“And a leader who ignores the needs of his people will soon find he has no people left to lead.”
“Is the piece finished yet?”Duke Áine asks during our session later that afternoon. I cannot stomach his impatience.
I have not stopped thinking of Mr. Stafford and his poor family. Refugees from Campan’s Vale who’ve encountered indifference at best and hatred at worst in the capital city of the man attempting to annex their lands.
“One cannot rush perfection,” I say half-heartedly. If the duke has noticed my foul mood, he hasn’t commented on it. Who am I kidding? Of course he hasn’t noticed. “Lift your chin a little higher, please.”
He’s standing in profile before a grand marble fireplace, dressed finely in an aubergine tailcoat embroidered with silver crescent moons. Strapped across his back are a birchwood longbow and a quiver of arrows. He’s worn the weapons to every previous session, but there’s something particularly menacing about them today. I wonder if he intends to use them during the Wild Hunt.Ifthere’s a Wild Hunt.
He pouts, churlish, and I pull my hand away from the canvas before he can ruin my line. “Standing still is not my forte. What is taking so long? Are you distracted today?”
“I witnessed something rather disturbing this morning.” He cocks his head, but does not make any movement to comfort me. I explain what happened with Mr. Stafford, then ask, “What will become of him?”
“You say he stole from one of the shops?”
“I did not witness it myself. But even if he did, surely you are not so cruel as to punish a poor refugee who was trying to feed his family?”
“The evidence must be reviewed, of course. We dole out justice to everyone equally.”
I dig my fingernails into my palms so hard that I nearly draw blood. “Still,” I say softly, demurely, “is there nothing to be done for him or his family? It would please me greatly.”
“Would it? I wonder what else might please you.”
The opening I’ve been waiting for; I leap at the opportunity.
“I … Well, I cannot help but thinking how much better things might be for everyone if there was a king again. Someone who could alleviate this fighting once and for all. If you would share your clue and allow me to …” I trail off at his frown. Drat, may have pushed too hard. I blink, raising a knuckle to my lash line to swipe at false tears. “What I meant, of course, is that it is hard to find my artistry when my heart is so heavy, Your Grace. And your portrait deserves nothing less than my very best effort.”
His lips twitch, as if he’s amused by my request. “We are nearly there, Charlotte.”
I hide a smile behind my hand at the small victory. It’s the first time he’s said my name.
After dinner, I head down to the library and spend several hours searching through back issues of the Sky Gazette, determined to keep my momentum with Duke Áine going.
But I end up learning something much more troubling about Duke Cernunnos. A piece of essential information that has been kept from me. A betrayal.
And I know precisely who will be the target of my ire.
Chapter
Thirty
Later that night, dressed for sleep, I bolt through the shared bathing chamber and bang on Lachlan’s door.
My fist has barely touched wood before it flings open—was he just standing on the other side waiting for me to summon him?
“I knew you’d come to your—” The smug smirk falls from his face when he sees my stormy expression. Of course, he misreads it, starts fussing and cradling my cheeks. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did someone upset you? I’ll fucking?—”
“Youupset me.” I knock his hands away, nearly melting at his care. I shove an issue of the Gazette into his face. “No lies between us, huh? When were you going to tell me about this, then?”
He takes the paper, his eyes scanning the headline, then folds it and places it on a shelf. He has the audacity to look pained. “Desmond and I agreed it would be best if you never found out.”
“Oh, you andDesmonddecided, did you? You didn’t think it pertinent to share that Duke Cernunnosmurderedthe only other woman to make it past the presentation ceremony? You are a damnable hypocrite, Lachlan Cathal! Lies by omission are still lies. And in case you’ve forgotten, my life is at stake!”
“Your life is my primaryconcern.” He rakes a hand through his hair, sighing. “I’m sorry.” When he lifts his gaze, there’s nothing but sincerity in it. “Truly, Charlotte. You deserved to know. I should have told you.”
A man admitting he was wrong? And so easily? What a novelty. I never thought to experience it.
“Then right it.” I cross my arms over my chest and step back to lean against my door. “The Sky Gazette values flavor over facts; not the most reputable of sources. Tell me everything you know.”
