Page 63 of The Second Marriage

Sejun read the letter again.Could it be a forgery? He supposed someone could mimic Taral’s writing easily enough, but the reference to the quarry and the dragon—that was Taral’s way of showing him the letter was true. No one else could know of that conversation.

He ran his fingers over Taral’s name. Taral wouldn’t lead him astray. Sejun trusted him as he trusted no one else, even his family—not more but in a different way. He knew Taral’s heart as he would never know another.

My Sejun.

“Will you tell me what you know?” Poplar asked.

Sejun folded the letter and tucked it inside his robe. “Haven’t you used your magic to extract this information from someone by now?”

“It doesn’t work that way. I can tell if you’re being truthful or not, but I can’t read your thoughts. We have a number of people in custody, but most have chosen to say nothing at all, not even to defend themselves.”

Meanwhile Sejun had blathered so much without a second thought. But that was all right: he had said less, it seemed, than Taral wanted him to.

“It was Nirav,” he said, and Poplar’s face tightened with satisfaction. “But I’m sure he’s innocent—he was only used as a go-between, as I was.”

“That’s not for you to determine.” Poplar lifted his eyebrows. “What else could you tell me that you haven’t?” When Sejun hesitated, he added, “What you say now won’t condemn anyone who’s innocent. I’m interested in learning the truth, not in punishing people who have done nothing wrong.”

“There were two other people at the bookshop that day,” Sejun said slowly. “A man named Tarush, who Nirav said was a friend. I had never met him before. He accosted me about the mountain people’s presence in Banuri and said that we’re meddling where we aren’t welcome.”

“Not in itself a treasonous sentiment. Who else?”

“The bookseller. They wore a veil, and I didn’t see their face or learn their name.”

“Yes, we know of them. And you had communication with them?”

“No. They spent a while talking with Nirav, but I spoke with them only to pay for the books I purchased.”

“Very well.” Poplar pressed his fingertips to one temple as if his head pained him. “I’ll tell the king of your cooperation.”

“Taral’s letter said I’ll be released,” Sejun protested.

Poplar gave him a look. “Did it? We’ll see what comes to pass. I’m grateful for the information, my lord.”

CHAPTER29

Sejun stewed alone in his cell. Poplar had lied to him, or maybe the king had lied to Taral; there was no way to know for sure, only that he had thought he would be reunited with Taral and instead he was still sitting here, cold and sore. He wanted to complain about this situation to the guard who came in after a while to refill his lamp, but none of the guards would speak to him even to answer simple questions, so there was no point.

His one consolation was that Taral, above him in the palace, was much less stressed and on edge than he had been. But maybe he simply hadn’t yet realized that he had been lied to.

Some quantity of time went by. Sejun slept as much as he could, which had become his strategy for dealing with the intense boredom and isolation of his imprisonment. He resigned himself to dying here in the bowels of the cantonment. Perhaps they would return his desiccated corpse to Taral some years from now.

He woke from a doze when the door opened. His lamp had guttered low, and he squinted into the brighter light pouring in from the corridor. Someone stood at the threshold. The bond sang to him, and even before his eyes adjusted he knew it was Taral.

“Sejun,” Taral said, and Sejun scrambled to his feet and flew into Taral’s arms.

It was so good to be close to Taral again and smell his scent and feel the warmth of his body. Sejun closed his eyes as Taral embraced him and dropped his face to Taral’s shoulder. He could hardly believe Taral was here. They hadn’t been apart for so long, but it was longer than Sejun ever wanted to be away from Taral ever again for all the rest of their lives.

Taral drew back after a few long, blissful moments. “Come. It’s time to go.”

Sejun choked down a sob of relief. “I’m free to leave?”

“Yes, dear one,” Taral said, and kissed his forehead. “You’re being released.”

A guard led them through the cantonment. Sejun followed Taral in a stupor. The swift reversals from hope to despair to relief had left him bewildered and numb. After so many days in his dim cell—how many days had it been? Surely at least a month—the sunlight in the courtyard outside made his eyes water. He stopped dead and clutched at Taral’s sleeve, disoriented and half blind.

Taral took his hand. “Are you unwell?”

“The sun is bright,” Sejun said. “No, let’s keep going. I’m well enough.” But he didn’t let go of Taral’s hand until they were in their room with the door closed.