A Court of Innocents

10: Alliance

If the outside of the cottage was the picture of spring, the inside was like taking a step inside the Autumn Court. The wooded furniture was all built of mahogany, each designed with intricate carvings of fallen leaves. A large hearth accompanied the brown and red couches in the sitting room and I could easily see myself curling up with a blanket and a cup of tea in front of that brilliantly designed fireplace. The table in the dining room was an exact replica of the one I'd had in my house growing up. I was tempted to ask Lucien why it had been designed after my house, not his, but I already knew the answer—my house was the one place he could go in his court where he felt safe. Windows lined the walls of the kitchen and Lucien opened them to let in the soft mid-afternoon breeze.

I took it all in silently, not sure how to feel about it. On one hand, any reminder of my home court made my stomach knot and my eyes squeeze shut in traumatized fear. But on the other, this was the place Lucien had called home and stepping foot in here was like stepping foot inside of his mind.

He brought in logs from the shed and lit a fire to start warming the air inside. It was cold and dusty in here from years of being empty.

"Can't you just warm the place with your magic?" I wondered as I followed him into the kitchen.

He began rummaging through the cupboards in search of anything still edible. "I put a ward up on the house decades ago to make it a magic-free zone."

I gaped at him like a fish out of water. "W-what? Why?"

"Because I didn't want to get attacked in my own home in the middle of the night," he said. I heard what he didn't say: I didn't want my brothers to find this place and burn it down in my sleep.

It was smart, I had to admit. But it was still a tad inconvenient.

Lucien found a can of peas, dried beans, and rice. Everything else had to be thrown out. We were quiet as we heated up the food and prepared a small helping for ourselves. Only once we'd both cleared our plates did he finally turn to me.

"Are you going to tell me the truth about Tamlin?"

The question threw me off guard, and I wondered if he had pieced it together already. Had he somehow sensed the mating bond? "What do you mean?"

"In the woods this morning," he explained, "you looked at him like... like you'd never seen a High Lord before. What the hell was going on in that brain of yours? It takes a lot to make you lose your composure."

I couldn't look him in the eyes. Telling him the truth was out of the question. I wasn't ready for him to know I had a mate, let alone that my mate was Tamlin the Fucking Tool.

"You lied to me," he realized. "You lied about why you tried to kill him at that meeting."

That, at least, I hadn't lied about. "No, I did that because I really had had enough of him insulting my High Lady and getting away with it."

"Then you lied about why you changed your mind. About why you stopped yourself from killing him."

I blinked. Lucien always saw too much. In my time away from him, I had forgotten about that ability of his. Forgotten just how similar we were in that regard. "You'd make a great member of Azriel's spy legion, you know."

"Don't try to distract me. Why is Tamlin still alive? Why didn't you kill him?"

I took in the details of my empty plate, a shining piece of red ceramic with a design of orange and brown leaves around the edges. "I don't want to lie to you, Luc," I finally said.

"Then don't."

I said nothing.

He huffed. "Fine. But you know it's only a matter of time before I figure it out."