Chapter Twenty-Eight #3
He hauled me into his arms, wrapping a thigh around my waist and nibbling my earlobe. “I’ve decided you are never going to leave this bed. I forbid it. It’s my very first law since I’ve been reinstated as lord chancellor.”
“You’ll need the king’s signature.”
An arrogant shrug. “Then I’ll get it.”
I twisted in his arms, so we were face-to-face. When I opened my mouth for him, his tongue swept in, meeting mine. The birds began chirping, welcoming the day. There were no Guildfords plotting. Not anymore.
I smoothed his hair back. “Roland.”
“Sweetheart.”
“Not Mouse?”
“Mmm.” He sighed contentedly, his eyes fluttering shut. “You’ll always be a mouse to me.”
“Explain exaltation again.”
He sighed, tracing a circle around my breast. “For someone so sharp, you’ve been surprisingly blind. I—” He drew his star sign above my navel. The circle and the bull horns. “—am a Taurus.”
Sensual. Obstinate. His entire life spent pursuing pleasure and comfort. Yes, he was.
“The Moon—you—is exalted in Taurus. Just as Venus is in Pisces, Philippe’s sign. And so, my theory is when a magician is with someone with whom they feel love and support, when they can expand, so to speak, their magic does exactly that. They change. It is as if you are meant to be with me.”
“‘We can be anything if we are found by the right person,’” I recited. He closed his eyes as I stroked his hair back. I frowned suddenly. “But I do not exalt you in turn.”
“I don’t mind. What—do you think I want Marguerite’s power?”
“Hmm. Prospero never would have guessed this was the answer. He thought we despised each other.”
“I doubt he thought you despised me. All your staring, and your—”
I rolled my eyes. Made to press my palm against his mouth again, but he caught it first.
“Prospero knows all,” murmured Roland. He lazily toyed with my fingers, transferring his rings to them. He liked to see his things on me. “Not all, it seems. Will you write an addendum to The Celestial Bodies?”
I shook my head. “I worry there is a reason why no one has written about exaltation. What if it is because it is too dangerous, too unpredictable? What if it is not the only way a magician’s magic can change?”
“What do you mean?”
“If there is a way to gain power, then there must be a way that the power is lost. All the signs are in opposition to other signs. Taurus to Scorpio, for example.”
He bit my shoulder playfully. “I suppose. You should take an apprentice and study this.”
“What about you?”
“Me?”
I pinned him down. “You don’t want to be my apprentice?”
My hands threaded into his hair; he stretched up to kiss me. The tension shifted between us, from satiation to newfound hunger in moments.
We did not tire as we waited for the king to die. But there was still no knock on the door.
Roland splashed water from the basin onto his face, glancing at me over his shoulder. He smiled, droplets shining along his brow and cheekbones. Neither of us could stop smiling.
He shook his wet hair over me like a dog. “I should call the council together. I’m afraid we’ve been too indulgent this morning.”
I nodded and tipped my chin up. We were still kissing when his new groom knocked.
Roland asked for one more minute, and then another minute, until the groom stuttered and wondered if His Grace would prefer he come back later?
Roland sighed and invited him in, but the groom had no news, only asked us if we required any food.
Roland made no effort to hide me, even as I wrapped the sheets around myself and ducked behind his back.
He accepted the plate of cheese and blackberries, the carafe of wine. “How fares the king?”
The groom reported that he was well. Resting.
“Good,” replied Roland, tearing a slice of bread from the loaf and feeding it to me. The poor youth sprinted away soon after, carrying a sealed missive from Roland for the council to meet at noon.
Roland insisted on eating the berries one by one by laying them in a trail from my navel to my breasts.
“Why won’t he die?” he murmured later. He hung his head over the bed, so all the blood rushed to it.
“I don’t know.”
“Suppose we were wrong. Suppose today is not the day. Balthasar may have tricked us.”
“There are still many hours left.”
He slept into the late morning—nothing disturbed him. For a while I curled up against him and closed my eyes, but I couldn’t rest. I watched him instead, caressing his unbearable, impossible face, his tousled hair, listening to the chime of rain against the windows.
I fiddled with the signet ring he’d handed to me. Inscribed in the gold band, in tiny lettering, was the oath we had both taken. I twisted it around and around, running my finger along the metal. And suddenly, the happiness of the morning seeped from my body.
I shot up and ran naked into Roland’s writing closet, to the desk he’d had me against only hours earlier, and threw myself into his chair.
I muttered to myself, the pen scratching against the parchment, until I was sure. Saturn spun somewhere high above, lighting my path.
I understood. Finally, at last, I understood.
I knew how the king would die.