“Charming as always,” he said, holding out his elbow for her to take. She did, already knowing the moves to this dance. They had played it out each morning since returning from the Shattered City, less than a week ago.
Less than a week since Fen’s disappearance, since Lord D’Luc wrested the artifact from her and claimed it as his own. Ru’s pain remained so present and acute, Fen’s betrayal lying so heavy on her heart that it could have been only yesterday.
As the pair moved through the front vestibule, Ru frowned. “Not your rooms today?” she asked. Thus far, their breakfasts had been taken in Lord D’Luc’s private quarters.
“I thought we ought to enjoy summer’s last gasps,” he replied, rings flashing as he pushed open the Tower’s great front doors.
“Aren’t the others coming?”
“You mean the Children?” he said. “Not today. I want you to myself.”
Ru bit the inside of her already-raw lip, tasting the tang of blood.
He led them out of the front courtyard through an arch in a hedgerow, along a curving path of flagstones, until they cameto what appeared to be a picnic. A blanket was laid out on the browning grass of Ru’s least favorite courtyard, and the usual array of breakfast foods was arranged pleasingly in a tableau. Ru imagined Inda, Ranto, and Nell — the trio of Children who served as Lord D’Luc’s ever-present servants — unfolding the blanket, laying out all the food, even arranging cushions to sit on. The image would have made her laugh had she been with anyone else.
“It’s a bit cold for a picnic,” she said, her woolen skirts whipping in a stiff breeze.
“The sun will warm you,” he said, in a tone that put an end to the matter. “Sit.”
He held out a hand to help Ru onto an overstuffed cushion. She settled herself fitfully, her nose and fingertips already uncomfortably cold. The bright sun hung low on the horizon, and it was far too late in the year for any warmth to be found in its light.
Lord D’Luc settled himself across from her, seemingly unperturbed by the chill air. Even lounging on a cushion, he managed to appear immaculate.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you balancing precariously on a pillow?” Ru asked.
Hugon’s blue eyes narrowed slightly. “So disagreeable when hungry, Delara. Do eat.”
“Why are we having a picnic?” She reached reluctantly for a jug of coffee.
“I’ve told you.”
It was always like this — a stalemate, a stand-off. Ru poured herself coffee and took a small sip. It was lukewarm. Likely on purpose, to upset her. Everything Lord D’Luc did was to upset her.
Lord D’Luc watched her movements, cat-like.
“Well?” she said, setting down her coffee. “What probing questions do you want to ask me today?”
His lips quirked. “I think I’ll start with a reminder.”
Wind rustled the hedges, the carcasses of dried-up flowers breaking free and billowing outward across the courtyard. Ru shivered. “Of what?”
“Your purpose here. With the artifact.” His lips curled upward as he spoke, his tone mirthless. He reached for a pastry and took a delicate bite.
Ru narrowed her eyes. He was well aware she would never forget what he expected of her. “When you lie to me,” she said, “You say you want me to bring about a scientific revolution. Isn’t that right? Thinking somehow that if you push me to breaking, the artifact will reveal itself to you. And then you’ll be at the forefront of some intellectual movement in Navenie. But when you’re being honest…” She paused, waiting for an admonition, but he only watched her thoughtfully.
“When I’m being honest, Delara?” The question was soft.
“A cleansing fire. A new Destruction. All in the name of some ancient god who doesn’t exist.Festra. Do you really believe—”
He lifted a finger ever so slightly, cutting her off. “What I believe is irrelevant. These are the facts. You will use the artifact to bring about a great scientific breakthrough. A cleansing, just as Taryel Aharis once did at the Shattered City. As you did not long ago, an echo of his ancient deed. And I will continue to lead you in this direction, no matter how you rail against me. Fate has spoken for you.” He studied her with sharp eyes, as though trying to see past her walls. “Why not accept that Festra’s will cannot be ignored any longer? That this artifact was shown to you, and you accepted it. That you weremadeto burn the world and bring about its rebirth. The circumstances lay it out so clearly.”
“Festra is a character from myth,” she said. Frustrated, wanting distraction, she popped a blackberry into her mouth and bit down. It was overripe and too soft and tasted of earth. “I wasn’tmadefor anything.”
Lord D’Luc made a noncommittal humming sound.
She crossed her arms, hugging herself against the cold.I decide my own purpose, she wanted to say. But even that seemed to be a dream long abandoned since the artifact would not free her from its grasp. Even now, she could feel it in her mind, a distant hum, a whispering echo of its true nature. It was a constant reminder of Fen’s betrayal — it was his heart, after all. And Ru was connected to it, unable to escape it, though lately, the artifact’s voice had been quieter. As if it were sleeping.
It was enough to ruin anyone’s appetite. Surveying the spread of food, Ru found she was no longer hungry.
