Page 87 of Fate

But it wasn’t just a room.

They were rows of houses, all butted up together between the largest building that made up the Hall and the two towers that overlooked it on either side. Firen didn’t ask what those were for. She’d had her fill of towers and the wonder that used to accompany them. The tidy row of houses interested her far more, not dissimilar to the shops she’d seen. Maybe there would be one down below, and they’d have quarters up above. It could be noisy if it was one that sold foodstuffs, but it was exciting all the same.

Only Lucian’s continued hold on her shoulder kept from drifting off the ground.

He let her hold the keys, but only when she relented and gave him the maps to hold with all the papers. Like the change form to indicate where his allowance was now to be sent.

He did not bother to ask where it was being given before.

The only thing that dimmed Firen’s enthusiasm was that Oberon’s relinquishment of tutelage was not amongst Lucian’s files. But that was surely an oversight, and see, there was Vandran’s acceptance letter, and no apprentice was daft enough to take on two masters.

Which was all true and untrue at once.

And there were many hums as the Registrar looked over Vandran’s notations, and she added a provisional seal over the lot of it.

For review.

Which hung over Firen, niggling and warning that she should not grow too attached to anything at all, because she did not trust Oberon to be gracious in his defeat. It shouldn’t matter, shetold herself. The allowance, the housing, it was all a part of his apprenticeship, regardless of who he studied under.

This would be home.

For good, this time.

She set aside the rest of it. She’d worry about it later. Probably late at night when sleep refused to come, and she could do nothing but lie on her side and watch Lucian’s back as it rose and fell and will him to wake so he’d hold her and distract her from all the anxieties that had bundled themselves up throughout the day.

Which he would. The bond that was funny that way.

But he’d grow and grouse and she’d feel guilty for it, and promise him she wouldn’t do it anymore.

A lie, and they both knew it.

Lucian had to lead them, as he had the map. But that was all right, because she was busy looking at everything else. The cobbles that were well maintained. There were no flowers in the window boxes, but there could be. They turned off the street, and he opened a gate. She’d thought it was nothing but an alley, but they passed into a courtyard. Where there were trees and even low benches to sit and enjoy the foliage. It was a bit overgrown, but just enough to suggest that it was by choice rather than neglect.

He shook his head and nudged her to keep moving, and she hurried after him. It reminded her vaguely of the courtyard outside his family tower, and yet... not.

This was bright with sunlight except for where the canopy of the trees grew too tightly, offering welcome shade in the hotter months. Instead of rigid lines of cobbles that gave stiff expectation of walkways to take throughout, there were twining paths of crushed stone, compacted with time and use. Flower borders were already beginning to bloom in yellows and deeppurples, while sage-friend grew up the trunks of the trees in swathes of even deeper blue.

She hoped to spy a neighbour on one of the benches, but it was empty. Quiet, save their own footfalls along the fine gravel.

She’d lost sight of Lucian for a moment, and she turned her head back and forth, only to find him waiting for her in a doorway. Arched, like many were, but with a metal awning, rich with patina and age. “Do you intend to keep me locked out while you wander about?”

Firen flew over, too excited to keep to her feet. Two keys, and she could not immediately tell which was the one to use. Heavy in her hands, and it would be even weightier in her pocket, but she did not mind. She fumbled with it, partly from the thrill of it but also from the lack of practice. It was so rare that her house was empty growing up that they’d rarely made use of latches and bolts. She could not even recall the last time she’d needed a key to gain entrance.

But this wasprivate.Where they had bolts and keys to keep out the rest of the world while they took to their rooms whenever responsibilities allowed it.

Firen fumbled once more, and she did not let Lucian’s sigh trouble her, not when it caught and turned and she could push open the door.

“Oh,” she breathed. “It’s like a proper house.”

Not just a bedroom for them to share. But it opened to a narrow entry, then a kitchen beckoned beyond. Doors were ajar, not locked to suggest they belonged to anybody else. There was a loft above—or perhaps an entire second storey? Where there were yet more rooms, and surely those were let by someone else.

She turned to glance at the map and no, there were not any other names.

It was all for them.

She laughed. A bright burst of relief and enthusiasm. “I thought it was just going to be a bedchamber!”

To which Lucian rolled his eyes and muttered just loudly enough that she could make out most of it. Most of which was about what sort of mate she thought him to be, how they were to take meals if there was no place to cook them, and did she imagine they’d be flying back to her mother’s kitchen whenever they wanted a crust of bread?