The Ivory Rite

Chapter 32

Part of me wants to take Toryn into the darkest corner I can find, and at first that's exactly what I plan to do.

Then I come to my senses.

I have every right to speak to him about business, and no right to be interacting with him personally. This realization leads me to abruptly abandon our trajectory toward a dark servant tunnel and drag him straight into daylight.

Although I don't want to, I painstakingly unlace our fingers, dropping his hand. "Follow my lead," I tell him under my breath as we step out and into the ruins of the ballroom. After all, that's why he's come—to take on the rebuild. No one will question our presence here.

He seems to understand, falling several steps behind me as I address the White Watch patrolling the area. There is a small station of them tasked with securing the portion of missing wall, day and night. They'll need to do so until the outer wall is fully rebuilt. 

"This is Toryn Gaffer," I tell the man who steps to the front of their pack, relieved to find that I don't recognize him or any of the others. Before my unveiling every face was familiar. I could place a name with each and every one of them, their numbers kept small with my secret. Now they swarm and most of them are strangers, which is better for me. Less familiarity means more privacy.

"He is going to be designing the glass portion of the rebuild," I continue. "We'd like to take a look around." The nameless leader doesn't get a chance to answer me.

"Your Majesty." Liefteanant Bryant Dillon approaches from around an outside corner and I curse under my breath, the advantage of disinterest vanishing. If Adair is Thane's right Hand, Dillon fills the same role for Adair.

He stops in front of me and bows, not needing to say a word. The man who appeared to take charge before his appearance has already retreated. There's a specific hierarchy within the White Watch, and from what I've observed it seems to be more complicated than pure rank. I make a mental note to pay more attention to who submits and who takes control.

Dillon eyes Toryn warily, so I repeat the introduction. "Liefteanant Dillon, you remember Toryn Gaffer from Court?" He nods once, the acknowledgment perfunctory.

"Yes, I do." His tone holds no promise of friendship.

"He's come to undertake the glass design for the rebuild," I tell him, shooting Toryn a reassuring look, one he doesn't seem to need. He stands beside me casually, showing no signs of reaction to Dillon's deep undercurrent of hostility. It would knock most people off their feet, but he seems unaffected.

Good, I think. He's going to need a thick skin to survive here.

"Dara Belmont made me aware of the arrangement before he left," Dillon tells me, his attention now fixed on Toryn. He seems annoyed by Toryn's lack of nerves. I'm sure his mention of Adair is purposeful. He's giving me a clear message:

I'm watching you.

Adair will receive a full report from him, as I already expected. Still, being watched is better than being spied upon, caught somewhere we aren't meant to be.

"Wonderful," I say, fixing Dillon with a smile devoid of sincerity. "I'll let you know if we need anything." It's a dismissal, and one he doesn't misinterpret.

"The men have done their best to clear the rubble, but it's still quite dangerous. Perhaps I can accompany you through the ruin," he says, taking a step forward.

"I'll let you know if we need anything," I repeat, my tone frosty.

He's bold, but not bold enough. Nodding once and backing away, he rejoins the other men. I glance at Toryn once we've moved a safe distance away from them, closer to the cliff's edge. I find he's watching me with intent, his casual demeanor replaced by a heavy seriousness.