Page 40 of A Tower of Half-Truths
Twenty-Four
Alain hadn’t seen this side of Leyport since he was a child.
In the city’s southwestern district—he couldn’t even recall its proper name—few streets were paved with cobblestones, and lampposts were an even rarer sight.
Moonlight filtered through the tattered linens spanning from tenement to tenement, casting patches of blue-white light over the garbage-strewn alleys.
The carriage stopped in front of a dilapidated boarding house that Alain could only assume was similar to the one he and his mother had lived in once; he’d been too young to retain any memories of those days.
“So, this is where you’ve been staying,” Alain said uneasily, peering through the carriage’s window. His gaze passed from the boarding house’s grime-streaked bricks to its barred—yet still cracked—windows on the ground floor. “It’s…homey.”
Mavery laughed. “Sure, for a hovel.”
“Your word, not mine.”
He opened the door, then hopped out of the carriage and onto the dim street. He turned to Mavery, offering her a hand.
She laughed again. “You don’t need to do that. We’re barely ten feet from the door.”
“I know I don’t need to.” He inched his hand toward her. “But I want to.”
She rolled her eyes, but then laid her hand atop his and allowed him to escort her the dozen or so steps from the curb to the top of the stoop.
Here, the only light was the low flicker of the lantern hanging by the front door.
But even these dismal surroundings couldn’t detract from Mavery’s beauty.
Her eyes were vibrant as ever, her nose was slightly pink from the cold, she still had a trace of powdered sugar on her bottom lip…
Alain’s thoughts were once again taking him down a path from which there would be no return, and so he instead forced himself to study the lantern.
Its fuel source was not Elemental magic or even gas, but oil, as though this building were stuck in the tenth century.
He doubted there was even a lick of magic on the entire city block, save for whatever Mavery used to secure her bedroom.
She’d once mentioned that she’d started placing protective wards after awaking to a drunken brawl outside her window.
“I assumed your wages would afford something nicer,” Alain said. “Perhaps I’m more out of touch with the local economy than I thought.”
“Oh, I definitely can afford something better than this, but when I first arrived in Leyport, I had no plans of staying long-term. All I wanted was a place to rest my head.”
“But those plans have changed, yes?”
She smiled. “They have.”
“Then why continue subjecting yourself to this?” He pointed to the front door, with its dubious lock and rusty hinges. “You ought to live somewhere more comfortable, safer…”
She squeezed his shoulder. He glanced at her hand, then focused on a patch of dirt on the wall directly behind her. At least, he hoped it was only dirt.
“Trust me, Alain, this is a palace compared to some of the holes I’ve stayed in. Besides, I can handle myself.”
“I know you can, but…”
I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you, was at the forefront of his mind.
But he couldn’t speak that thought aloud.
Not after he’d already crossed so many lines tonight: agreeing to come out with her, revealing more about himself than he told most people, holding her hand in the middle of a dense crowd.
“It’s really not so bad,” she said. “I would give you the grand tour, but my landlady is very strict about her ‘no men allowed’ policy.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it, then.” Alain suppressed a shudder as he gave their surroundings another cursory look. “Well, I suppose this is good night.”
“I suppose it is,” Mavery said, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. For a moment, they both stood perfectly still while expectation hung heavily in the air between them.
Alain had no choice but to let the moment pass. He clasped his hands behind his back and gave her a short bow before turning and descending the stoop.
“Wait.”
He turned to her again. From the top step, Mavery peered down at him with a heavy brow.
“I’ve been meaning to ask…” She took a deep breath. “You’ve kept me around despite knowing about my past, despite knowing why I sought you out in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, but I’ve been wondering…why?”
Alain hesitated, recalling the words she’d spoken shortly after reviving him. In the days since, he’d replayed those words countless times:
I decided you were worth more to me than any potential score.
“Because, in the end, you chose me,” he said. “That alone means more than you could ever realize.”
She opened her mouth but seemed unable to speak—a sensation he knew too well. Before his own emotions got the better of him, he turned around.
“Good night, Mavery,” he said over his shoulder, then climbed into the carriage.
As the vehicle pulled away from the curb, he hazarded a glance out the window, but she was now too distant for him to make out her expression.
The driver’s clicking tongue cut through the clacking hooves and rattling wheels.
“You should’ve kissed her back there,” he said.
Alain wanted to tell the driver that, while a not-so-small part of him was in complete agreement, he couldn’t cross that particular line. He knew all too well that nothing good would come of it.
Furthermore, he wanted to scold the driver for eavesdropping on a private conversation. And in addition to that, he hadn’t asked anyone for romantic advice—especially not someone who looked young enough to be one of Alain’s first-year students.
But instead of articulating any of that, he shut the window between his and the driver’s seats. He spent the rest of the trip home stewing over his thoughts in silence.