Fall of Ruin and Wrath (Awakening, #1)

“When what?” I asked when he trailed off.

“When, as he said, ‘I’m of clear mind’ or some other variation of that.” Claude’s cheeks deepened in color, and I suddenly understood his flush. I too would be embarrassed if a chancellor arrived with potentially important business to discuss and I was too intoxicated or high to do so. He cleared his throat, chin lifting. “I would like for you to go to him and see if you can ferret out his reasoning for being here.”

Aware of others around us, I kept my voice low. “You can’t wait to find out yourself in the morning?”

“It’s not the waiting that will keep me up all night stressed. It’s not knowing what he wants by the time we meet. I need to be prepared for this meeting.” He sounded positively aghast at the notion. “You already know how hard it is for me to sleep.”

It was hard for all of us to sleep, but I didn’t think the Baron was aware of that.

“I am . . .” He dipped his head as he brushed a strand of hair back from my shoulder. “I am worried that he brings word from the Royal Throne— the King. I may be a . . . tad bit late on the quarterly tithes.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered.

A rather high-pitched giggle escaped Claude, and my brows shot up as I stared at him. “Sorry,” he murmured, lips twitching. “I need your special aid, pet.”

What Claude needed was to indulge less in his party favors and stop spending coin on frivolous bullshit.

But what none of us, those who relied on him keeping his shit together, needed was for Claude to get himself even more worked up. That would likely result in him smoking more of the Midnight Oil and being a complete mess by the time he was to speak with the chancellor of the Royal Court. And if this was because he’d failed to pay his quarterly taxes, Claude would need to be in top form to plead for any necessary forbearance and forgiveness.

“Okay,” I sighed. “I will do this.”

A toothy smile appeared. “Thank you— ”

“If you promise me that you will go to bed,” I interrupted. “You need to rest.”

“Of course,” he agreed too quickly. “That is the plan.”

I eyed him.

“I swear,” he added, a flop of dark hair falling over his forehead. “I want to be fresh as aired laundry— ” He giggled again, this time at himself. “I will be sleeping very soon.”

“You better,” I warned.

“You are a rare jewel,” he exclaimed, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead. “Enjoy yourself, Lis.”

The Baron patted my shoulder again, and I turned from him before I did something reckless, like knocking him on his ass.

Followed by Grady, I crossed the antechamber, catching sight of Naomi. Her gaze briefly met mine as I passed. I glanced pointedly in Claude’s direction, and she rolled her eyes, but nodded. This wasn’t the first time she was tasked with making sure the Baron made it to his bed alone. She wheeled toward Claude, a laugh spilling from her lips— beautiful, but I caught the hint of annoyance in the sound. For some reason I recalled the first time I’d been asked to do whatever it took to ensure I could gain what Claude wanted, which required me to behave as a courtesan. It had been Naomi who had taken me aside, took what limited knowledge I had when it came to the various degrees of intimacy, and prepared me for what was to come. After all, I had been a virgin before meeting Claude, having experienced only a few hasty gropings that ended with me hearing things I’d wished I hadn’t.

But Naomi had also prepared me with something even Claude was unaware of. Knowledge of how the Long Night could be used. Grady always carried a small pouch of it in the breast pocket of his tunic. With it, I could choose exactly how far I wished the evening to progress.

Sadly, I’d used the Long Night more often than not, and tonight would likely be no different.

“I need to see Maven,” I told Grady when we left the antechamber.

Grady’s shoulders tensed, but he nodded. Entering another narrow, even less traveled hall, we stopped in front of a rounded, wooden door set within an alcove. Like always, the robed figure of the silver-haired Maven answered at the sound of the knock. I walked into her candlelit chamber, leaving Grady in the hall, his jaw so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if he cracked his molars.

One look around the space and I saw that she had been expecting me, meaning that either Claude or Hymel had already alerted her. Annoyance flashed. What would Claude have done if I had said no?

But why would he have thought that I would? I didn’t tell him no. Doing so rarely crossed my mind, because this was how I made sure I was invaluable to the Baron. This was how I ensured that Grady and I would never end up back on the streets. So, I wasn’t sure whom I should be more annoyed with. Me or him?

Maven’s space was more of a preparation chamber, outfitted with all the necessities— a clawfoot tub filled with steaming, scented water, brushes and racks of clothing. There was a narrow table where more intense preparation occurred— the waxing and plucking of all the hair on my body except for what grew from my scalp. Claude preferred that long, so it reached my waist now. I didn’t mind the length of hair on my head, but if I ever decided to leave, I was never going to touch a single piece of hair anyplace else again. Thankfully the removal of body hair had already routinely taken place.

I went to the tub, disrobing in the silence. Maven wasn’t known for being talkative. She didn’t speak. Not once as the nightgown slipped from my shoulders and slid over my hips, or while I stepped into the tub and bathed myself. She just waited, a towel held in those crooked fingers, her gaze rheumy but alert.

Naomi had once told me that Maven was the Baron’s grandmother on his father’s side, but Valentino, one of the other paramours, said that she was the widowed wife of one of the past groundskeepers. Lindie, a cook at the manor, claimed that Maven had been a mistress of one of the past Barons, but I was of the opinion that she was a wraith that somehow had managed to keep the flesh on her bones. I glanced at the papery thin skin of her forearms. She barely kept the flesh on her bones.

Once I’d finished in the tub, she dried me off as roughly as humanly possible. Maven also wasn’t known for her gentleness. I stood naked, toes curling against the floor as she shuffled to the rack. The hangers clanged off one another as she flipped through the clothing, eventually pulling out a robe that was the color between cyan and blue. The shade of the Midlands’ cloudless sky.

I shoved my arms into the wrapper and stood still as she knotted the sash so tightly the fabric cut into the soft skin of my waist. One glance in the standing mirror confirmed what I already knew. The vee of the neckline was absurdly deep and the robe was more gossamer than cloth. If I walked in brighter light, the exact shade of the skin surrounding my nipple would be known.

Swallowing a sigh, I went to the stool, sitting so Maven could undo all the pins holding up my hair. She then brushed out the tangles, jerking my head back with each stroke. My nails dug into my palms throughout the whole process; I was sure I’d be half bald soon. When she finished, no more than an hour had passed. She opened the door, leaving me to rejoin Grady in the hall. She didn’t follow. Her task was done for the night.

Neither Grady nor I spoke until we entered the silent hall leading to the various wings of the manor. Only the soft light of the moon streaming in through the windows lit our way, thank the gods.