Working with a necromancer is one thing. Lusting after one is something else entirely. He has just a month and a half left in his penance, and anything that distracts him from his faith is dangerous.
The laws of Charain don’t forbid necromancy entirely, and the doctrine of the Radiant Order doesn’t forbid dealings with necromancers. But neither the government nor any of the country’s faiths encourage the practice. There are too many necromancers who’ve progressed dangerously far beyond permitted tasks like questioning murder victims or laying wandering spirits to rest. When Arthur stands trial after his penance, he needs to be able to say with a clean heart, under the truth spell, that all he has done has been righteous. Dallying with darkness won’t look good on his record at all.
Even if darkness is extremely attractive when he smiles.
He’s made that mistake before.
?
CHAPTER FIVE
Shae
Shae barely notices Arthur walking away. He’s too entranced by Duchess’s extremely soft nose, and the way she wiggles her lips under his hand. His heart feels warm in a way that has nothing to do with magic or human presence. He’s just…
Happy. Duchess is the first creature he’s met in ten years who hasn’t flinched at the sight of him. She doesn’t know he’s a necromancer, and she doesn’t care.
He tries out scratching her forehead, the way he saw Arthur doing it, and sure enough, she leans into the touch, big brown eyes blinking slowly. She really doesn’t care who or what he is—as long as he comes with treats, probably. Her coat is so soft, the most beautiful orange-red.Maybe learning to ride wouldn’t be so bad?He peers in the stall at the rest of her.No, she’s still gigantic. Petting is fine.
It’s a while before Arthur returns with a bucket of brushes. Shae isn’t sure what took him so long. Tack must be complicated.
“Do you want help?” Shae asks.
Arthur hands him a wide-toothed comb and opens the stall door. “You can brush her mane out. Don’t walk behind her.”
Shae follows him into the stall, flushing at the nearness of his aura, and glances at Duchess’s massive feet. He definitely wasn’t planning to walk behind her.
Brushing Duchess’s mane proves more difficult than it sounds; her hair is wiry and full of straw from rolling in the stall. Shae’s barely done by the time Arthur grooms the entire rest of her, from picking her hooves to brushing her tail to currying out her coat and saddling her up. He’s probably doing it wrong somehow, but Arthur doesn’t correct him, and for once, it’s hard to worry. It’s soothing, combing out Duchess’s mane while she pats him down for treats, totally uninterested in the silver on his fingers and ears.
And with Arthur so close, he’s almost warm. When he closes his eyes, his wrist still burns sweet from the grasp earlier this morning.
Don’t get too comfortable,he warns himself. Arthur’s horse might be the most miraculous creature Shae’s ever met, but he’s still not sure about Arthur himself. The man’s aura is so warm that Shae craves him with every fiber of his soul. He wants to curl up in his arms and press his forehead against his heartbeat and absorb every bit of light and heat from him.
But this morning, he woke up to the familiar cold spilling into his heart. He woke up alone.
I’ll take what I can get, but I can’t trust him.
***
As they leave town a few hours later, Shae’s shoulders lighten in relief. He needs human contact, but the fear and revulsion are a different kind of cold he can never quite shake. Better to be on the road, walking towards his goal, with just one person by his side. Even if that person’s being paid to be there.
Another month and this will be over. One way or another.
Most of the people he’s paid over the last few months have been quiet travelers. Except for Pavus, who would get drunk and talk to himself in Praian, a language Shae only recognizes the curses from. At first, Shae thinks Arthur will be the same way; they don’t talk for the first hour or so out of town.
Then Arthur calls for a rest beneath a huge, shady tree. “It’s hot out,” he says, letting Duchess munch on a stretch of grass. “You’re going to pass out if we push until noon.”
“Fine.” He doesn’t feel like explaining that he only knows it’s hot by the sweat beading on Arthur’s temple. The gleam against his tanned skin.
“What is it?” Arthur asks, and Shae realizes he’s been staring.
Fuck.He covers with the first question that pops into his head. “How long have you been a paladin?”
Which seems basic enough, but Arthur winces. “Seven years. I joined the order as soon as I could, when I turned eighteen.” He continues lightly, fiddling with Duchess’s mane. “But I’m technically out on penance, now.”
Shae stares again. He never expected to hear that tone of voice from Arthur. The tone he himself has used so often. Casual words covering up hurts he doesn’t want anyone else to see.
He forces himself to look away. He can’t force himself not to ask, “What does that mean?”
