My mouth hangs open, my voice caught in my throat.
“He could be banished for this. Or even killed. Henri had him hauled away. He’s been locked in the servants’ quarters until Henri decides—” His eyes roam my face as if he’s hoping for an answer. Or even some direction on what to do next. Neither are things I can offer him. I’m as confused and shocked as he is.
There’s a pause, and then he adds, “I cannot believe he did this.”
Avrum’s grip falls off me.
“He didn’t tell you anything about his plans?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “There was no discussion of it. It took me by complete surprise. By the time I realized it, Cornelius’s head was rolling onto the ground. It was too late to stop it.”
I wince at the image of a bloody head detached from a body. I never knew there was a true way to kill these creatures, but it looks like there is.
“A-Are you sure he was dead?” I ask, and rub my own neck, glad my head and body are still intact.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“What happens now?” I hate to admit it, but I am terrified. Truly and utterly terrified.
Avrum rubs his forehead and draws in a deep breath. After a long moment, he says, “You will go to your room, and I will send for a guard to be placed in front of your door. Anyone who wants entrance will have to come ask me. And if Henri calls for you, I must be informed. I will hide you here again if so.” He glances over his shoulder at the attic door. “I have to get to Lysander.”
Pointing at the sword on the trunk, his jaw sets. “Keep that on you, always.”
“I will.”
With his arm snaking around my middle, he pulls me in close and kisses me. Hard. All I want to do is melt into his embrace and allow myself to let go of my fears.
When he pulls away, he peers down at me with concern in his weighted gaze. He grabs my hand and interlaces our fingers.
I wait for him to say something more, but he doesn’t. Only holds on tight.
He’s as scared as I am, but we both need to be strong to survive this. I am willing to risk everything for a taste of freedom and so is he, so, hands still linked, we leave the attic together and descend the stairs.
Henri
From the tall windows of the library, I watch the fire of Cornelius’s funeral pyre flicker and extinguish. That’s it. The man he was is gone, and this time there’s no second chance.
Ashes to ashes.
The phrase brings Malcolm back to my thoughts. Sighing, I massage the throbbing place above my brows. Some men still linger on the grounds to pay their respects to Cornelius and watch the black smoke rise. Keagan is among them, standing like a shadow among the trees.
I try to stay focused on the scene below, but my vision blurs and I grind my teeth. I don’t have time for the idiocy of men. One’s dead, the other is locked underground, and for what? A childish game of swords? Now I am two men down, and I have distinguished guests expected soon.
Although Lysander and I share a thread of a past, it does not give him permission to disobey rules and take advantage of my generosity. Especially with the party and Malcolm so close…
An interesting thought comes to me. Had Cornelius’s death been done to make me look like a fool in front of our maker? Is Lysander planning something devious against me to make his own statement to Malcolm?
Moving away from the window, my mind whirls with poisonous schemes. What a shame. Lysander has been the highest of my guard and the most talented with a sword. His return to the manor had proved to be quite useful. However, his indiscretions can’t be ignored. The last thing I will allow myself to be is mocked, and that means all this has to be dealt with before Malcolm and the others arrive. I have to be seen at my best, and Lysander’s mishap can be taken as a weakness in my leadership.
How am I going to deal with this?
I roll my shoulders to ease the tense muscles in my neck. Even though Lysander’s death would be the fairest punishment, he’s too valuable a man to kill.
It is possible that I can use Lysander as a sort of example. His mistake, and then redemption, can be used as a model of my mercy and compassion, the very things Malcolm knows nothing of.
Sparing Lysander’s life won’t appear like justice in Keagan’s eyes, but it will be done with purpose.
Besides, I’ve taken countless poor and unfortunately souls into my care. Redeemed them. Gave them a better life full of riches and esteem. Malcolm will come and see all the good I’ve done and know instantly that he made a mistake trying to damn me. I took his eternal curse and turned it into something exquisite; his plans failed with me.
