State of Sorrow (Sorrow #1)(116)

“Say it…” He took another step, bringing their eyes level. “For me?”

“You’re not going to shut up until I do, are you?”

He shook his head.

“Fine. I missed you.”

His lips curved into a wicked grin and Sorrow laughed. His gaze dipped, resting on her mouth, and the mischief lighting his eyes faded, becoming something else.

“You should get back to your party,” he said slowly, meeting her eyes once more. “It’s been over an hour. You’ll be missed.”

He let go of her hand, and Sorrow’s palm tingled at the loss.

“Yes, you’re right,” she said, filled with the urge to clear her throat. “What will you do?”

“No idea.” He frowned. “I can’t go home. I guess I’ll hide out somewhere until we have a better plan. Fortunately for us, evading capture is in my blood.” He paused. “Sometimes, at least. Let’s hope I have better luck than my father and brother.”

“Do you need anything? Money, or…”

Luvian shook his head and reached into the same pocket he’d pulled the bottle from, revealing a large gold pocket watch. “You hate Lord Balthasar, right?”

She laughed again, and his face contorted, moving between smile and frown.

“I should—” he began, but was cut off by the sound of a door banging. The outer door to the corridor.

Sorrow turned to Luvian in panic. “Hide,” she hissed, throwing herself on to the bed. Luvian dived under it, and a moment later, when Irris and Arran Day, followed by a contingent of guards, flooded the room, Sorrow sat up, blinking and rubbing her eyes.

“I only meant to lie down for a moment,” she said, thickening her voice.

The guards shook their heads and filed out, muttering to themselves, and Arran looked at his sister, who shrugged, before leaving too.

Irris waited, suspicion clouding her features, as Sorrow swung herself off the bed.

“What’s going on?” Irris asked, once the door had closed behind them. “Why are you really up here?”

Sorrow crossed the room and picked up the make-up compact with Lamentia in. Silently she handed it to Irris, and watched as comprehension dawned on her friend’s face.

“This is Lamentia. Why do you have this? Where did you get it?”

Luvian crawled out from under the bed. “Behold my redemption arc,” he said.


Irris somehow managed not to scream, and Sorrow and Luvian explained, in rapid tandem, how he’d come to be there, and what he’d learned.

“You have to tell my father,” Irris said immediately.

“That’s what I said,” Luvian agreed.

“No. Not yet. There’s something going on between Mael and Vespus. That’s who I was looking for when Luvian found me. I think maybe they’ve had a fight? But whatever it is, I don’t want Vespus to know what we know while there’s still time for him to fight back. I want him to think he’s done it, and then I want to confront him. I don’t want him to have time to plan, or run.”

Irris nodded slowly. “That makes sense. In that case, perhaps wait until after the election?”

“Yes,” Luvian said, his eyes lighting with a spark that Sorrow knew meant he was scheming. “That way, if you lose – not that you will – but if you do, you still have a way to discredit Mael, because of his connection with Vespus. You can still defeat them both. It’s a back door. And I love a back door.”

“Talking of which, shouldn’t you be finding one?” Irris said. “We need to return to the party before someone else comes looking.”

“You’re right,” Luvian said.

“So, after the election, we tell Charon about Vespus and Lamentia, and then confront Vespus?” Sorrow said.

“Agreed.”

They left Luvian in Sorrow’s rooms, returning to the party and mingling. Sorrow went out of her way to greet everyone, apologizing for her absence, summoning staff to supply drinks and canapés to the people she spoke to. She saw Luvian a little later, trying to sneak out, only to be furnished with a tray and sent into the crowd, and she tried to smother a smile, even as a frisson of alarm went through her. But no one recognized him, or even looked at him, hidden as he was by the camouflage of his servant’s clothes.

She remained in the gardens until the last guest had left, waving as a local justice and her husband wandered tipsily towards the gates. Irris, Arran and even Charon had long since retired, and so Sorrow was alone, save for her guard as she returned to her suite.

She washed, and changed into her nightclothes, her childhood bed feeling unfamiliar now. As she lay on the pillow something rustled beneath her cheek, and she reached inside the pillowcase to find an unsigned note, telling her to watch for the “handsome moustachioed chap in red” at the Jedenvat presentation.

She smiled at the note, smiled into the dark. Luvian hadn’t betrayed her. And he was back. Somehow, it meant the world to her.


Four days later, Sorrow waited inside an empty classroom in the University of Rhannon. Based in Istevar, the university was one of the oldest parts of Rhannon, established over seven centuries ago. It was Sorrow’s first time there. The classroom was large, with wooden benches and desks set in a tiered semicircle around a small stage, where she now paced.