Page 37 of A Pirate's Pleasure
“What happened to him?”
Lucretius took another sip of wine while he contemplated the question. “Did he drown? Is that what you’re asking?” I nodded. “Nearly. But I was generous enough to rescue him.” He pointed the goblet at me. “I am a very forgiving man. It’s one of my weaknesses.” His brow wrinkled slightly as he considered his own words. “Or perhaps it’s a strength. Maybe I’m being unfair to myself. What do you think? Is forgiveness a weakness or a strength?”
Another question where I needed to choose my answer carefully. “I would say as it’s a rare but admirable trait, that it’s a strength.”
Lucretius puffed his chest out, looking pleased with my verdict. “Yes. I believe you’re right. It’s so easy to bear a grudge, but so difficult to see the futility of holding it and let it go. Many pretend to, but they haven’t forgiven. Not really. You can see it in their eyes. Like your friend. The one you were kissing yesterday, which… is another thing I don’t intend to hold a grudge about, by the way.”
He paused and seemed to wait for something. “Thank you,” I said, Lucretius’ nod telling me I’d gotten it right. “What could you see in his eyes?”
“Does it matter when you’re never going to see him again?”
“Not really.” A blatant lie. “I’m just interested in how perceptive you are.”
“Scars from the past,” Lucretius said conversationally as he pulled out another key from his pocket, balancing the goblet in the crook of his elbow as he set about unfastening the chain from the metal ring. “Regrets. Resentment. Hope. It was all there.”
There was nothing I could say to that as Lucretius wrapped the chain around his wrist and tugged me toward the door he’d left open. “Come. Let’s eat. We can talk more while we do. I’m looking forward to learning more about you.” He led me up a long flight of circular stairs, the air getting noticeably fresher as we climbed. At the top was another door, one he’d left ajar.
“It must have taken you a long time to find a house with a built-in cell.”
No response, even though he had to have heard me. It was perhaps as well when I wasn’t supposed to be antagonizing him. That would take some remembering, though. It was difficult to be relaxed and laid-back when you’d been kidnapped and were being led around by a chain like a dog. Lief would no doubt have found it hilarious and made a comment about wishing he’d thought of it first.
The house had more than a whiff of a country estate about it as Lucretius led me through the door and down a long corridor. Elaborate paintings of people and landscapes covered the walls, while leafy plants added a touch of green to their surroundings. All the doors were closed to the rooms we passed, so it was impossible to tell what lay within them. More harpies? The silence said probably not. There was a stillness within the building that said we were the only people here, which could be a blessing or a curse, depending on how you looked at it.
Lucretius finally led me through an open doorway. A long table filled the room, its surface covered with quite the banquet, comprising everything from drumsticks of meat dripping with juices to succulent bunches of purple grapes.
“Dinner,” Lucretius announced proudly. He pulled me over to the table and urged me into a chair before taking one at a right angle to mine. The chain he left wrapped around his wrist. I held my hands up. “Are these necessary?”
Lucretius propped his chin on his hand and gave me a look that could only be interpreted as fond. “I don’t want you tempted to do naughty things with your magic again.”
Naughty! I’d tried to kill him and he deemed that as naughty. He was forgiving to the point of insanity. It was probably lucky for me he was, or I’d already be dead. “So… you’re going to leave them on me forever?”
Lucretius pulled a flagon of red liquid toward him. He topped up his glass despite it not needing it and then filled a matching goblet to his to the brim and pushed it my way. “Not forever, but certainly for the foreseeable future. I think it will be better, don’t you?”
For you, maybe. I wrapped my hand around the goblet and pulled it closer to sniff the contents. I’d been right about it being wine. Wine was far rarer than ale or rum in the thirteen kingdoms. Far more expensive as well. I took a sip, the rich and full-bodied taste bursting on my tongue.
Lucretius’ lips curled into a smile. “Good, right? There’s plenty more where that came from.” He lounged back in his chair and regarded me from beneath hooded eyelids. “You probably have some questions. Don’t be shy about asking them.”
“Do you live here alone?”
A small sigh escaped his lips. “I do. There used to be others, but…”
“But?”
He grimaced. “We didn’t always get along so well.”
“So they left?”
He laughed, the sound a little too tinny to be genuine. “Yes, they left. I like that version. I’m going to use it from now on.”
“How long ago?”
He lifted a hand in the air and waved it airily. “A hundred years or so, give or take a decade. I stopped counting if I’m honest.”
A hundred years or so. “How old are you?”
Lucretius lowered his lashes flirtatiously. It was a move I recognized from the night when he’d lured me into his trap, because he had. There was no getting past it. He’d gone after me like a predator hunting down its prey, and I hadn’t stood a chance against him. “Do you not like an older man, my darling?”
“I’m not big on relationships full stop.”