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

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The Dragon's Devotion (Chronicles of Tournai Book 5) Page 19

by Antonia Aquilante


  “I know.” Bastien let himself into his sitting room, looking at Griffen questioningly when he followed him in before he could close the door. Griffen looked placidly back. Had he always been so stubborn?

  “If you know all of that, Bastien, then what do you think you’re doing? You aren’t trained for this.”

  “I’m perfectly aware of that fact. Doesn’t mean I still might not see something. I’m not stupid,” he muttered as he walked through the sitting room and into his bedchamber, Griffen close on his heels.

  “I’m aware you’re not stupid, but you aren’t the expert here.”

  Bastien unfastened his rather crumpled jacket, since it seemed Griffen wasn’t leaving any time soon, and tossed it over a chair. “I want to see for myself,” he repeated and walked into his dressing room.

  Griffen did not follow. “Nevertheless, you can’t. And before you protest again, we don’t even know where this man’s lodgings are.”

  Bastien stopped in the act of grabbing fresh clothes from his wardrobe, and cursed. The note hadn’t said where the man had lived. Probably on purpose, to keep him from running straight there. He walked back to the open door and frowned at Griffen, who stood in the middle of the bedchamber with his hands on his hips. “We can find out.”

  Griffen’s voice was calm and implacable. “We’ll go up to the palace and see what they’ve learned. Maybe they’ll tell us, and we can have a look after.”

  His logic made Bastien irrationally irritated. But he also had no better plan.

  “Fine. Let me clean up and dress, and we’ll go.”

  Griffen nodded. “Have you eaten?”

  “No, but it doesn’t matter.”

  “It’s early enough. I’ll have something prepared for you. It’ll be ready when you come down. We’ll go after you eat.”

  “Stop managing me.” He enunciated each word clearly and stared at Griffen to make sure he understood.

  But Griffen only shrugged and smiled faintly. “Then stop needing me to. You looked almost relaxed, almost happy, when you came home this morning. I don’t think I’ve seen you truly relaxed since we were children, but you were this morning, and I could kiss the man myself for putting you in that mood.”

  “Excuse me?” He took a step forward, not sure which part of Griffen’s statement to be more outraged about, but outraged nonetheless.

  Griffen waved a negligent hand. “Oh, calm down. I’m not going to. But it’s good for you to be happy, Bastien. I hated to have to tell you about the note when you looked that way. I hate having to ruin it.”

  The outrage drained slowly at Griffen’s very real regret. Griffen truly was concerned for him. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

  “The sad part is I think you’re saying that because you don’t think you can have anything for yourself outside the demands of the earldom.” Griffen’s mouth grew tight when Bastien said nothing. “I worry about you.”

  He nearly flinched with the shock. “You shouldn’t.”

  “Because you’re the earl? Or because you’re the older brother?” Now Griffen smiled, though it was a sad one. “You’re my brother, and I love you, even if you do drive me mad on a good day. I’ll worry about you when I please, especially when you don’t think for a moment about yourself. Now, get dressed and come down. I’ll make sure breakfast is ready for you.”

  Griffen left without another word, before Bastien could gather his scattered wits to respond. He stood for a moment after the door closed, trying to sort his thoughts, but then he shook his head. He didn’t have time to puzzle out his brother. Or to adequately evaluate what he’d said. He didn’t need to anyway. Griffen wasn’t right and didn’t have to worry.

  Bastien turned back into his dressing room to continue preparing for the day. He had no time for a long soak in the tub, but he hurried to wash and dress in clothes appropriate for a visit to the palace and then a lunch with Uncle Lonzo, which he only remembered as he was trying to tame his unruly hair in the mirror. He still had time for a talk with Philip and hopefully a look at the letter writer’s lodgings before lunch, though, if he didn’t dally too long.

  Griffen had, true to his word, procured breakfast for him. He wanted to protest that they didn’t have time, but Griffen’s obstinate expression told him the argument would take more time than choking down a few bites of food. With a glare for his brother, he dropped into a chair and set about eating some of the fruit, cheese, and pastry that Griffen had gotten from the cook. Griffen sat across from him, as if to make sure he ate, which only made Bastien even more irritated and jittery.

  When the churning in his stomach wouldn’t allow him to eat any more, Bastien pushed his plate away. “Let’s go.”

  Griffen didn’t protest, as Bastien half expected; he only stood, saying, “I asked for our horses to be readied.”

  “Well. Good. Thank you.”

  After retrieving their cloaks from a maid in the entry hall, they went outside to their waiting horses, mounted up, and rode for the palace. Even though the hour was still early, with a chill in the air that spoke of the approaching winter, people were already in the streets, carrying out their work or daily tasks. The market would be open and bustling with those getting an early start on their shopping, but he and Griffen didn’t need to go near it. A good thing, as it was one of the busiest areas in Jumelle in the morning, and Bastien didn’t want them to be delayed.

  They weren’t expected at the palace, but the guards let them through the gate anyway, and they left their horses at the stables.

  “They’ll likely be in their study or their suite at this time,” Griffen said.

  Bastien nodded. He hoped Philip and Amory were in their study and had started their day already. He didn’t like the idea of barging in on them in the privacy of their suite, but then, they had to have assumed Bastien would come when he received their note.

  When Bastien knocked on the study door, Philip’s secretary Donatien answered. “Good morning, your lordships.”

  “Are Their Highnesses in?” Bastien asked.

  “They’re in their suite at the moment. Would you like me announce you?” Donatien asked.

  “No, thank you, Donatien. We’ll announce ourselves,” Griffen said.

  They left the study and continued down the corridor to the main entrance to the suite. Griffen knocked, and a voice from inside called for them to enter. Inside, they found a cozy family scene—Bastien might have expected that, but not one that included so many people. Amory and Philip were there, with Amory actually perched on Philip’s lap, laughing at something and cradling a cup in his hands. Philip had an arm wound around Amory’s waist and a smile on his face, his love for Amory shining from his eyes. Bastien had seldom observed Philip so unguarded; perhaps if he’d spent more time with his cousin in a private setting he might have. It was…nice to see.

  He dragged his gaze away from Philip and Amory to the others in the room. Cathal and Flavian were seated on a couch together. Flavian was cuddled up to Cathal’s side, looking slightly sleepy and holding a cup of his own, his bright head resting on Cathal’s shoulder. Etan sat off to one side with Julien perched on one knee and Bria on the other. Two-year-old Julien had his customary sweet smile on his face as he pointed to something in a book he held. Perhaps Etan was reading them a story. Tristan sat closer to the others but he watched Etan and the children with a fond expression on his face.

  “Good morning, Bastien, Griffen,” Philip said. “Come in.”

  Amory echoed his greetings, making no move to get off his husband’s lap, and added, “Have you eaten? We’ve finished breakfast, but I could send for something.”

  “No, thank you. We’ve both eaten,” Griffen said and then wished everyone a good morning.

  “I doubted you would wait for word before coming up,” Philip said. “Sit. Lord Marcus or Captain Loriot will come to report soon enough. We have a little time before that, and before we need to start our day since we’re all awake so early.”

  �
��Actually I should go,” Tristan said. “As much as I’d rather stay with you all, I have to go down to the office early this morning.”

  “Shall I walk you out?” Etan asked.

  Tristan stood and went to Etan. “No, stay. I’ll be back this afternoon.”

  Etan tilted his face up, and Tristan kissed him, soft and sweet and not at all the perfunctory kiss good-bye so many might share. Bastien shouldn’t be watching them. It was such an ordinary moment, but rather romantic as well, and it caused a yearning deep inside that he didn’t want to acknowledge, let alone think about. He especially didn’t want to think of it in relation to Corentin. “I’ll see you later then,” Etan said, love so clear in his voice.

  “See you later.” Tristan lifted his daughter from Etan’s lap and gave her a cuddle, making the baby giggle. “I’ll take this one back to her nursemaid on my way out.”

  Tristan said his farewells to the rest of them and disappeared out of the suite with Bria. Griffen slouched on the couch Tristan had vacated, and Bastien sat at his side. Why did he feel as if he was intruding on a family scene? He was as much family to Philip as Griffen or Cathal and Etan were. But the scene he found himself a part of was foreign to him, and entirely unexpected. When was the last time he’d spent any time with Philip or the others at anything other than court events or official business? He couldn’t remember.

  “How are you, Bastien, Griffen?” Amory asked once Tristan had left. “I hope we didn’t wake you. We considered waiting until we knew more, but we thought it better to contact you.”

  Bastien bristled, both at the implication that they’d almost kept information from him, even if only for a little while, and at the concern in Amory’s eyes. It was kind of him to worry for them, but Bastien didn’t want to be treated as an object of pity. Before he could say anything, Griffen spoke. “Not at all. I was awake and planning on a morning ride, and Bastien wasn’t even home yet.”

  “Griffen.” Bastien glared at him but doubted it would quell the mischief he could see in his brother’s eyes.

  “Really?” Cathal asked. “Do tell us.”

  “It was…” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say that his night with Corentin was nothing. The words stuck in his throat, and he shook his head. “No.”

  “Did your evening have anything to do with Corentin?” Etan asked. “You seemed rather cozy with him at the university yesterday.”

  Everyone was looking at him now—well, everyone except Julien, who was still absorbed in his picture book. Bastien shook his head again. “Just leave it.”

  He knew very well this group was highly unlikely to do as he asked and braced for the next question.

  “Well, Uncle Ormand is doomed to disappointment,” Griffen said.

  “Uncle Ormand was always doomed to disappointment. That has nothing to do with Corentin,” Bastien snapped and then kicked himself. Griffen had probably hoped he’d do just that.

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.” He doubted the quelling look he gave Griffen would have any more effect than the last one, but he could hope.

  “What is Uncle Ormand doomed to disappointment about?” Philip asked.

  “He seems to want either me or Bastien or maybe both of us to marry Patia or Idalia.” Griffen sighed. “He and Aunt Evadne sprang the idea on us at dinner last night.”

  “He wants you to marry your cousins?” Philip frowned.

  “Yes. With lots of talk of shirking responsibility to the family and the title,” Griffen said.

  Was he ignoring the glare Bastien leveled at him, or did he not see it? Griffen needed to stop talking. This was not something to trouble the prince with.

  “Why would he want you to marry your cousins? His daughters, I assume?” Amory asked. “I think I remember them. They were presented at court not that long ago.”

  Philip nodded. “They were. And unless Bastien or Griffen knows better, I would assume he’s thinking of consolidating wealth and power. It’s still odd. He has a son as well, so there’s no reason for it.”

  “An abundance of caution, perhaps?” Cathal tossed in. “Ormand has always been a little old-fashioned and straight-laced.”

  Not that long ago, those labels might have been applied to Cathal. However, it was really Cathal’s father, the previous duke, who was the hidebound one, with Cathal only trying to live up to his father’s expectations. Cathal seemed much happier since he’d found his own way, both in marriage to Flavian and in how he handled the dukedom.

  “I think he wants to make sure Patia and Idalia are taken care of, and to consolidate the family wealth,” Griffen said. “He prefers Jumelle so he can be at court, but his land is prosperous, and he inherited a decent amount from our grandfather.”

  The abrupt change in Griffen from teasing to seriousness made Bastien’s head spin. “As you said, he’s going to be disappointed whatever the motivation for the scheme. I hope I made that clear to them, and if not, I will.”

  “I know.” Griffen said. “They’ll turn their attention elsewhere for husbands for the girls. I don’t know if they’ll leave you alone about marriage in general.”

  Bastien shrugged, trying not to show how displeased he was with the idea, even though he knew it was true. He reached for a casual tone. “I may have to marry and produce heirs soon, but I’m not marrying one of my cousins. I’ll decide who myself.”

  Philip frowned. “You shouldn’t—”

  A knock at the door interrupted whatever Philip was about to say. His frown deepened. “Enter.”

  Donatien opened the door and bowed. “Your Highness, Captain Loriot has returned to the palace.”

  “Thank you, Donatien. Tell him we’ll see him in the study directly.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  After Donatien left, Philip turned back to the rest of them. “Let’s see what they’ve found.”

  Anticipation and impatience surged in Bastien. Finally. Perhaps they would finally learn something.

  Amory patted the hand Philip had around his waist and then stood. “I’ll take Julien to the nursery and join you as soon as I can.”

  Flavian glanced at Amory, something in his blue-green eyes assessing. “You go with Philip. I’ll take Julien.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.” Flavian pulled away from Cathal’s arm and brushed his fingers lightly over Cathal’s cheek. When Cathal captured his hand in one of his and pressed a kiss to it, Flavian’s lips curved and some of his prickly edges smoothed in that sweet, intimate smile. He rose and set his cup on the table. “Julien, come with me.”

  The little prince looked up and smiled, an expression that had captured the hearts of everyone in Tournai. “Read to me?”

  Flavian looked momentarily panicked. “Come along to the nursery, and we’ll see.”

  Julien kissed Etan’s cheek and scrambled from his lap, clutching the book in one little hand. He grabbed Flavian’s hand with his other and began towing him from the room. The rest of them stood and went in the opposite direction, toward the connecting door to the study.

  “He really has no idea what to do with babies, but he’s gotten better with Julien,” Cathal murmured.

  Amory laughed quietly. “True. The first time I handed Julien to him, Flavian looked as if I’d scarred him for life.”

  Chapter Twelve

  THEY’D ONLY JUST settled themselves in the study when there was a rap on the door. At Philip’s call, Loriot came into the room and bowed. If he was surprised to find them all waiting for him, he didn’t show it. He stood in front of them, declining the seat Amory offered.

  Philip didn’t waste time. “What have you found, Captain?”

  “Master Savarin was able to trace the writer of the letter. I have to admit to not understanding exactly how he did it. The magic is far beyond me, but he’ll be happy to explain it to you if you’d like.”

  Philip nodded. “We can speak to Master Savarin later. For now, tell us what you know.”

 
; “Yes, Your Highness. The person who wrote the letter was a man by the name of Gabin. Lord Marcus discovered that he was once a sailor in the navy. He was one of the sailors crewing the boat the day Their Highnesses and the earl and countess died.”

  Bastien froze. Beside him, Griffen sucked in a quiet breath. This Gabin had been on the boat. He had to know what happened that day. And now he was dead, and everything he knew had gone with him.

  “He was presumed dead along with the rest of the crew,” Loriot continued. “Not all of the crew’s bodies were found after, but as none were found alive either, it was deemed safe to pronounce them dead.”

  “But obviously, they weren’t all dead. Do you know where this man was all these years?” Philip asked.

  “No, Your Highness, but we’re working to find out,” Loriot said. “He was living in a room in a less affluent district of Jumelle, but he only rented the room two months ago. It’s possible—likely, in fact—that he’s been hiding.”

  “But was he hiding because he knew what happened and was scared, or because he was involved and didn’t want to be caught?” Cathal mused.

  “And then, what? Had an attack of conscience and sent me the letter?” Bastien supposed it was possible, but he would have assumed the man was scared and running.

  “Maybe.” Etan shrugged. “If he was involved somehow, whoever put the plan in motion might want him dead to avoid witnesses. I suppose it goes the other way around too—if he wasn’t involved but witnessed it, they would still want him dead.”

  “Is that what happened to him?” Griffen sat forward in his chair. “Was he killed by whoever killed our parents?”

  “I can’t say yet,” Loriot replied. “However, he was murdered. It’s possible whoever was behind the assassinations finally caught up with him.”

  “After all this time.” Amory shook his head. “It seems like a long time to hide and then suddenly be found.”

  “It’s possible he’d left Jumelle or even Tournai, Your Highness, and only just returned. Perhaps it was the return that led to his discovery.”

 

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