Martin stood up from his chair, trying to move around. The book Navir suggested was huge, or else he would have read it while walking to keep from sitting down for so long, but the tome was too heavy. Navir suggested looking toward the end of the book, but he had read halfway until the ending, and never saw anything about it. He had already spent far too long reading and needed to return for dinner, but he promised himself he’d start reading from the beginning tomorrow. And if it wasn’t in the book, he’d ask Navir again.
Martin got into his carriage, riding home. The city was quiet. Everywhere he turned there were nervous looks and whispers. Some were leaving with carriages and carts, braving the dangers of the main road during a time of war to get out of the city. One didn’t need to be a war general to know Santollia City was Kiam’s next target. And many people didn’t want to be trapped behind its walls when they came.
Martin covered his head in his hands, his mind going through all the things Kiam could do. Surround the city, keep supplies from going in or out, starve them out. Burn it to the ground and everyone in it. Enter the city and kill the High Elders. They had a skeleton army here in the city, making sure every last man could fight at the battle.
Well, almost every last man. Martin let his mind settle briefly on Indenuel before it was far too sad. In a way, he blamed himself for how Indenuel ended up. He kept dark secrets from the boy, and Indenuel had every right to be angry at Martin.
The carriage stopped in front of his house, and Martin got out, heading for the door. Derio opened it, giving a bow. “Welcome home, Martin.”
“Thank you, Derio. Is everything in order?” Martin asked.
“Sara has kept the house running well,” Derio said.
Martin nodded. “Of that I have no doubt. She is a smart woman. Keep listening to her.”
Derio smiled. “Very well, Martin. Dinner is already finished, but Sara has kept a plate for you. Where would you like to take it?”
“My study is fine,” Martin said.
“I shall alert the staff at once,” Derio said.
Martin went down the familiar path to his own study, the room that had become the only room in the house for him the past couple days. He sat down at his desk, right as the staff entered with dinner.
“Thank you kindly,” Martin said as he picked up his fork and began eating as soon as the staff left. He didn’t bother saying a prayer over it. Nicolas had probably blessed it in his absence.
Martin pulled out a book of philosophy, turning a few pages to see if that could help him on his quest to getting his powers back. He doubted it. The only real books that could help him would be in the High Elders library, but he still had to try.
He finished his dinner, and the servants took it away. Martin thanked him before he stood up, pacing his study. He could do that with this tiny book. He had been sitting down too long.
There was a knock on the door, and Martin slowed his pacing. “Come in.”
Sara walked in, closing the door quietly behind her. Martin couldn’t keep himself from feeling the alarm at seeing her. Their last encounter did not go well. Despite all that, he remembered that she was his wife, and he was a nobleman. He shut the book and bowed. She curtseyed in response.
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"How may I help you, Sara?” Martin asked.
Sara folded her arms, looking uncomfortable. Her eyes flickered to the bookshelves, reading the titles there. “Inessa is doing a lot better. She has made surprising progress in only three days. And she… she let slip what you did. Or, rather, what you haven’t been doing the past three days.”
Martin set his book down on his desk. “She must have told you what I almost did on that first day, though. Right?”
“She must have hurt you quite bad to finally knock some sense in you,” Sara said, the hint of hurt in her voice.
Martin said nothing. He remembered the truth of that night, how he was certain he saw the devil himself watching what was going on. Somehow it was the realization of the literal Hell he had created for the girl that brought him to his senses. He tried not to shudder, thinking that even Inessa’s punch wouldn’t have been enough to stop him.
“Something like that,” Martin said.
Sara finally met his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“A nobleman does not go around proclaiming his good deeds. It’s what I taught my boys.” Martin looked away again. “Though I should have done this a long time ago. You must keep this to yourself. If Navir found out, he would take her away and give her to Fadrique.”
Sara nodded. “She still needs to get pregnant?”
“Yes. By next month. And I don’t know how to tell her,” Martin said.
“I think she already knows. You’ve given her time. It’s what she needed,” Sara said.
“But you?” Martin asked. “How do you feel about it?”
Sara glanced at the door, the neutral look on her face turning into a frown. “I don’t like it. I never have. But there is some tree gossip going around, about what High Elder Fadrique does with his concubines. I try not to believe it, but… but the stories are there. You are a good man. And if the poor girl must be with one of the High Elders, I would rather she be with you. You have proven in these three days that you care for her far more than the others would. And… and that’s what I’d want for Inessa. For her to be with us.”
Martin nodded, trying to smile. It still meant he’d have to get her pregnant, and even with Sara’s permission, it still made him gag. But Sara was right. If he had the choice, he would rather Inessa stay with them. “I don’t think either one of us wanted this. If I had known that this would have been the result of the concubine law, I would have fought it harder. I would have-” Martin paused, looking again at Sara’s face. The concubine law was created in part because of the Warrior project, and he was made aware, again, that he was hiding dark secrets from his wife. If he really was on the path to making things right, he should tell her. But there were too many dark things tied up with the Warrior project. Too many things he wasn’t yet prepared to let Sara know. “-I would have at the very least made sure the High Elders shouldn’t have… shouldn’t have slept with young women. That there could have been a way to help them financially without…”
“That would have been a good idea. She is a smart young woman. Riel has been very impressed with how quickly she’s learning.”
“Oh, good, she’s still taking lessons with Riel?” Martin asked.
“Yes. She’s almost learned all her letters. We’re all proud of her.” Martin tried to smile, but it had been a difficult thing to do in the past few days. Sara noticed it. “You were made High Elder at such a young age. A part of me was afraid you were too young and that the High Elders tried to mold you into what they wanted, instead of letting you be yourself.”
Martin’s mind went back to Indenuel again. If he had been too young at thirty-seven, Indenuel was practically a child. And this, a marked individual locked in the dungeon, is what they had to show for it.
Sara smiled, before giving another curtsey. “I’ll go make sure things have been cleaned up.”
“Thank you, Sara. Thank you for keeping this house in such order,” Martin said as he bowed.
“I take my duties seriously.” She left, and Martin kept his gaze toward the door. There were still so many things wrong. He had a lot to do to make himself a better man, but he had to start somewhere.
He was starting to pace again when the door opened without a knock. He looked up to see Sara walk in with a bowl of custard. “We had it for dessert tonight, and I noticed you didn’t get any.” Martin placed his book again on the desk before taking the bowl from Sara, too surprised to say anything. “The stress is getting to you, I think. Your robes are somehow getting even more baggy. You need to gain some weight. Stay healthy.”
She said little else, simply turned and left the room. For the first time in a long time, Martin felt his smile reflect the genuine feelings of his soul, and he ate some of the best custard he ever had.