Chapter Thirty-six
BEN
It turned out we all needed at least two drinks.
Rhodri dragged his chair round from behind his desk, and the three of us sat in front of the fire as Dominic told us what Mortimer had said about setting up a council to lead the dragons.
“He thinks we’ll fracture once he’s no longer here to lead us,” he said.
It had never occurred to me to wonder what might happen once Abimelech Mortimer was gone. From the way Rhodri was tilting his glass, watching the firelight through the whisky, he was just as worried about the families descending once more into war as I suddenly felt.
“I don’t even know who his heir is,” I realised. “That’s probably part of the problem, that he’s been the sole leader for so long.”
And my God, the parallels blinded me with their obviousness.
“How can you expect dragons to trust someone who’s never been allowed to deputise? How are they supposed to know how to lead when they’re thrust into it all at once, rather than learning from the previous head?”
Rhodri was currently getting an extremely hard stare from me, just in case he hadn’t heard what I was saying.
Dominic, it appeared, had missed my point entirely. “Maybe he’s not up to the job. Or maybe Mortimer just thinks he isn’t,” he said. “Or her. Anyway, even though this council will be completely unelected, it has to be more fair than one obscenely rich dragon assuming power because he can.”
Rhodri had met my gaze unflinchingly while Dominic was speaking. He’d received my message, loud and clear. Whether he’d act on it…
“Why did he tell you about the council?” Rhodri asked Dominic.
Dominic paused. Not to be dramatic, for once, but as if what he was about to say was something he was still struggling with.
“He wants me to be a member.”
I stared at him. For one startled instant, all I could think was that Abimelech Mortimer had looked at Dominic and seen exactly what I saw.
“Of course he does,” I said, proud as hell.
He flashed me a grin. “Apparently he’s suffered some kind of catastrophic lapse in judgement.”
And then Rhodri spoke, quietly but clearly, his gaze fixed on the fire. “I don’t believe he has.”
I was still reeling from those words when he pushed his chair back. He nodded to us both. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”
“Rhodri.” Dominic’s voice, suddenly husky.
Rhodri winced before he turned around. I didn’t know whether it was at the roughness in Dominic’s voice or the fact he’d used his name instead of calling him Dad.
“How far do you trust what Mortimer’s said?” Dominic asked. There was something like fear in his face, perhaps at making himself so vulnerable by asking.
“And that’s the question, isn’t it?” Rhodri picked up the whisky he’d just put down and tossed off the last mouthful.
“We have no way of knowing for certain, but on balance, I’m inclined to take him at his word.
This makes sense of other things he’s done.
I have no doubt that most of his motivation is so that we’ll look back and revere his memory as a great leader, but that doesn’t really matter. ”
Dominic nodded, eyes thoughtful as they met mine.
“Night,” Rhodri repeated. “Put the fire to bed when you’re done.” He walked slowly out of the study.
Dominic stared into the fire for a long moment after the door shut behind Rhodri.
“Two hours ago,” he said eventually, sounding stunned, “I thought I might be exiled by the end of the week.”
I didn’t think it was Mortimer’s offer that had left him so dazed. It was Rhodri believing he was capable of it.
He met my gaze. “I don’t know what to do with any of this,” he admitted.
There was nothing I could say that would untangle years of hurt and doubt in a single evening. But I could be here for him.
I reached out to touch his hand. “I want to take you to bed,” I told him.
And he let me.
DOMINIC
I’d expected Ben to want to talk about it all first. To ask some of the same questions I had, and then many, many more. Instead, he undressed me with a gentleness that I didn’t quite know what to do with, kissing every part of me he uncovered in turn.
Which may have led to his making desperate little sounds into the pillow as I fucked him. Not as hard as he sometimes wanted me to go, but enough so that he’d feel me tomorrow. He wouldn’t be able to move without thinking of me, just as I could no longer breathe without thinking of him.
Afterwards he lay pressed against me, hand moving slowly over my chest.
“Did you give Mortimer an answer?” he asked.
God, he was so drowsy. I pressed a kiss to his hair. “Go to sleep,” I told him. “You can hold your post-mortem inquisition tomorrow.”
“Post-mortem inquisition?” I could feel his smile against my skin. “We’ll make a historian of you yet.”
He dozed off almost immediately, boneless and sated, but sleep was a long time coming for me. I lay there with him in my arms, loving him beyond anything I could express. The terror I’d felt when Mortimer had wanted to take him still echoed faintly inside me. I couldn’t lose him. I couldn’t.
I hadn’t even stopped to wonder what Mortimer could possibly want with him. I’d just known it would be really bad news for Ben.
For the first time, I wondered what happened when he finished the work he was here to do. It almost didn’t matter, I decided. If he left, then I’d simply split my time between his family and here. Assuming Evelyn allowed me onto her territory, of course.
I shifted slightly to ease the pins and needles in the arm Ben was lying on. He made a sleepy little sound and snuggled closer against me. I pressed a kiss against his hair, and tried not to think about my father.
I’d spent years learning how not to want things from Rhodri. Approval, affection, pride—all of that longing had been packed away somewhere deep, because wanting it when it wasn’t forthcoming hurt too much. And now, apparently, my father had decided to confuse me on top of everything else.
Had he agreed with Mortimer’s judgement purely to suck up to the old dragon? No, that couldn’t be it. By supporting my defence of Ben, he’d defied Mortimer. So, what had changed his mind about me? All those years of telling me I wasn’t good enough, yet suddenly… I was?
I didn’t know what had changed. Unless, as Ben breathed softly against me, no doubt deep in dreams of unlimited historical records, I wondered for a moment. Maybe I was what had changed.
I stared into the darkness of my room, Ben solid and warm in my hold.
I don’t believe he has. The words replayed themselves with infuriating persistence.
And then there was the study. God, the study.
The heart of his power. For years, being summoned there had felt like waiting to be executed.
I’d stood in front of that desk so many times while Rhodri informed me exactly how I’d failed him.
Reckless. Thoughtless. Volatile. Every conversation in that room had been judgement.
But tonight he’d trusted me to remain there without him. To bank down the fire when I left.
Such a stupid little thing. Except somehow it wasn’t.
My throat tightened unexpectedly, and to stop myself thinking about why, I pressed another kiss against Ben’s hair.
I knew I should be thinking about Mortimer’s council, but my thoughts were growing increasingly tangled. Politics, Bedivere, and one-handed unicorns mixed together until I fell asleep, Ben warm and safe in my arms.