"Lyra!? What are you doing here?"
Kylian had frozen on the threshold, then put the knife back in his belt. The young woman who stood there, wrapped in a worn cape whose edge was fraying.
"Lord Kylian, I..." Her voice broke.
"Come in then... Don't stay there. You know full well that the walls have ears." He cast a quick glance into the deserted corridor. He seized her wrist and drew her inside.
Lyra hesitated a second, her clear eyes scrutinizing his face. But seeing Kylian's clenched jaw, the serious gleam that darkened the gaze of the carefree noble, she nodded and stepped through.
The room was entirely basic for a noble even if in reality, the young master of Hansen County had paid for the best room. It was of a deceptive sobriety. The fireplace cast orange glows on the walls. A large four-poster bed, with white linen sheets, occupied the center. Near the window, a sofa and a mahogany low table held a carafe of water, a nearly consumed candle.
Kylian cleared his throat a little, with all this time in his trainings, he had done nothing and did not even know if Lyra's entire family had been wiped out and so, he felt a bit ashamed.
"Sit down," he said, pointing to the chair near the fireplace.
Lyra obeyed, but her fingers toyed with the fringes of her cape, and her eyes fled from his. He held out a glass of water to her.
"I am truly sorry... I could do nothing to get you out of this situation. But being accused of heresy is a crime that even the dukes fear being involved in. I blame myself terribly." He crouched in front of her. "I have worn out my nights imagining you chained, burned... I spent hours going over impossible plans of what I could have done... So seeing you there, alive, is a relief..."
Lyra raised her head, her eyes misting. A tear slid down her cheekbone, then another. She was so fragile, so exhausted, that her entire body seemed to collapse.
"I know it is not your fault, Lord Kylian. I..."
"Shhh."
He placed his index finger on her full lips. Then he embraced her, pressing her against his chest. She felt the warmth of his muscular body, the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in weeks, she was no longer afraid. Nothing more comforting than the warmth of the loved one when everything else is ice and darkness.
The sobs spaced out... Then she fell silent at last.
But Lyra knew she could not stay. Every minute at his side was a sword hanging over her head, and over his as well. She gently pulled away, wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, and took a trembling breath.
"Lord Kylian, I must confess something to you... I care a great deal about you, and I do not want to put you in danger."
"You do not need to think too much for the moment. Rest. Tomorrow, we will discuss it."
He spoke with that quiet authority that made him so captivating. In his former life, Kylian had strung together conquests with a cynical nonchalance, hunting pleasures the way a hunter tracks game. But what made his popularity with the female sex was this way he had of treating each woman like a queen, of offering her the illusion of being unique. He was loyal in his own way, a man one could count on, at least as long as one did not seek to look under his masks at his true intentions.
"Lord Kylian..." Lyra's voice grew firmer. "My father was truly guilty of the accusations."
"Huh!?" He straightened, his eyes widening.
'Shit! Will our county be suspected because of this liaison?'
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Until now, he had believed in a plot against the baron. After all, low blows between nobles were common currency. But truly guilty of heresy... If Lyra's father was really a follower of the demonic god Erebus...
'Now I understand why all his former allies have distanced themselves.'
Lyra lowered her head, her fingers twisting the edge of her cape. She saw in his eyes that gleam of dread. A part of her hoped, madly, that he would reject her without cruelty or that he would accept her despite everything. But she would not blame him if he drove her away.
"Indeed, my family has always worshipped the demonic god. My father was an influential member of the sect. When the truth came out, he mobilized other faithful to help me flee."
"I see... So, do you have a place to go?" he asked finally, coming out of his stupor.
"I will try my luck in the Duskgate dungeon. According to my father, there would be an inheritance there..."
'Duskgate... It is the dungeon I coveted. If she knows of its existence, her father was indeed a high dignitary of the sect. He crossed his arms, deep in thought.'
"A dungeon is a perilous place. You will need equipment, provisions... money."
"I..." She lowered her eyes, ashamed. "If you could simply lend me a few coins, I swear to disappear. You will never see me again, I will no longer disturb your life."
Silence settled, heavy and oppressive. Lyra felt her heart beat to the point of breaking. In the waiting, she imagined the worst: a slap, an order to clear out, or worse still, denunciation to the authorities. She had taken an insane risk in coming here. After all, he was only her lover and a womanizer... The greatest libertine of the nobility. What was she really worth in his eyes?
But Kylian, for his part, weighed the pros and cons, his gaze lost in the flames.
'Even if the sect is weakened today, it will know a dazzling resurgence in the years to come. Their roots plunge deep into the history of the kingdom. If I manage to insert myself into their circles, it could be a major political lever... It is a risk, certainly. But risk is the salt of all ambition. In any case without power and without cheat, I risk my life every day.'
He came out of his reverie when she knelt, hands joined, face livid.
"Lord Hansen... Help me, this time, and I will be nothing more than an old memory. And disappear completely..."