Chapter 18 #4
For a moment, I could only look at the table, at the dark stains beneath my hands—anywhere but at Thanor.
I hadn’t expected acknowledgement. Certainly not approval.
Not from him. A thin, reluctant respect rose despite myself.
I shifted my gaze enough to meet his and wondered, not for the first time, how dangerous it was to be seen by a man like him. And understood.
Vibius hummed, then looked at me down the length of his nose.
“Then the imbalance lies with you. If Vayren feels the tether forming, you should allow yourself to open to it as well. Resistance only delays stabilization.” He frowned at me. “Work harder at it.”
The fine hairs along my neck rose as anger flared. Resistance only delays stabilization. If he understood what I was resisting, what opening myself to Thanor would truly mean, he wouldn’t have said it so easily.
I kept my face smooth and forced the words past my teeth. “I will.”
He nodded and returned his attention to the ledger, the matter apparently settled. I didn’t wait to be dismissed. I pushed myself from the table and crossed the room without another word, the scent of iron and herbs clinging to me. As I passed Thanor, our eyes met.
His amusement was unmistakable. He knew exactly what it would cost me to open myself to the tether. There was no restraint in his expression, no effort to hide the satisfaction there, only a certainty that whatever resistance I still clung to would be tested soon enough.
I left the courtyard, irritation still clinging, as hunger stirred, reminding me how little I’d eaten that morning. I crossed the Grand Hall without thinking, my steps carrying me forward until Marcus stepped into my path.
“Valentina. Just the Bondward I was looking for. Come with me.”
He didn’t stop me so much as redirect me, his hand closing around my arm, guiding rather than restraining.
He led me into a smaller sitting chamber set back from the hall, the door closing behind us.
The room was modest, meant for use rather than display, its simplicity a harsh contrast to the grandeur outside.
“Sit.”
I did, a subtle tension settling as I waited. He poured me a cup of wine without asking and placed it in my hands. As I took it, my brows furrowed. I stared into the liquid, wondering if it was wise to drink it. Lunara wouldn’t test me a third time, surely?
I swallowed. Perhaps I was overreacting. But maybe not. My life had already been threatened twice today.
“Thank you,” I said.
He lifted his own cup, his gaze resting on me—assessing, but not unkind. As he took a measured sip, his tone shifted.
“How are you faring?”
The question landed more gently than Vibius’s had, but it carried weight all the same.
“I’m doing well. Considering everything.”
It was close enough to the truth. I took a small sip of the wine, testing it and letting the warmth settle.
Instinct warned me against mentioning the man in the market square, or the other attempts on my life today.
If I told him, I knew he wouldn’t reassign me to another warrior.
He’d just assign guards to me or keep a closer watch.
That was the last thing I needed when I made my escape.
So I chose something safer. Something that was still true.
“I find myself… on edge. It feels as though I have to stay alert at all times.”
He studied me over the rim of his cup, thoughtful. “I would hope that you might feel able to lower your guard a little when you’re with me. At least in here.”
Could I? I didn’t dare.
“I’ll try,” I said, lowering my cup and meeting his eyes. The next question rose before I could stop it. “How is Elion doing?”
“He is improving. Slowly, but steadily. Each day he fares better than the last.” A measured breath left him before he continued.
“And that is precisely why I wanted a moment alone with you. The Praetor came to see me. He all but ordered me to grant you access to Elion. Despite the fact that I had already told you—clearly—that you would be permitted to see him in time, and outside the normal rules of the Ludaryn.”
Something shifted behind his eyes. Not anger. Something quieter. Disappointment.
“You went over my head. I understand why you want to see your uncle. I would never fault you for that… But I am disappointed that you chose manipulation instead of trusting my word.”
“I’m sorry. I tried to ask you. You kept dismissing me. I couldn’t wait any longer.”
He studied me in silence, weighing something I couldn’t see.
Then he closed his eyes and sighed, the gesture carrying the weight of a decision already made.
“I understand,” he said as he set his cup aside and leaned back.
“I am going to my villa tonight,” he continued.
“And you will accompany me. Elion has been conscious for a few days now.”
The words took a moment to sink in, to truly reach me. Relief surged too quickly to contain, blurring my vision before I could stop it.
He smiled then—faint, but genuine.
“You may see him.”