Chapter 8
Roderick Bryson
Roderick was desperate to follow his wandering star, but his half-clothed state slowed him down.
He couldn’t be seen wandering the streets barefoot and shirtless.
He pulled the mage light from the drawer to search for his shirt, finding it crumpled on the floor.
He thrust his arms through the sleeves. As he sat to shove on a pair of riding boots, he noticed a streak of blood and broken glass on the floor.
She’s hurt!
He sprinted down the hall and out into the moonlit city center, dignity left far behind. Now here he was, standing in the middle of the street like a heartbroken buffoon. He regained his breath as the woman careened away, clinging to the back of a carriage like her life depended on it.
She didn’t forget a friend at the masquerade.
Melusine Manor was the opposite direction.
He trudged back to the front door of The Three Hares, recounting the night in his head as he crossed the threshold to the tavern hall.
He’d been graced by a lunar goddess who swept his heart up in a whirlwind of an evening.
The memory of her laughter made him lose all sense.
He swore he could hear her smile. A hollow ache filled his chest. So much for taking a defensive stance with his feelings.
He foolishly revealed the smallest glimpse of himself to her, and in turn, she reeled back as if he were a monster.
“You’re a bit late. Everyone else has gone to bed.
” Octavio’s calm voice came from afar. Three long mahogany tables spanned the hall, and a crackling fire roared in the stone fireplace at the far wall.
The community board was packed with parchment scraps, announcing jobs, galas, even bounties.
Three taxidermy hares hung on the wall over the hearth, each in a different motion of running or jumping.
The knight was sitting alone, closest to the fire, sipping a frothy mug of ale.
“I went to a masquerade at Melusine Manor.” Roderick slumped into the chair across from Octavio.
“Fancy.” The knight took another drink. “So that’s where you snuck off to. How was it?” He licked foam from his upper lip.
“It was incredible. I met the most beautiful woman. She came to my room, but then she—”
Roderick straightened. He couldn’t let Octavio see him get all weepy and weak.
Not when the knight had gone to tremendous lengths to help him get the Rhodias flowers covertly.
It would be a spit in the face of his friend’s efforts if he found out he’d stopped taking them.
He was probably already suspicious. He cleared his throat.
“She left suddenly. I tried to get her name, but she caught a carriage.”
“There’s your mistake.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I know you didn’t ask for my advice, Roderick, but isn’t the point of a masquerade anonymity?” Octavio gave his ale a loud sip.
He froze. Octavio was right. He had gone to the masquerade for a night of untethered revelry, and that was what he got.
He should have expected this. Of course she got spooked when he told her his name.
It made it too real. The anonymity was broken, and that was what events like that were for.
It was nothing personal. He should know that better than anyone.
He was an insensitive, self-absorbed rake, after all.
The voice that sought to tear him down had become a familiar friend in the last two months, freed of its Rhodias chains:
Trash. Even in your most hidden form—even without the shining emblem of nobility or handsome face, you are totally and utterly disposable.
Millicent never wanted you.
Anya despises you.
This woman ran on broken glass to get away from you.
Let her go.
“Roderick? Is everything all right?”
He blinked at Octavio and shook the voice from his mind. “I am fine. I only wished to say a proper goodbye over a drink. But I guess she’ll never know she spent the evening with Valeria’s finest knight.” He shrugged, but the movement was forced.
“Attaboy!” Octavio slapped him on the back. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing! Now, let’s get you a drink!”
As much as he wanted to trudge back to his room, there was nothing good for him in there. He wished he hadn’t ruined all the Rhodias flowers. It was a stupid idea to stop taking them, but it was too late for regrets.
“If you insist,” Roderick replied, scooting his chair closer to the hearth. The fire was just a bit too hot, but it felt good, forcing his senses from the lingering haze of passion back to reality.
“Lady Rowan was here,” Octavio said with a grin.
“Oh?” he replied absentmindedly. He wanted to ask if Anya had been with her, but there was no point.
He already knew the answer. While he did have the slightest worry that she would be here tonight, it was far more likely for the Princess to avoid anywhere he would be. They were playing the same game.
“Before you ask, no, Her Highness wasn’t here.” The knight took a long draw of his ale.
Roderick slipped a peppermint cigar from his pocket. “I did not ask, nor do I care.” He knelt to light it in the roaring hearth, then leaned back in his chair.
“What’ll it be, handsome?” A chipper human barkeep sidled up to their table.
“The largest mug of your cheapest ale,” Roderick said curtly, then puffed on the cigar.
The peppermint leaves were the only way to quiet his mind without the Rhodias.
The only way without raising eyebrows, that is.
If he traipsed into the apothecary here of all places, he could only imagine the chatter that would spread if the wrong person recognized him.
What if the citizens believed him unstable—unfit to wield a sword?
Or worse, assumed the Duke had driven him to such straits?
“She’ll spit in your drink if you keep acting that way,” Octavio quipped. “And sitting there looking like you bit into a sour apple isn’t a great view for me either.”
Roderick blew a ring of smoke toward the knight. Every breath slowly dulled his frayed nerves, albeit temporarily.
Octavio coughed and swatted at the cloud. “If you’re going to do that you could at least offer me one!”
He rolled his eyes and dug into his pocket for another cigar. “Would you like one?”
“No. But manners become you.”
“Here you are.” The barkeep set a frothy mug of ale in front of him, bereft of her earlier giddiness. Roderick threw the end of the cigar into the fire and downed the drink, praying he would find amnesia at the bottom.