Page 79

She rolled her eyes, just a bit more dramatically than usual. “Please, Isaac. Such formalities never suited us.”

“No, they didn’t,” he agreed, as he straightened. He didn’t let go of her hand, though. “Yet still I am compelled to give you the honor you deserve.”

The honor that she did not yet get from others. She felt a slight blush rise to her cheeks, and she let it happen. “You’ve become quite charming.”

His smile faltered. “It’s what’s expected of me,” he said quietly. “I must keep them entertained, after all.”

She squeezed his hand, sympathetic. They would never be good enough to be considered simply on their own merits, would they? They’d always had to be more—more entertaining, more successful, more charming—to simply be considered on the same level as the others.

“Let’s have dinner,” Shan said. “I’ve requested something I hope you’ll like.”

“Oh?” His mask slipped away, revealing the boy she remembered. “And what is that?”

“You’ll see.”

She led him to the dining room, where there was a minimalistic dining set up for two around the corner of one end of the table. It was a lot more casual—and personal—than Shan would dare with almost anyone else. Even she and her brother sat across from each other, on those occasions when they dined together, an increasingly infrequent event.

Isaac, though, seemed pleased by this turn, and settled down at the table. One of the servants entered, carrying a single large bowl, which she set down in front of them. Lifting the lid, she revealed a steaming pile of noodles, vegetables and chicken, all cooked together with spices and broth in one pot.

The girl looked between them, and Shan nodded, and she quickly served them. The wine had already been poured, so she just curtsied and left. It was much simpler than her usual work—one course, one dish.

Nothing like the normal dinners in Dameral.

“Pancit bihon,” Isaac said, with just a hint of awe. “This looks—and smells—amazing.” He leaned over his plate and taking a deep breath, savoring the aromas.

“I’m glad you think so,” Shan said, grabbing her fork and spoon—another deviation from the normal setting.

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” Isaac said sincerely, and Shan felt a burst of happiness inside her, though she’d never admit it.

She simply tucked in.

They ate in companionable silence, despite the important topics she knew that they needed to discuss. But it was nice to simply be able to enjoy a meal, to enjoy someone’s easy company, without having to worry about playing word games or keeping up with a conversation that was more deception than truth, without the calculations that went into every single thing that she did.

It was relaxing, and she almost wished she didn’t have this moment. Now that she knew what it was like, she knew that she would miss it. Such things could not last forever, though, and soon enough the meal was finished, and she had no choice but to usher Isaac into her study, leaving behind the fleeting moment of peace.

There, in her private study, behind the wards she erected as soon as they entered, in the safety of her magic and with a glass of strong whisky in her hand, she turned to Isaac and forced herself to be strong.

“So.”

“So indeed.” He had placed his drink aside right after she had poured it, resting his hands on his knees. “I…”

The words died on his tongue, but Shan didn’t press him. She knew him well enough to know his process, that if she wanted to get to the real Isaac she couldn’t push him.

Pushing him only led him to putting his mask back up.

She sipped her whisky, savoring the burn on her tongue, until he looked at her with sad eyes—regretful eyes. “I made Samuel a promise.”

“Promises can be dangerous things.” She settled down next to him on the couch, her skirts fluttering out so that they brushed, barely, against him. “What did you promise?”

“The very thing I told him from the beginning was not a guarantee.” He reached for his drink then, downing a large amount of it in one go.

“You foolish man,” she whispered, and he flinched.

“I thought you’d understand,” he whispered. “You sent me your notes.”

“I do,” she replied, “believe me, I do. But this is Blood Working beyond the likes of what you and I have ever seen, beyond even what the Eternal King expected. As much as I hope that we can succeed, teasing him with the potential of success only to fail will just hurt him even more.”

“I know,” Isaac growled. Literally growled, and Shan looked up at him in surprise. “But we have to do something. He’s getting better at controlling it, Shan. Soon there will be no reason for the King to wait. Blood and steel, he wants to see Samuel in action.”