Chapter 1 – Reunion

“Be careful with that,” Valentina instructed a young servant who was lifting one of her chests too hastily. It was the chest that contained the Eye of Deceit and her forbidden books, carefully wrapped in waxed leather and hidden in a false bottom.

“Of course, my lady,” he muttered, blushing.

It was still early, and the morning hung heavy and grey over Bridgewater, but she had been wide awake since she saw the ducal carriages rolling up.

Then, finally, the door of the ducal carriage opened, and Duke Cosimo himself appeared on the step. With a curt wave of his hand, he dismissed the servants. They bowed and withdrew discreetly.

“Valentina.” His voice was warm, deeper than she remembered. It seemed to her that the duke had gained weight since last summer, but perhaps her memory was playing tricks on her. His beard was carefully trimmed, but definitely streaked with more grey than a year ago.

She saw genuine joy in his expression, but also that possessive gleam in his eyes that she knew so well. He held out his hand to her.

“Your Grace,” she curtsied formally, but he was already pulling her energetically up the steps.

“Let’s skip the formalities,” he murmured as soon as the carriage door closed behind them. “We have months to catch up on.”

The interior of the carriage was as magnificent as she remembered it. Deep burgundy velvet upholstery, a small table with a carafe of wine and two silver cups, heavy curtains that could be drawn to protect them from prying eyes, and surprisingly spacious, almost like a small room on wheels.

“The duchess is traveling in the second carriage,” Cosimo explained as he sank into the cushions and pulled her down beside him. “With her first lady-in-waiting, Lady Beatrice. I thought we might have a lot to talk about after all this time.”

It was not a question, but a statement. Valentina felt Vyxara’s amused warmth in her mind.

“He couldn’t wait,” the demon purred. “Look how he’s literally trembling with anticipation.”

“I missed you too, Cosimo,” Valentina said honestly. It was the truth, however complex her feelings might be. The months in Bridgewater under the Illuminator’s tyranny had taught her to appreciate the security Cosimo’s protection offered. And if she was honest, she had missed his company too, his sharp intelligence, even his demanding nature.

He smiled, a genuine smile that deepened the wrinkles around his eyes. “My clever girl. Come here.”

His hands found their way into her hair, pulling her toward him. The kiss was instantly familiar, his taste of expensive wine, the way he held her neck, firm but not rough. Valentina returned the kiss without hesitation, sighing as she sank against him.

The carriage jolted into motion, but they hardly noticed. Cosimo’s hands were soon everywhere – on her breasts, her waist, wandering under her skirts, deftly untying the lacing of her traveling dress.

“Too long,” he murmured against her neck as his manhood impatiently entered her. “Far too long without you.”

Their union was urgent at first, almost desperate. Months of separation were unleashed in hasty kisses and impatient thrusts. Valentina let it happen, letting herself be carried away by his passion. She didn’t have to pretend for him, because her own longing surprised her with its intensity.

“You missed this more than you’re willing to admit,” Vyxara remarked with warm satisfaction.

The carriage rocked gently on the road, adding its own rhythm to their movements. Cosimo was demanding at first, but when he spilled into her after only a short time, the initial urgency subsided and he became more tender. His kisses slowed and his touches became gentler, almost worshipful.

Afterward, they lay entwined on the wide cushion, only half-dressed. Cosimo lazily ran his fingers through her hair, letting the chestnut strands slip through his fingers.

“Master Lucian kept me informed about Bridgewater,” he said quietly. “About the Illuminator. I should have intervened more forcefully.”

“There was nothing you could do,” Valentina replied, her head resting on his shoulder. “Not without political complications.”

He grunted in agreement, but she could sense his dissatisfaction. Duke Cosimo Greystone was not used to being powerless. And he didn’t like it.

“You did well,” he said finally. “Professor Whitehall wrote to me about your outstanding achievements in medical applications.”

“You’re having me watched?” It wasn’t an accusation, just a question.

“I’m having people look after you,” he corrected, kissing her forehead.

They were silent for a while, listening to the clatter of the wheels on the road. Then Cosimo sat up and poured wine into silver cups for both of them. The red wine was excellent, probably older than Valentina herself.

“Here’s to a wonderful summer,” he toasted.

Valentina clinked glasses with him and snuggled up to him again. It was strangely cozy, this intimacy in the rolling carriage, shielded from the world. She was aware, of course, of the transactional nature of their relationship. His protection in exchange for her company, his generosity in exchange for her availability. But there was also genuine affection between them, however complicated and unequal it might be.

“You’ve developed a fascinating dynamic,” Vyxara observed.

Cosimo pulled her closer, loosely wrapping his arm around her waist and sinking comfortably into the velvet cushions.

The carriage rocked gently, and Cosimo’s breathing became deeper and more regular. He had fallen asleep, his arm still around Valentina’s waist. She stared at the padded ceiling of the carriage and let her thoughts wander.

It was impossible not to think about it. The memory still burned on her lips. Innogen’s kiss, desperate and tender at the same time. Three nights had passed, but the moment haunted her relentlessly.

“You can’t run away from it forever,” Vyxara murmured gently in her mind, then the demon tactfully fell silent.

~

“Now you understand,” Innogen had whispered.

Valentina stood frozen, her mind completely blank. The kiss, Innogen’s soft lips on hers, the taste of tears and despair, it all echoed through every nerve in her body.

Slowly, Innogen pulled back, just a few inches, her blue eyes desperately searching Valentina’s face for… what? Disgust? Rejection? Reciprocation?

The silence between them stretched out. Valentina’s thoughts raced, insights bombarding her one after another.

All the little moments. Innogen’s hand lingering in hers for a heartbeat too long. The way she sometimes looked at Valentina when they were alone. The subtle tension when Valentina talked about her carnal affairs. The strange sadness in Innogen’s eyes when Valentina talked about her plans for the future.

“I…” Valentina opened her mouth, then closed it again. The words wouldn’t come.

“I’m sorry,” Innogen blurted out, but her hands still held Valentina’s. “No, that’s not true. I’m not sorry. I had to do it. I couldn’t… I couldn’t go through with this engagement without you knowing the truth.”

The words now poured out of her like water through a broken dam, hastily and breathlessly. “I’m in love with you. Since early in our first year here, if I’m being honest. I was never really interested in boys, and my mom always said it would happen eventually, but I wasn’t so sure. And then I came to Bridgewater, and there you were, and you were so… wonderful. So brilliant. So determined. So different. And then it just happened.”

Her voice broke. “I watched you fall in love with Crispin, or at least I thought I did. And then I felt so pathetic because I was so grateful that you weren’t in love with him. Then there was that thing with Professor Horne.” A bitter laugh. “I was so jealous, can you imagine? Jealous of that disgusting old man because he was allowed to touch you.”

Valentina tried to speak, but Innogen continued as if she were afraid she would lose her nerve if she stopped.

“And then the duke. Cosimo Greystone, with all his power and charm. How could I compete with that? A spoiled nobleman’s daughter with nothing to offer but a pretty face and an old name.” Tears ran down her cheeks, but she didn’t wipe them away.

“But then…” A glimmer of hope flickered in her eyes. “You told me about Lady Celestine. That you were with a woman… that you weren’t uncomfortable. For the first time, I thought, maybe, just maybe…”

She fell silent, looking at Valentina with her face full of fear and hope. “And now I’m supposed to marry Lorenzo. A good man, you say. And you’re probably right, he surely is a good man. But he’s a man, Val. And my heart…” She placed a hand on her chest. “My heart belongs to you. It always has.”

Valentina felt her throat tighten. “Innogen, I-“

“Don’t say anything you don’t mean,” Innogen pleaded. “Please. I can’t stand false kindness. Not from you.”

Valentina took a deep breath and forced herself to find the right words. “I love you,” she said finally. “You know that. You are more important to me than almost anyone else in this world. But…” She hesitated, searching for honesty without cruelty. “I don’t know if I can love you the way you need to be loved. The way you deserve to be loved.”

Innogen’s face showed pain, but also a strange relief. “At least you know now. After all these years of silence… at least I said it.”

“Your timing is impossible,” Valentina said quietly, smiling apologetically to take the sting out of her words. “The engagement is decided and parliament is coming up. Your father would never…”

“I know,” Innogen interrupted imploringly. “Do you think I don’t know that?”

“But no matter what, it won’t change our friendship,” Valentina said firmly.

Innogen laughed, a broken sound. “That’s the point, Val. I hope it does. I hope…” She fell silent, then whispered, “I hope that maybe one day you’ll feel the same way. Is that crazy?”

Valentina felt torn. She didn’t want to hurt Innogen, but she couldn’t and didn’t want to raise false hopes either. “We need time,” she said finally. “Time to think. Both of us.”

“In Vandercourt,” Innogen said. “We can talk in Vandercourt. When we’re both at parliament.”

“Yes.”

“Just promise me one thing.” Innogen’s voice was little more than a whisper. “Don’t shut me out. Whatever you decide, whatever you feel or don’t feel… don’t shut me out of your life.”

“Never,” Valentina said emphatically. “I promise you that.”

Innogen nodded, wiped her eyes, and straightened up. For a moment, apart from her tear-stained face, she looked like the perfect noblewoman again.

“I should go,” she said. “It’s late.”

She walked to the door but paused on the threshold and turned around once more. The expression on her face – vulnerable, frightened, uncertain, yet full of desperate hope – burned itself into Valentina’s memory.

“Good night, Val.”

“Good night, Innogen.”

The door closed quietly. Valentina sank onto her narrow bed, her legs suddenly too weak to support her.

“Well,” Vyxara said after a long pause, “that was… unexpectedly intense.”

“You knew,” Valentina accused the demon. “You knew all along.”

“I had my suspicions,” Vyxara admitted. “But even I was a little surprised by the depth of her feelings and the intensity of this outburst. The poor thing has been suffering for years.”

Valentina buried her head in her hands. What did she really feel? She loved Innogen, no question. But was it the kind of love Innogen needed?

She thought about her lovers. About Cosimo with his dominant manner that aroused her, the attention of his inner circle that she had enjoyed. Lorenzo with his gentle longing that had moved her. About Hobkin with his easy charm. Mostly it was men who attracted her, especially those with a certain confidence.

With Lady Celestine, it had been different. Pleasant, yes, even exciting in its own way. But it hadn’t triggered that burning desire, that greed she felt with Cosimo.

And Innogen? Innogen was… Innogen. Her best friend. Her confidante. The person she could trust with almost anything. But was there more? Could there be more?

“You’re asking yourself the wrong questions,” Vyxara remarked gently. “The question is not whether you could love her. The question is whether you must love her in the same way for it to be worthwhile for both of you.”

“Have I ever loved anyone? Can I even love?” Valentina thought silently in the darkness. “Whether man or woman?”

“Oh, my sweet, spoiled little Weaver,” Vyxara purred. “Of course you can love. You just love… selectively. And pragmatically. But that doesn’t make it any less real. You may not love any specific man, but you certainly love what they do to you.”

Valentina knew that everything had become more complicated now. Innogen, who loved her, was going to marry Lorenzo, who loved her and who was the son of her lover. She herself would continue to be Cosimo’s mistress. And somewhere in between, they had to find a way to deal with this new truth between them.