Tightrope
Chapter eight
Finn’s energy was waning. Maintaining the barrier on his Gift while carrying the burden of what was to come had started to wear on him. Dinner would begin soon, and the entire royal family would be present, along with the Morrowes. Which meant he’d be under the watchful eye of his father.
He sank onto the edge of his crisply made bed and hung his head in his hands.
Lucianna had been . . . unexpected. At first, he thought he understood who he was dealing with.
She was elegance personified, not a hair out of place.
But then she snapped. A huff of disbelief escaped Finn’s lips.
Now that was entertaining. He preferred her ire to that proper persona she donned on arrival.
And yet he’d been simultaneously disappointed that she was in opposition to him so soon.
She was afraid, Finn thought. But not in the cowering, simpering sort of way that he expected. No, it seemed that Lady Lucianna Morrowe was a caged lioness. Pacing and biding her time until someone got close enough for her to bite. Finn had pressed upon a nerve, and it caused her to lash out.
He lifted his head and surveyed his sanctuary with glazed vision, desiring to clear his mind.
Finn’s days were spent amongst generals and advisors, his evenings persuading nobility in opulent ballrooms. All of it was a circus.
He pretended to be the ringmaster, but in reality, he was walking a tightrope.
His chambers were the one place none of that was allowed.
It was his haven, and as such, he kept it calm and absent of frills.
The bed was made of polished gray wood and covered in comfortable brown and pale blue blankets. His desk was clean and organized with no paper weights or stray pieces of parchment.
The only ornamentation in the entire space was a series of papers pinned above his desk.
All of which were sketches, though not his own.
There was one that Castien had given him when they were boys, close to ten years of age.
It was a drawing of a fox head. Then there was a sketch of an iris done by his younger sister, Marina.
Lastly, a diagram for a levy system. Perci, Finn’s friend who was killed some three years prior, had been a Gifted engineer.
He was always sketching his plans. Finn stole this one from Perci’s room when they were packing up his belongings.
His throat tightened at the sight of it.
He wondered when he would stop reacting in such a manner. Perhaps he always would.
A knock sounded at his door. He sprang to his feet and went to answer it.
Awaiting him in an emerald staff uniform was his personal butler, Bernadair.
The man had been with him since Finn was a boy, and had even traveled with him to the Whispering Isle while Finn attended the academy there.
Bernadair was a quiet fellow, but not gruff.
He knew Finn well and was able to anticipate his needs in a much appreciated way.
“Dinner is ready to be served, Lord Finnick. Your father has sent word that you are to escort Lady Lucianna.”
Finn gripped the doorframe. He’d hoped to have a few more minutes alone to compose himself. But there seemed to never be enough time for anything in recent years. He wished he could slow it down somehow.
“Where is she staying?” Finn asked.
Bernadair gestured to the door next to Finn’s with a white gloved hand.
Finn dropped his chin to his chest. Of course Father gave her the neighboring suite.
She was to be his wife in a matter of hours.
Tonight, they would dine as a family. Tomorrow, they would wed.
Duke Morrowe required that Lucianna and Finn be married before she was to embark upon the journey to Grimhaven. That meant they had to be fast.
“And her brother?”
Bernadair folded his hands behind his back.
“The west hall, my lord.”
On the other side of the castle. Unless her brother came soon, Finn and Lucianna would be walking to dinner alone.
“Right,” Finn grit out. “Well, I suppose there is nothing to do but what is expected of me.”
“So it would seem, my lord.”
Finn gave his butler a wry smile.
“Unless, of course, you have any other suggestions?”
“You could run away from all of your responsibilities. I would stay here, so as to remain employed. And your entire family would also be here, but—”
Finn lifted a hand and rolled his eyes.
“You’re not as funny as you think you are.”
“No, I suspect I’m even more comical,” he replied, dry as parchment.
Finn chuckled. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to chaperone us on our way to the dining hall?”
Bernadair shook his head.
“I doubt that is what your father had in mind when he gave the direction he did.”
And though Bernadair was Finn’s butler, Commander Artavius ranked higher and would always have the final say. Finn wondered if that would be the case even after he took his place. Or if he’d be allowed to pursue his own wants and desires one day.
“Very well. I shall escort the lady. If she lets me.”
Bernadair raised a brow but said nothing more.
Finn glanced behind him, noted the door that connected the two suites from the inside.
When he was old enough to leave the castle nursery and the care of the nanny, he had been moved into where he now resided.
Always with the expectation that the neighboring chamber would be occupied one day.
Tonight, he would lay his head down knowing that only a wall separated him from his future wife. Perhaps that would excite other men, but it only heightened Finn’s nerves.
So he did what he knew would distract him: he chose the path of most mischief. After nodding to his butler, he closed the outer door to his chambers and approached the inner one that connected to Lucianna’s room.
The gold signet ring on his right hand glinted in the light as he knocked on it.
A moment later, she appeared. Her hair had been pinned up in the hours since they last saw each other, though a few of the dark ringlets hung around her face.
She also changed her gown. This one was made of a silky material in an emerald shade that shimmered in the light of the nearby sconce.
It hugged the dip of her waist in a way Finn could not ignore.
The same gold locket from earlier was still around her neck, as was the scowl he had seen when they parted.
But there was one additional accessory that made Finn chuckle.
“Paranoid, Lady Morrowe?” he asked, eying the gold-hilted dagger in her right hand.
“I did not expect the adjoining room to be occupied,” she replied tightly.
He hummed. “Neither did I.”
The expression she wore said she didn’t believe him. Finn suspected she would look at him that way for quite some time. She did not seem to trust easily, which he could not fault her for. He did not either.
“Is there a reason you knocked on the door to an empty room?” she asked, and he smirked.
“My father sent word I was to escort you. When I inquired of your whereabouts . . .” He gestured to the doorframe.
She sighed. “Very well. Give me a moment.”
The door shut in his face. He glanced down at the knob.
There was no lock, on either side. Something that had not bothered him until that moment.
A thief who could wield a dagger and steal a person’s voice now had unlimited access to his most safe haven.
He tapped the side of his leg to keep from dragging his hand through his hair. His father might notice.
After a brief wait, Lucianna appeared in the doorway again.
She looked the same as before, minus the dagger.
Though he doubted she left it behind. It was likely hidden somewhere on her person, which Finn forced himself not to think about.
He stepped back and welcomed her into his chambers.
Finn would have preferred for her to not have seen them, but he couldn’t very well suggest they walk through her room.
She’d think worse of him than she already did.
Lucianna moved at a casual, graceful pace. Not too fast to exhibit discomfort. Not too slow that she seemed curious. Finn couldn’t tell what she thought of the space. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
He opened the outer door, and she passed over the threshold without a word. She turned right and started down the hall.
Finn cleared his throat.
“The dining hall is best reached from this direction,” he said, not disguising the amusement in his voice.
Lucianna stopped and slowly turned around. She made her way back toward him.
“Also, if either of our fathers sees us walking separately, I imagine they will be cross,” he added, lifting his arm.
Lucianna eyed the appendage as if it were a cryptura—a class of feral creatures that lurked in the forests of the Seven Havens.
“Come now, don’t tell me you’re afraid, little thief,” he teased.
Her pretty eyes sparked with anger.
“Of you?” she scoffed. “You are hardly a threat.”
Lucianna took his arm. The brush of her fingertips sent tingles throughout his body. She was barely touching him, but still her proximity affected him rather unexpectedly.
“If you’re not afraid, then why is your touch so light?” he murmured as he led them in the correct direction.
Sconces lit the hall and bathed them in a mix of fire and shadow. The windows to their right were dark, the only thing visible being their own distorted reflection.
“I am not frightened, merely repulsed,” she replied.
Finn couldn’t help but laugh. Rarely was he faced with revulsion.
Even his enemies weren’t immune to being enamored.
Perhaps he wasn’t in his right mind, for he enjoyed her low opinion of him.
He hoped to change it, but it was refreshing to have someone despise him so thoroughly.
Especially since there was no real reason for it other than her being stuck with him.
Finn glanced down and wondered how she would fare when faced with the full force of his Gift. He tamped down the urge to find out.
They turned down the corridor that led to where celebratory meals were taken. There was a smaller, more intimate, breakfast room where the family more often spent their time. But tonight was meant to be an event, so it was to be expected that it would take place in the formal dining hall.
“Is it so unbelievable that I am not fooled by your charm?” Lucianna asked, misinterpreting Finn’s laughter. “Perhaps you can trick other women, but I will not be so easily deceived.”
Finn sobered. There it was. The truth of her disdain toward him.
His heart sank. It was easier to stomach her attitude when he thought it had to do more with their circumstances than him.
He wasn’t sure he could carry the burden of her fear of his Gift, not when it mirrored the same anxiety he’d spent most of his life battling.
They reached the dining hall. Finn could scarcely recall how they got there. Two guards framed the doors, awaiting a signal. He stared straight ahead and gathered the courage to say what he needed to in that moment. There was only one way to ensure that Lucianna never felt manipulated by him.
“Do not worry, Lady Lucianna. I only deceive those who have something I want. And you”—he met her gaze—“possess nothing I desire.”
Her head pulled back a little, the only indication that his words had struck a chord. Finn turned back ahead and nodded to the guards. The doors opened to a cacophony of warm laughter and clinking glasses.
Finn stretched a smile across his face, then stepped onto the tightrope.