State of Sorrow (Untitled #1)(112)

“Luvian!”

He had the nerve to smile. “I missed that. Sorry,” he added hastily when she glared at him, one hand on her hip, her eyes narrowed. “He’s fine,” he assured her. “He’ll be fine. Besides, I had very little choice. It’s not like I could have made an appointment to see you. Most of Rhannon is on the hunt for me.”

“What did you expect after what you did?”

He frowned, and his hand moved to his pocket. Sorrow gripped the letter opener tighter, but all Luvian did was pull his glasses out, sliding them on and blinking until he focused on her. “I didn’t do anything. In fact, it’s what I didn’t do that’s the problem. But let me tell you about Beliss first, that’s more important.” He paused, waiting for her to nod her agreement, before continuing.

“After I ran, I disappeared into Rhylla. I went to Beliss’s house, like we planned. I … I thought if I could get her to admit Mael was an imposter, you’d forgive me.”

“Did you get her to admit it?”

“She’s dead.”

Sorrow hadn’t expected that. She leant on the desk, her mouth open. “Her too?”

“Quite,” Luvian said. “That makes Corius, Gralys and Beliss. The only three people, besides Vespus, and Mael himself, who might possibly have proven it was a lie, are dead, all within the last few months. Coincidence, no?”

Sorrow shook her head. Of course it wasn’t a coincidence. Vespus. He had to be behind it, tidying up loose ends, in case anyone went looking.

“So there’s no one, save Vespus, who knows the truth? We can’t prove it. He’s got away with it.”

“Yes… But I think I’ve answered another question. It concerns him. And I do have proof. Or at least, evidence that can’t be ignored.”

Sorrow raised her brows.

He took a step towards her, pausing when she brandished the letter opener in warning. Moving slowly, he crossed to one of the tall-backed chairs and sat on the arm. “I met some Rhyllians, in the woods, while I was trying to decide whether to come back to tell you about Beliss. Youngish nobles, on some kind of camping-cum-hunting trip. They either didn’t know who I was, or didn’t care, and to be honest, I didn’t care either, so when they invited me to join them around their campfire, I did. We ate, and then someone got a bottle out. Starwater. And … I tried it. I’m not proud,” he said quickly. “But things were a bit bleak. You hated me; my glorious plan to win you back was in tatters. So I had some. And I promptly passed out, and woke up about four hours later to find I’d had a nosebleed in my sleep, and everyone else was unconscious too.”

He reached into his pocket and took out a glass bottle, standing and crossing to the desk, placing it between them. It was small, the base round, and there was a white powdery substance crusting the bottom, and marking a tideline around the long neck.

Her hand darted out for it, snatching it back. Careful not to look away from him, she pulled the cork from the top. The smell hit her at once, that acrid, sweet burn that caused pain to lance through her skull, making her eyes water. Lamentia.

She held the bottle at arm’s length and he took it back, replacing the cork she’d dropped on to the desk. Her headache began to ebb, and she stared at Luvian.

“This was what the Starwater was in. I drank from this very bottle. But when I woke up, it looked like this.” He held it up so she could see the white powder residue. “My guess would be that the alcohol in Starwater evaporates over time, when it’s exposed to air, and this is what’s left. It’s Lamentia, isn’t it?”

Sorrow nodded, unable to take her eyes from the bottle.

“Which means Vespus, as the only farmer of the Alvus tree, is the person behind Lamentia and introducing it to Rhannon. It can be no one else. He’s behind Lamentia. Technically, he killed your father.”

She’d forgotten about Lamentia since Harun had died. It seemed it had vanished from Rhannon. She blinked, his words ringing in her ears as her brain caught up with them. Vespus had given Harun Lamentia. Vespus had made him an addict. Vespus, Vespus, always Vespus, making the world into a circle so it didn’t matter where you turned, there he was, always ahead, always following. Sorrow wasn’t naive enough to pretend Harun was much of a father, or chancellor, before Lamentia, but after…

She’d been right, back at the Summer Palace. He’d brought Mael back, and then killed Harun so he could move him into place.

Luvian was watching her with wide, hopeful eyes.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Sorrow looked up at him. “How can I trust you, after what happened? For all I know you’ve added Lamentia to some old bottle and you’re saying it’s Starwater to – wait—” She stopped as she remembered something. “Come with me,” she said hurriedly. “Don’t try anything stupid, just walk with me.”

Luvian gulped, but nodded, putting the bottle back in his pocket as Sorrow palmed the letter opener, so the blade lay flat against her wrist.

Sorrow gave him a searching look and then made her way to the library door, opening it. Luvian followed her, back along the corridor, into the main hall, and up the staircase. He kept his head down, trying to keep up with Sorrow, who’d practically broken into a run.

“Walk in front of me,” she ordered, and he did, listening to her whispered instructions of where to go.