State of Sorrow (Sorrow #1)(42)

The bones in her legs turned liquid then, and she sat back on her knees, her hand slipping from Charon’s grasp.

“But it’s over now. We both swore that once I had to become chancellor, we’d end it.” She could hear her voice becoming shriller and shriller. “Please don’t punish him. I’ve already hurt him so much. There’s no real harm done. No one knows. No one ever will. Charon, it’s over. If you heard us you know that. He can’t stand me now.” The words felt like a knife in her chest, twisting, as fresh tears threatened to fall. Sorrow’s eyes were wide, pleading, as she met the gaze of the vice chancellor.

“I have loved you as a daughter,” Charon said. “To my detriment, it seems. I’m not going to have you arrested. Either of you. The country finding out the chancellor’s daughter has been having an affair with the Rhyllian queen’s nephew would be the final straw.” He paused. “Rasmus is to go. Immediately. Back to Rhylla, and neither of you is to speak to, nor contact, the other again.”

He reached out, leaning forward to cup her cheek. “I should have paid more attention,” he said. “Does Irris know?”

“No.” This time the lie was instant. “No. She would have been furious. She would have told you.”

“That’s something, at least. And I don’t see that she needs to know. No one does. It will remain between us. I’ll go to the boy and send him away, and that will be the end of it. After tonight, we won’t speak of it again, and we will act as if it never happened. Get some rest.” Charon withdrew his hand from her face and placed it on his wheel, turning it sharply. “Tomorrow is going to be a long and hard day and I need you to be ready for it.”

Sorrow nodded, watching him as he glided across the floor.

“Cover the painting before you leave,” he called from the doorway. “We’re going to need it tomorrow. Oh, and Sorrow?” He kept his back to her. “Is there… Is there any possibility you’re with child?”

“No,” she replied, the skin on her face and chest burning. “We were careful.”

He paused, and Sorrow had the sense he might say something. But then he nodded, and wheeled himself away.

She covered the painting and made her way slowly back to the Goldcrest wing, her legs leaden, her heart a rock inside her chest.

When she reached her room her gaze fell on the balcony doors, still open, the curtains billowing gently. She crossed the room and shut the doors, closing them against the stars, the cool night air, and the possibility of a life that she could never have.


She was woken by a cool hand on her forehead, and opened her eyes to find Irris Day leaning over her. The room was still dark; Sorrow didn’t think she could have been asleep for more than an hour.

“Your father is here,” Irris said softly.

Sorrow struggled to sit up, rubbing her eyes. “What time is it?”

“It’s a little after four.”

Sorrow was right – she’d finally tumbled into bed at three. Her head muzzy; she stretched, shivering at the chill in the predawn air.

“And Rasmus has gone.”

She was fully awake then, her head whipping around to meet Irris’s concerned gaze.

“You didn’t know?” Irris read her friend’s expression.

Sorrow nodded slowly. “I knew he was going. Your father heard us. Arguing, late last night. About my becoming chancellor. He realized that we’d been…”

Irris sank on to the bed beside Sorrow, her mouth open.

“He’s not going to punish us,” Sorrow continued, surprised at how calm she sounded. “Or tell anyone. But Rasmus is banished and I’m never to see him again.” Her voice cracked as she finished.

Irris said nothing, gently rubbing small circles on Sorrow’s arm.

“I told him you didn’t know,” Sorrow said. “You’re safe.”

“I don’t care about that,” Irris replied hotly. “I care about you.”

Sorrow leant against her friend. “I really hurt him, Irri. He said I never let him in. And he was right.” Sorrow paused.

Irris lowered her forehead to Sorrow’s shoulder. “Oh, Row. I’m so sorry.”

Sorrow’s throat tightened, and she willed herself not to cry. What right did she have to be upset, when this was all her doing? She should have been honest from the start, the moment he’d started hinting at a future. She shouldn’t have slept with him last night; she should have told him what had been decided. She’d behaved like her father, burying her head in the sand and ignoring the issues at hand. This was her fault.

She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, screwing them shut, until the tears were driven back. Once she was sure they were gone, she cleared her throat. “Enough. We have Mael to deal with. Where is my father now?”

Irris straightened. “In his rooms, changing. And … Harun knows.”

“He knows?” Sorrow stared at Irris. “About Mael? How? I wanted to be the one to tell him.”

“He arrived with Balthasar. And Samad told Balthasar, who obviously told your father.”

Sorrow swore. “So what do we do?”

“My father wants to meet with the chancellor before he has chance to see Mael, or whoever he is. Hence the very rude awakening. He wants the whole Jedenvat, and you, there.”