Grand Lord Damien of House Maris

He finished all the letters, including one to House Rafel, in hopes of changing Lord Haruk’s mind. He wasn’t optimistic that the elder grand lord would change his position, but there was always a chance. They would need the healers of House Rafel when the war started. If the empire’s previous campaigns were any indication of what was to come, there would be death. So much death.

Damien rubbed his forehead. Light, what do we do? Can we survive such a war? Or has the time of our demise finally come? He leaned forward and prayed as the fire crackled, warming his body against the cold winter chill.

As he finished his prayers, his thoughts turned toward Selene. He had been avoiding her ever since she had revealed why House Ravenwood had hidden their gift. The very thought of that conversation made his body tense. And writing these letters didn’t help.

Damien stared at the fire. But was she really like her mother? Was Selene capable of the same actions as Lady Ragna?

He didn’t think so.

Still, the very fact that the Ravenwood gift of dreaming had been used in a way so completely opposite of its intention made him sick. House Maris protected people. House Ravenwood murdered people. How could he resolve the two? They were polar opposites.

He leaned forward and placed his head in his hands. A headache was coming on behind his eyes. He knew what he needed to do. He needed to talk to her again. No more avoiding her.

Weeks ago she said she couldn’t kill him. If that was truly the woman she wanted to be, the kind who wanted more from her gift than what her family had offered her, then he should give her that chance. Maybe he could even help her. But he would not know until he asked.

An hour later, Damien found Selene standing in the second-story hallway, the one that ran the length of the castle with windows that overlooked the sea. Her hand was pressed against the glass as she looked out across the watery expanse. Snow fell gently outside, and he could see her breath collecting on the glass with every exhale. Her black hair matched the cloak around her shoulders.

“Selene.”

She slowly turned. He could almost see her shields slam into place. “Damien.”

A small part of him was surprised that she had used his informal name. “I would like to speak with you.”

Her body went rigid, but she answered in a clear voice. “As you wish.”

“Somewhere private.”

She tilted her head but made no comment.

He scanned the hall. The best place was his bedchambers. There they would be far away from listening ears so they could speak freely. “Follow me.”

He walked past her down the hall until he reached the door that led into his room. He pressed down on the latch, then stood back and motioned for her to go first.