A distant flare of hope rose in Ru. “Then why?” She wanted to add.Because you didn’t want to hurt me? Because you’re merciful, and there’s a remnant of humanity still left in you?But she couldn’t push him too hard or he’d shut down.
Hugon sighed impatiently, and Ru saw his facade hardening again, the curtain beginning to fall. “You may ask as manyquestions as you like,” he said, “but you’ll never get the answer you’re looking for.”
A horrible lump rose in Ru’s throat. She’d been so close. Sheknewthere was more to him, things he wasn’t telling her. Pain he was suffering on his own. “Hugon,” she said, growing almost desperate, “isn’t there anything…anythingyou want to tell me?”
He met her gaze, and as they studied one another, Ru watched the mask slide fully into place, his expression utterly closed off to her. “You are useless,” he said.
She froze, and a tickle of rage threatened to spark into a flame. “Excuse me?”
“I said, you’re useless. A fool. If it weren’t for me, lifting you up from the dregs of academia, you’d still be a laughingstock in the scientific community. Or perhaps even worse than that — a nobody. Utterly irrelevant. The only thing that sets you apart, theonlyreason anyone gives one whit about you, is the artifact. Is Taryel, and Festra’s name.”
Ru opened her mouth to retort, but Hugon wasn’t finished.
“What are you, Delara?” he said, taking a step toward her. “If you can’t even wield Taryel’s heart, after it was handed to you on what amounts to a silver platter, what are you? A merchant’s daughter. An unaccomplished, inconsequential, homely, bad-mannered girl.”
He was wrong. Ruknewhe was wrong. But the barbed arrow of his words had struck true. Whowasshe without the artifact? A failure. An archaeologist who studied pottery, and those were a dime a dozen at the Tower.
“What,” said Hugon, stepping toward her again, “struck dumb by the truth?”
She backed away instinctively. “No, I—”
“Do you really think that your life matters beyond these walls, Delara?” he went on, still advancing. “All these fawning courtiers… they believe it’s a game. You are but a triflingentertainment to them. The only reason you matter is because I give you purpose. The artifact gives you purpose. Festra gives you purpose.”
Ru continued to back away, stumbling, all of her bluster and all of her rage replaced by a sudden despair, seemingly amplified by the low ceiling, the small cavern, thedrip, dripof water on stone.
“Well?” Hugon demanded, looming over her, crowding her until her back was pressed to the wet wall. “What are you without me, Delara?”
She swallowed hard.I’m me, she thought.I don’t need you. But after all her work with the artifact, her nerves were frayed to the limit. Her head was pounding in agony. She could hardly breathe through the caked-up blood in her nose. And Hugon had resisted her attempts to see past his walls, had pushed back, and now had her fully in his grasp. All she wanted was to get out, to go back to her rooms, to sleep, and never wake.
“I’m nothing,” she breathed, her voice small.
“That’s right,” Lord D’Luc said, smiling. “You are nothing and no one. Now get out of my sight.”
Ru was curledon the sofa by the fire, staring out at nothing, when Taryel knocked. She knew it was him by the flutter in her chest, the artifact’s now delicate touch. It took her a moment to gather herself, to pull her thoughts away from the dreary forests they’d been wandering in. It took her so long that when she finally opened the door, Taryel’s expression was all concern.
“Good lord,” he said, touching her face gingerly. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
Ru started, remembering. “Oh,” she said. “My… sorry, I forgot to wash. Just a bloody nose.”
Taryel took her chin in a gentle hand, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. His eyes were glittering dark. “What did he do to you?”
She swallowed. “A demonstration. It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine. But I’m fine. It was just… worse than usual.”
Without another word, Taryel went into the other room. When he returned, he guided Ru back to the sofa and held a warm, wet cloth to her face, cleaning up the dried blood. When he was finished, he pulled her into his arms, cradling her as she buried her face in the soft part of his chest, just below the shoulder.
At last, she let herself cry. She let out wet, wracking sobs, clutching Taryel like a lifeboat in a storm. He kissed her head, murmuring sweet words and stroking her hair. And when she was finished, dried her eyes, and sat up again, blinking and sniffling, he didn’t push her. Didn’t ask what had happened, didn’t demand explanation. He only waited.
“Taryel,” she said, her voice breaking on the name, as if she’d been desperate to call for him and hadn’t. “You must have heard what happened. At Simon’s party. And I thought… I tried to see Hugon D’Luc as a prisoner like me, hoping he might have some shred of decency left, an explanation for why he does what he does, but he…” she sniffled loudly.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Taryel said, pulling her close. “I know. Simon told me. He also told me about the deal you made — no, don’t worry, I’m not going to scold you. You’re brave, Ru. Braver than most. Not many people would tell such a bald-faced lie in front of all those people.”
Ru laughed, which came out as a muffled choke. “I don’t know why he agreed to it. He’s frightened; I can see it in his eyes. I think he’s been going easy on me. But Lady Bellenet found out,and… well, someone’s been hurting him.” She rubbed her own wrist where she’d seen Hugon’s bruise. “He’s terrified. All the time.”
“I’m sure there is some shred of mercy left in him,” Taryel said, “buried deep. Unsalvageable at this point. It’s not worth trying to get him to turn on Lady Bellenet if that’s what you want. He’ll never budge. He’s obsessed with her.”
Ru sighed, a long and mournful exhalation. Then a thought came to her, as obvious as a sunrise, and yet somehow, it had never occurred to her before. “Taryel,” she said, sitting back. “How does your power work?”
He shrugged. “You’re the scientist.”
