He couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t lift his face from his hands, could not even mutter an apology to her. He felt her cross the room. She took her candle with her, and when she left, the light diminished by half. The door shut firmly.

He sank into his bedding. There. It was done.

He’d just destroyed the last good thing in his life. His friendship with Alise was gone, shattered by what he and Hest had done to her. It shamed him now to think that he’d ever suggested such a marriage to Hest, even when he was in his cups. It shamed him more that he’d allowed Hest to follow through on it. What would it have taken to stop it? One call on Alise to inform her quietly of Hest’s true intentions? Of course, that would have betrayed what he was to her. And possibly brought misery crashing down on him then and there. Hest would have cast him aside. No doubt of that. And found a way to discredit him completely.

Why was it only now that he could admit how ruthless the man could be? If he were back in Hest’s presence for an hour, if Hest threw a casual arm across his shoulder, or made Sedric his evening’s companion for food and theater and wine, would he forget and forgive him? When Hest focused on him, when Hest was in full howl as he rampaged through any city in search of entertainment and mischief, then he could make Sedric feel as if he owned the world. To be Hest’s chosen companion for a night of raucous play was the most invigorating, heady rush of exhilaration that Sedric could imagine. Even now, in the depths of his despair, a sour smile came to his mouth as he recalled such evenings.

Arm in arm with Hest, surrounded by cohorts of well-dressed friends, they had stormed public houses and theaters from Chalced to Jamaillia. When Hest wished to, he could charm the most recalcitrant tavern owner into keeping his doors open and paying his minstrels for an extra hour. With that suave smile and a scattering of coin, he could procure the best tables, the finest seats in the playhouse, the best cuts of meat, and the finest wine. And people always smiled as they gave it to him. People who only knew his public face found him charming and gracious and witty. To be his companion at such a time, to be his chosen, preferred companion was to be toasted and honored right alongside Hest.

The smile slowly faded from his face, leaving only the bitterness. Never again. Never again would he be publicly lauded alongside Hest.

Never again would he be privately belittled and humiliated as the price of those hours.