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Even if it did leave him indebted to this King of Blood.

“Naturally.” The King moved back to his desk, shifting through a stack of papers. “I’ll begin the process of transferring the Aberforth estates and funds to you immediately. The country estate will take some time—it’s been closed for over two decades—but there is still the townhouse here in Dameral. I’ll have that opened for you and find a crew of servants to get you settled.”

“That won’t be—”

The King cut him off. “It is. I won’t have the last of my family living beneath his station. Tonight, you can stay here at the palace, but starting tomorrow you’ll live the life you were born to lead.”

“You don’t have to air out a room for me,” Samuel said quickly. “Lady LeClaire has already prepared a room for me, seeing as I’m, uh. Evicted.”

There was a flash of steel in the King’s eyes. “Someone evicted you?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Samuel said quickly. “It was entirely fair. I couldn’t make my rent after I was fired—”

“Someone fired you?” the King asked, his voice cutting like a knife.

Samuel winced. “Please, don’t even think of it. It’s a complicated situation. You see, I was the one who found the body last week—that messy murder? After a Guard showed up at my work to take my statement, it worried the management…”

“Wait, that was you?” His eyes narrowed, his mind clearly whirring with some new idea, but he shook his head. “Even so—”

“No!” Samuel said firmly. He couldn’t believe it. Here he was, arguing with the damned Eternal King, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Until three days ago, I didn’t even know I was an Aberforth, let alone my employer or my landlord. What happened to me is what would have happened to any other Unblooded. So, don’t be angry at them on my behalf, because they didn’t do anything wrong.”

The King took a step back, looking at Samuel with a fresh appreciation. Samuel didn’t back down—he held his head high as he waited for the King’s judgement.

He didn’t expect him to look so pleased.

“Well, it seems you have the Aberforth backbone after all. Very well.” He inclined his head to Samuel. “All transgressions will be forgiven—just this once.”

Samuel couldn’t do anything but nod. He didn’t trust his voice at this moment, not with the rage that burned inside him.

“But do not expect such leniency again,” the King warned. “You are an Aberforth now and will be treated as such.”

Chapter Ten

Shan

“An Aberforth,” Isaac whispered as they slipped out into the hallway, his arm linked with hers. “I figured you were planning something, but I didn’t expect this.”

Shan didn’t respond right away, steering them past the guards and into a windowed alcove that overlooked the ocean. Only then, in the relative safety behind thick, dark curtains, did she turn to him, taking in the bags under his eyes and the exhaustion that clung to him like a heavy cloak. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Isaac said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Especially as I didn’t receive any notice about this meeting.”

Shan focused her gaze on the curtains over his shoulder. “Oh?”

He nodded slowly. “It’s very interesting, seeing that I am the one who manages the King’s correspondence and schedule as Royal Blood Worker. Which I am sure you know.”

“I do,” Shan said, oh so softly, finally meeting his gaze. When she had called in her favors to get a meeting with the King—without the Royal Blood Worker’s interference—she had expected him to be at most a little miffed. She did not expect him to look so hurt.

He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, taking a deep steadying breath. “You know, I’m used to it from the others. They don’t like me—they don’t trust me. I’m not one of them, so they undermine me every chance they get. But I expected better of you.”

Shan hesitated—there wasn’t a good explanation that wouldn’t hurt him. And he knew her far too well to fall for any of her lies. “I had to play this one close to the chest. It was a delicate matter.”

“And you didn’t trust me to help you.” It wasn’t a question, so Shan didn’t respond, and Isaac cursed under his breath. “I am hurt that you think so little of me, even if I’m not surprised.”

Shan’s heart ached, beating an unsteady rhythm in her chest. “It’s not as if you’ve given me any reason to think otherwise, is it?”

Isaac reached out a hand, then dropped it—an aborted, harsh movement. “I know, Shan. But can I try?”

“Yes,” Shan whispered, “but I’m not—I can’t—just accept you back with open arms.”