Chapter 10
With a spring in his step, Drexley rushed out of his bedchamber to have his morning meal.
Although the skeletons did a good job of recreating the recipes designed by the housekeeper Adney had given his fortune and home to, it wasn’t the food driving Drexley.
It was the other sentinel in Adney’s castle.
But Drexley assured himself it wasn’t because of Ducarius’s handsome face or the fine form in his drab gray uniform.
They had discussed books until past the time Drexley usually retired for the night, and Ducarius had left the library with a tome he planned to read.
Since so few hours had passed, Drexley doubted Ducarius had enjoyed any of it yet, but Drexley was already looking forward to learning how the other sentinel would react to the storyline and its characters.
To Drexley’s delight, he found Ducarius already seated as he rushed into the dining hall.
Adney was also present, but there were deep creases on his face that spoke of his exhaustion.
Each day it seemed as if the ancient necromancer required additional rest. Unfortunately, Adney was a stubborn man who refused to give in to the demands of his body until he had no choice and nearly collapsed.
It was maddening. Drexley did not want Adney to suffer, and he feared that the necromancer’s desire to push his boundaries was hastening his inevitable demise.
And nothing filled Drexley with more terror than the thought of what his life would become when Adney’s castle no longer existed.
Even as much as Drexley was enjoying being around Ducarius, it was obvious sentinels hadn’t evolved.
Despite his people having gained their freedom, Ducarius remained garbed in unrelieved gray, kept his weapons with him no matter his destination, and trained several times a day.
Drexley would never fit in among his own kind, and he did not want to be around them.
The last thing Drexley desired was losing the progress he’d gained thanks to Adney’s tutelage.
Adney had offered him everything, and Drexley could not mar his memory by reverting to the blade-toting barbarian his creation spell had demanded.
With a heavy sigh, Drexley took his seat and forced a smile.
The future would arrive whether he wanted it to or not.
However, he did not have to dwell on it.
Drexley was resourceful, and he would survive.
Or at least he hoped he would. But in the meantime, he needed to stay in the present. To enjoy every last moment with Adney.
Drexley was also honest enough with himself to admit he wanted to get to know Ducarius. Adney was suddenly dismissive of Fate, but that wasn’t what he’d taught Drexley in the past five centuries. The goddess had brought Ducarius to Adney’s realm. Surely Fate had a purpose for him.
Drexley would have assumed that he’d have zero interest in a primitive sentinel, but Ducarius fascinated him.
Drexley had read enough to know the basics of attraction, and he’d already experimented with touching himself.
Last night, he’d fallen asleep with a wide grin on his face thanks to the climax he’d reached with Ducarius’s laugh filtering through his brain.
His cheeks going warm, Drexley offered tentative smiles to the other occupants of the room as he sat and waited for a skeleton to place his meal in front of him.
“Good morning,” Ducarius offered.
“There is nothing good about this morning,” Adney muttered. “These damn skeletons burned my food. I wish I had devised a way to bottle my magic while it was still plentiful so I would not be forced to suffer now as I approach my end. Fate is a cruel goddess.”
With Adney’s power diminishing, the skeletons he resurrected were around for shorter durations.
It left them with little opportunity to learn their chores.
The quality of the food and the cleanliness of the castle had suffered, but Drexley did not mind.
They were doing their best, and it was not their fault.
“I have told you I am willing to take on more of the castle chores,” Drexley replied.
“I did not work hard to have you evolve past the primitive pursuits of your brethren to replace other mindless resurrected fools in the kitchens,” Adney groused.
“I find nothing primitive about putting together a meal or vacuuming a rug,” Ducarius stated.
“You have a comment for everything,” Adney retorted sourly. “That imposter Alaric should have focused on teaching sentinels manners and to learn their place.”
“I do not understand the second part of your comment,” Drexley ventured. “What is a vacuuming?”
Ducarius offered him a soft smile. “A vacuum is a device that uses suction to remove particles of dust and dirt from the floor and furniture. It requires electricity to operate. That is another wonderful invention and has offered many advancements. Far too many for me to list for you now.”
“Do not worry, Drexley. When I am dead, you will see for yourself which inventions are real and what Ducarius is making up to impress you,” Adney said.
Drexley glanced at Ducarius just in time to watch the sentinel give an exaggerated eyeroll.
Despite their brief acquaintance, it was growing clear to Drexley that Adney and Ducarius were determined to find no common ground.
Whose fault that was and how to fix it were mysteries to Drexley, but he worried.
Adney was unwell, and the last thing he needed was stress.
However, he could choose not to engage in conversation with Ducarius if he did not want to suffer through his opinions.
After all, it was not Ducarius’s fault he had stumbled upon Adney’s realm, nor could he leave.
Something told Drexley that pointing that out would irritate Adney further, so he kept his opinion to himself.
“The last thing I want is for you to die,” Drexley commented. “Although I know it is inevitable, if I could reverse it, I would.”
“Hold fast to everything you have learned,” Adney warned, his gray gaze locked on Drexley’s face.
“Remember how the many sorcerers you have read about have solved their problems. By using their examples, you can survive and flourish. That is the best advice I can offer you. My demise will happen far sooner than either of us would like. I cannot hide the truth from you. But as long as you recall what you have learned, you will find some path of success, Drexley.”
“You have taught me well,” Drexley agreed, his earlier enthusiasm for discussing books with Ducarius long gone as he was confronted, yet again, by the future spiraling closer with each passing day.
∞∞∞
Frustration was becoming far too familiar to Ducarius.
He’d barely slept. Instead of resting, he’d opened the book Drexley had encouraged him to try and had been sucked into the story.
The moment he’d woken up, Ducarius had rushed to the dining hall to find a sullen Adney.
After barely a muttered greeting, the necromancer had spent the meal up until Drexley’s arrival bitching about or at the skeletons.
It made Ducarius wonder what the hell Drexley liked about the cantankerous, pompous old man. And Ducarius had hated the way Adney had extinguished Drexley’s light. The other sentinel had arrived at breakfast with joy in his pretty eyes.
Ducarius sympathized with the grief and fear both men were feeling. The situation was sad. But Adney’s insistence that his teachings were the sole reason Drexley had any hope for the future pissed Ducarius off.
Ducarius hadn’t helped the situation by arguing with Adney, but the man was infuriating. When he’d spouted the nonsense about himself and Drexley being above certain chores, Ducarius had spoken without thought to Adney’s feeling on the subject.
At the Daray condo, Victor ruled the household.
The cat shifter wasn’t beneath anyone in their condo.
In fact, if Victor gave an order, Ducarius and every other Daray jumped to attention to follow it.
The last thing Ducarius wanted to do was rile the man or face his wrath if he left behind a mess.
It didn’t matter that there were Fate-chosen leaders in the condo; at home, Victor was the boss.
What would Adney think if he saw the Arch Lich picking up his own books or taking his plate to the dishwasher and stacking it in the way Victor had taught them?
Ducarius nearly snickered at the horror he imagined he’d find on Adney’s face.
Chander was a person who respected others and put himself above no one.
It was one of the many honorable aspects of his personality.
Determined not to be a pest in Adney’s household so he wouldn’t annoy Drexley, Ducarius kept silent as Adney muttered more complaints.
The necromancer ate every bite of food on his plate despite his assertion that it was hopelessly burned.
Ducarius disagreed and found the meal fine.
It was not up to the fare of Victor or the other culinary geniuses Ducarius knew, but how could it be? People like Victor were rare gifts.
Somehow, Drexley remained unphased by the grumpy necromancer and convinced Adney to go to his room to rest. One thing Ducarius was learning about Drexley was that the sentinel appeared to have infinite patience.
It would be a skill Drexley would need in the future to survive Baxter’s terrible jokes.
Once Adney had hobbled out in a huff, Drexley turned to Ducarius and smiled. Ducarius grinned immediately. His mate was a handsome man, and Ducarius preferred when there was happiness on his face.
“I hope you are not getting the wrong impression of Adney. He is a wise and kind man, but his growing limitations are frustrating him,” Drexley said. “Did you sleep well?”
“No, and I blame you.”
Drexley blinked. “Me?”
Although it was tempting to comment on the quick jerkoff session Ducarius had required after being with Drexley, neither of them were ready for a conversation about sex yet. “Yes, you sent me off to bed with a book. I made the mistake of opening it and lost many hours of rest.”
With his grin back in place, Drexley leaned forward and set his fork down. “You are enjoying it?”
“It is a wonderful tale. I plan to read further as soon as I train.”
“Is that necessary?”
“Yes, it is necessary. How else will I know how the story ends?”
“No, that is not what I meant. You are here, and there are no threats around. Why do you need to train?”
“I do not think of it as a necessity,” Ducarius replied.
“It is something I do because I enjoy it. The exercise also allows me to clear my head. I can often release my frustration, fear, or other emotions plaguing me by pushing myself physically. It is also fun to pit myself against my family or friends. Finding new ways to attack keeps my mind fresh.”
“You truly enjoy it?”
“Absolutely. Do you recall the last time you trained?” Ducarius asked, wondering how much of Drexley’s early memories of the realm existed. Was Drexley aware that his mind was being manipulated, or had he consented to Adney’s draining spell?
“No,” Drexley replied.
“How do you feel about that?”
Drexley cocked his head. “I find that a strange question. Why would I have feelings about something I cannot recall?”
“How much about the compound do you remember?”
“You are answering a question with a question.”
“I know,” Ducarius drawled. Whether Drexley was aware of it or not, he was acting like every other sentinel with his need to point out the truth. “We met a few days ago, and I am eager to learn more about you. How can I know something if I do not ask?”
“Yes, but you know I have no wish to train and have left it behind because it is barbaric and ungentlemanly. So, why would I want to recall the last time I engaged in the practice?”
“I would assume nothing of you, Drexley.”
“You are confusing me.”
“Frankly, I am confusing myself right now.”
“Does every sentinel still train?” Drexley asked.
Ducarius nodded. “Yes. We even teach other races to use weapons. It is also part of the curriculum of the fallen knights, though it is not added into any of their scores. Their superiors want them to have every advantage without feeling pressured to match the skill of anyone else since sentinels are innately better at it.”
“It has spread beyond the sentinels?” Drexley asked incredulously.
“We teach it; nothing is spreading like a sickness.”
“Does every sentinel wear an ugly gray uniform like you?”
Outraged that anyone would consider his clothes ugly—especially a fellow sentinel—Ducarius scowled.
“Some of us occasionally opt to dress in other things, but we predominantly wear gray. We do not consider it ugly. Our formal uniforms were designed by a renowned tailor, and we were lucky to have her expertise and skill.”
“I did not mean to offend you.”
“It was rude to call me ugly.”
“I did not call you ugly,” Drexley refuted. “I said that your uniform is not pleasing to the eye. To be honest, I find you pleasant to look at.”
“You are extremely handsome, and I think Fate has been far too kind to me to give me a mate with such an attractive face. I assume your body is nice too, but it is disguised by your heavy robes.”
Delighted with the way Drexley’s cheeks reddened, Ducarius grinned.
“I like that your uniform allows me to see the muscles of your upper half. Your pants are much like my robes and too roomy.”
Ducarius would have made another comment to hopefully please Drexley, but his senses told him a necromancer was nearby.
Adney stepped into the dining room with a mutinous expression. “I hate to interrupt this inappropriate conversation, but I require your aid, Drexley.”
“Let me help you,” Drexley said, springing out of his chair.
Fully prepared to growl with fury at Adney’s assertion that he had any right to voice an opinion about a chat between two mates, Ducarius’s attention was caught by Drexley, who mouthed a question.
“Library later?” Drexley asked soundlessly.
With a nod, Ducarius assured Drexley he would meet him in the library.
Ducarius was eager to be with Drexley, so he gathered his dishes and brought them to the poor skeletons trying to do their best in the kitchen.
Then he raced outside to squeeze in some training before he was reunited with his other half.