The Dragon's Devotion (Chronicles of Tournai Book 5)

by Antonia Aquilante

  Flopping down onto the tiny couch was tempting, but he couldn’t stretch out on it. The bed was the only place he could. The bedchamber was equally small, yet comfortable, even for a man his size. The bed filled most of the space, barely leaving room for a nightstand, a narrow wardrobe, and a dresser with a small mirror above it. As he lit the candles on the dresser and nightstand with his Talent, he caught a glimpse of the glow of light in the mirror; he was endlessly fascinated with Tournai’s glasswork. The mirrors made in Tournai were clearer and of higher quality than any he’d ever seen elsewhere and were commonly found throughout the land as well.

  He shivered as he crossed the room to close the heavy curtains of the room’s one window. He’d been out since early morning, and the chill had seeped in. He flicked a hand at the hearth, and the wood, already laid out, caught fire immediately and turned into a cheerful little blaze.

  As the room warmed, he removed his boots and padded around in his stocking feet. He had a pair of slippers somewhere, but he constantly misplaced them, which should have been impossible in the confines of the small rooms. His book was exactly where he’d left it on the couch, and he retrieved it before pouring himself a glass of wine from the decanter on the sideboard. He carried both into the bedchamber and left them on the bedside table while he went down the hall to the floor’s bathing room. When he returned, he changed into a soft pair of pants and a loose shirt to sleep in.

  After snuffing out the candles in the sitting room with a thought, he climbed into bed and, sighing, sank into the mattress. The bed was far more comfortable than some he’d slept in, a pleasant surprise. Sometimes he longed for a place of his own where he could settle, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to return home yet. And settling somewhere else, where he’d have to always be on guard, hiding his abilities—hiding what he was and the strain that not changing into his dragon regularly put on him—seemed impossible.

  Again a pang at the thought of leaving Bastien, but he pushed it aside. He was attracted to the man. He wanted more; he’d already admitted that to himself. Of course he wouldn’t want to leave Jumelle until he and Bastien had had their fill of each other.

  He picked up his book, opening to the page he’d marked last night, and began to read. And then he read the same page again. It had been a fairly engrossing story, but at the moment, he wasn’t absorbing a word of it. Thoughts of Bastien took over—of his hand in Corentin’s, of his surprisingly soft lips parting for Corentin’s kisses. He wanted Bastien in bed with him. The image of it was so vivid, it was almost as if Bastien were there with him amid the plush pillows and blankets, so vivid it was almost a shock to find himself alone. He wanted more kisses and more conversation, with Bastien relaxing, the tense set of his expression and rigidity of his muscles melting away. He didn’t know why Bastien was so strained, but he hated seeing it.

  Wanting Bastien in bed, wanting to kiss him senseless was one thing, but it disturbed him how much he wanted to make Bastien smile.

  BASTIEN WENT UP to the palace the next morning with a mix of eagerness and trepidation. While eating breakfast with Griffen, he’d received a note summoning him. He could see no reason for Philip to do so except for something having to do with the investigation. Griffen insisted on accompanying him and would not be swayed from that resolution. He seemed to still be irritated with Bastien. Whether for keeping the letter from him or for their conversation of the night before, he had no idea. Bastien didn’t argue. If Philip didn’t want Griffen there, Bastien had no doubt he would send him on his way.

  They arrived late in the morning, as instructed, under a leaden gray sky, and left their horses at the stable before going into the palace. They were family and, as such, weren’t required to enter by the main entrance or have servants show them through. It was a privilege Bastien appreciated. They had, however, been stopped by the royal guards stationed at the gate, which was only to be expected.

  Inside the palace, they strode through the corridors. Bastien knew his way to Philip’s study and suite, and some of the other rooms, but Griffen was far more comfortable in these halls. Then again, he’d spent more time in them recently, and he easily acclimated to places and situations while it took Bastien far longer. In any case, becoming too comfortable or casual about the palace, even when cousin to the prince, wasn’t right.

  Griffen was far quieter than usual as they walked toward the study Philip and Amory shared. Normally, Griffen would talk and joke. His serious demeanor was a bit of a shock today. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been, as the situation had hit Griffen as hard as it had Bastien.

  When they arrived at the wing where Philip and Amory’s suite was located, they met Etan and one of Philip’s twin cousins coming in the opposite direction. Bastien hadn’t seen Etan since the wedding and didn’t know he’d returned from his wedding trip, though he’d heard it wasn’t planned to be a long one. He seemed to be back to work already, a sheaf of papers in his hand as he spoke to his companion who carried a few books in the crook of his arm. Bastien couldn’t tell which twin it was—he’d only seen them the once recently, and they resembled each other closely. When he turned his head to speak to Etan, Bastien saw that his dark hair was bundled in a messy knot held up by what looked like a silver comb. The young man was dressed well, if in a style not quite that of Tournai’s court—for all Bastien knew of fashion—but the twins had spent half their lives in Teilo. The clothing was tailored in rather sumptuous fabrics and fit close to his slim build. He noticed Bastien and Griffen and nudged Etan.

  “Griffen, Bastien, good morning,” Etan said with a smile. His companion—really, which one was he? Faelen? Alexander?—echoed the greeting.

  “Good morning, Etan,” Griffen said in an approximation of his usual jovial demeanor. “Faelen.”

  Well, that answered that question. While greeting him and Etan, Bastien tried to study Faelen without being obvious. He hated that he wasn’t able to tell him apart from his brother, but he’d manage it soon. Bastien was likely to encounter them when he was in Jumelle, and it wasn’t right not to know the names of members of the royal family.

  “Did you and Tristan have a pleasant trip?” Griffen asked, his voice expressing polite inquiry with just a hint of innuendo. He frowned before Bastien could turn a glare on him. “Are you back earlier than you were supposed to be?”

  “A little. Circumstances dictated the change in plans,” Etan said, and Bastien wondered if he meant the problem Bastien had brought to Philip. “And Tristan missed Bria. He’s never been away from her before.”

  Bria was Tristan’s baby daughter and wasn’t even a year old yet, if Bastien remembered correctly. It had to have been difficult to leave a child so young even if they were sure to be well cared for.

  “And Tristan was the only one who worried?” Griffen asked with a smile.

  Etan laughed. “Not at all, but I would have made it a little longer. I was enjoying having Tristan to myself.”

  “I can imagine.”

  Surprisingly Bastien could too. Or he’d like to. His odd evening with Corentin came to mind. That night seemed like a dream now, almost. A time outside the rest of his life and all that went along with it. He understood how Etan would like time away, especially with his new husband.

  “You’re here to see Philip?” Etan asked.

  “Yes. He asked us to come,” Bastien said. The note had been phrased as a request, and perhaps was even meant as one, but a summons from the prince was nevertheless a summons.

  Etan nodded, as if he knew the reason for their presence, and he probably did. “I’ll walk with you.”

  None of them remarked that Etan would be turning around and going back the way he came.

  “I should go,” Faelen said, “unless you need me. I’m having lunch with Maxen.” He’d been quiet through their conversation, and Bastien had almost forgotten he was there, though he wasn’t sure how that was possible. Faelen might have been quiet, but he also had a presence and an undeniable beauty.

 
; “Tristan’s brother?” Etan turned a surprised gaze on Faelen.

  “Yes. We met at your wedding.”

  “And you two are…” Griffen gave Faelen an arch look.

  “Friends, or becoming friends, anyway.” Faelen rolled his eyes. “You sound like Alexander.”

  Etan laughed. “Go. I’ll see you later.”

  Faelen took his leave of them, and Etan motioned for Bastien and Griffen to come along in the direction of Philip and Amory’s suite.

  “Does he know?” Griffen asked.

  “No,” Etan said.

  “But you do,” Bastien said.

  Etan glanced at him, his eyes unreadable for a change. “Of course. Did you think Philip wouldn’t tell me?”

  “No, never. But with your wedding, I thought he might spare you for a while.”

  “No sense doing that,” Griffen said.

  Etan nodded sharply. “No sense at all.”

  Bastien shouldn’t have asked. He couldn’t imagine Philip and Amory not telling Etan. Etan was one of their inner circle. A juvenile part of Bastien wanted to resent that relationship—he was as closely related by blood to Philip as Etan was, but they didn’t enjoy as close a relationship—but he couldn’t. Circumstances dictated the relationship Bastien had with Philip, and he couldn’t be irritated that someone else’s was different.

  “I’m sure the twins can be trusted, but we’re keeping it close for now, so Philip hasn’t told them.” Etan shook his head ruefully. “The difficult part is making sure they don’t find out. Alexander is curious as a cat and just as stealthy, so we’re trying not to mention anything when he might be in the vicinity.”

  “And now?” Griffen asked.

  “He’s out of the palace this morning, so we’re safe in that respect, but still, we’re not talking about it out in the corridors.”

  “Best that way,” Bastien said.

  There were generally fewer people in this wing than in those with more public rooms, but servants and guards were everywhere, which amounted to plenty of ears to potentially overhear information they didn’t want public.

  Etan led them to Philip and Amory’s study and knocked on the door. Bastien had hoped they might be taken to the princes’ suite, which would have signaled a more familial atmosphere, but he wasn’t surprised that they were going to the study. What they were about to discuss was as much Tournai’s business as it was the business of their family. Possibly more in some respects, as it concerned the assassination of the previous prince.

  Etan opened the door and stepped through at a call from within, Bastien and Griffen following. Philip and Amory were both at their desks. A fire crackled in the hearth, warming the room. Philip, however, did not look light or cheerful.

  “Come in,” he said and gestured to chairs. “You decided to join us, Griffen?”

  Bastien watched Philip as he took the indicated chair, trying to see if Philip was annoyed that Griffen had taken it upon himself to join a meeting he wasn’t invited to. He wouldn’t have been surprised; the prince handled his meetings exactly as he pleased.

  “I did.” Griffen sat next to Bastien while Etan pulled up a chair to the side. “They were my parents too.”

  Philip only nodded and sent a quick glance toward Amory, who met his eyes but made no other response. Something obviously passed between them, but it was indecipherable to Bastien. Philip finally said, “All right.”

  “Has there been any progress?” Bastien kicked himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He didn’t want to demand—or, well, he did, but he shouldn’t, and he always reminded himself he shouldn’t demand, especially of the prince. Cousin or not.

  Philip turned his gaze on Bastien. “We’ll discuss it. First, can you tell me why you decided to go see Master Savarin and question him about his work on this matter?”

  Bastien didn’t flinch at the slight edge to the words. He’d half expected it. “When last we met, you said you were going to have Master Savarin examine the note. I wanted to know what he’d found.”

  “And you didn’t think you would be informed?” Philip asked the question in a mild tone that told Bastien nothing about how angry he actually might be.

  “It’s been nearly two weeks, and I haven’t heard anything, Philip. Your Highness.” Bastien corrected himself quickly. Normally Philip wouldn’t care; Bastien wasn’t sure that was the case today. “I decided to find out what Master Savarin knew. As Griffen said, they were our parents.”

  “You didn’t expect me to keep my word?” Now Philip’s words were sharper. “You could have come here instead.”

  “I felt that I could go to Master Savarin myself. I didn’t see why I shouldn’t. You said I would be part of this.”

  The study was silent around them aside from the crackle of the fire and the light patter of rain drops against the window. He could feel eyes on him, on them, but he didn’t look away from Philip. Everything was under Philip’s control, but Bastien wouldn’t be shut out of the investigation of his own parents’ murder.

  “I did, and I don’t break my promises. I could be insulted that you thought I would.” Philip didn’t pause for Bastien to protest. “Master Savarin keeps his promises too, and one is to report his findings to no one that I have not authorized him to speak to.”

  “And you didn’t say he could speak with me.” It wasn’t a question, but Bastien wanted an answer nonetheless.

  “No, I didn’t.” Philip gave no reason for his decision, and Bastien had to bite back a frown and some ill-advised words.

  “I won’t be kept from this, Philip.”

  “I never said I was going to keep you out of it or keep information from you, but I can’t have you chasing down those who work for me and trying to get information from them. This can’t work if you do.”

  Bastien didn’t particularly see why, but he nodded. No one involved in this matter would ever give him information in opposition to Philip’s expressed wishes.

  “I apologize.” He wasn’t feeling particularly apologetic, but Philip was unlikely to change his mind. “And the rest of the investigation?”

  “We won’t keep any of it from you.”

  Bastien needed to trust Philip’s words. But hadn’t enough time passed for someone to learn something, for them to tell Bastien something? “Has any progress been made?”

  Philip leaned back in his chair and contemplated Bastien. He refused to squirm, even under Philip’s penetrating gaze. Finally Philip sighed. “Captain Loriot and Lord Marcus have begun their work. They’ll need to speak with you—both of you—as well as Ligeia and Mathis soon.”

  “Of course,” Griffen said. But Bastien had expected that to happen far sooner; it was part of the reason he’d wondered what was going on.

  “They’ve already spoken with Etan, Cathal, Vrai, and Meriall.”

  “I don’t know how much help we were,” Etan said. “That day…it’s clear, but it isn’t. I know that doesn’t make a lot of sense. The time before seemed like normal days, and the time after…”

  “Anything but,” Philip finished. “I know.”

  “Other than Cathal, we weren’t involved at court,” Etan continued after a second. “I was studying at university. Vrai and I only attended some social events, and Meriall was too young for even that.”

  “The amount of politicking, the intrigue, that occurs in the social whirl of this or any court is considerable.” Griffen shook his head. “I don’t think I realized it entirely then, but I was still at university too. I hadn’t been trained to look the way I was when preparing for foreign assignments.”

  “It’s true. I’ve been trying to remember anything out of place, but it’s been years,” Etan said. “I was rather wrapped up in my studies then.”

  “You can be a bit wrapped up in your studies now.” Griffen smiled, and either ignored or didn’t see the look Bastien sent his way for his levity. “Good thing you have Tristan.”

  “Ha. I suppose it is.”

  “But sur
ely if you heard something that seemed really wrong, it would have stood out to you,” Amory said, breaking his silence. “Even if you weren’t listening for it particularly.”

  “I would hope so.” Etan shrugged. “But if it was something subtle? We could have missed it.”

  “You can’t blame yourself for that. You couldn’t have anticipated the need to be watchful for something like this.” Amory gave each of them a look, as if trying to impress the truth of his words on them.

  “Maybe we should have been more observant. I was old enough to be.” Bastien kicked himself for that now. At the time, he’d been out of university, spending his time with his father learning the family’s land and business, already representing his father in some matters. His siblings had been young and their inattentiveness could be excused, but Bastien’s couldn’t.

  “You aren’t that much older than the rest of us,” Etan said. “And Cathal didn’t notice anything either.”

  That provided little comfort. Yes, at the time Cathal had been the duke’s heir and in much the same situation as Bastien had been, but it didn’t make up for Bastien’s own failings.

  “Enough of this. It’s getting us nowhere.” Philip’s words cut through Bastien’s thoughts. “Think about that time and if you could have seen or heard anything, but blaming ourselves won’t help. Amory’s right.”

  Bastien nodded along with Etan, but whatever anyone thought, he should have been more attentive to the undercurrents at court then. They’d made several trips to Jumelle that year, plenty of time for him to have seen anything there was to see. There had to have been something, because a crime of this magnitude took planning.

  “I hesitate to ask, but has Master Savarin found anything?” Bastien tried for a smile and a half shrug when Philip gave him a sardonic look.

  After a long moment, Philip said, “Lord Marcus examined the note first. The paper and ink are both cheap and unremarkable. Master Savarin hasn’t found any magic in the note, or any performed on it.”