham,” the king mused.“An old title.Strong talent in their veins.An excellent alliance.I encourage you to make friends with your wife’s cousin.To apologize profusely for stealing his bride.I’ll gift him the list of potential brides I made for you.I don’t remember the Fordham chit.She can’t be much to look at.”
She was divine.“Her grandfather cloaked her appearance with a glamour.”
“Crafty old fucker.Well, I assure you the ladies I put on your list—Fordham’s list—need no material improvement.He’ll be well satisfied.Their families are well-off, too.Thriving estates.It will be a much better match for him.Spend your worry on something else.”The king stood, gestured at the door.“Like the other project.”
“There’s not a way,” Temple said softly.
“If you think that’s true, there are other alchemists.Smarter ones, better ones.Royal Alchemist is a position I can take away at will.And it is the only thing standing between you and utter ruin.”
Temple stood and bowed.“I’ll work harder.”Nothing else to do.Nothing left to say.The king guaranteed Temple’s family’s survival.And now Diana’s safety, too.
The king coughed and stepped toward a side door that, Temple presumed, led to Clarence House.A guard appeared out of the shadows, and Temple watched them leave before leaving himself.
He climbed back into the carriage, the day, the weeks, the months since he’d demanded an audience with the king and handed over an alchemist secret circling wildly in his head.Was he doing the right thing?By his family?By Diana?By the king who refused to accept he’d never speak with his daughter again?
Perhaps the rules of the Alchemist Guild had value.They told you what to do and how to do it, and when you followed them, you didn’t have to question your actions.
No.Those men would have seen lives lost rather than release their small grasp of power.The transcendents, too, acted only for their own gain.
Transcendents and alchemists, west and east.They pulled and pushed like magnetic poles, demanding Temple’s loyalty, his bent knee, and the very sweat of his body.
But Temple bowed to no man.
A woman, however…
He rerouted the carriage driver, and when they stopped in front of a quiet townhouse, he jumped down, knocked hard on the door.When it finally swung open, Nico stood there, shirtless.
“What in God’s name are you doing here?”he asked.Behind him, his wife, Jane stood on the stairs, holding a wrapper closed at her neck.
“I need a little help.”
“At midnight?”
“How do you feel about stealing a dog?”
