She gave his hand a squeeze. ‘I might need your help this time. Are you up for it?’

He squeezed back. ‘Always.’

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

There was so much on his mind that Satyendra was almost back to his own chambers before he realized his mistake. This room isn’t mine any more and Rochant has no reason to go this way. Idiot! I might as well have the word ‘imposter’ tattooed on my forehead. Luckily, he knew where Lord Rochant’s rooms were, as he’d been taken there in the past as part of the alignment process. None of his entourage questioned the sudden change in direction. After all, a little disorientation was to be expected after a rebirth.

It struck him that, in a way, his life would not change that much. He’d still be pretending most of the time, and if people found out the truth about him, he’d still be destroyed. However, in one very big way, things had changed: for as long as he could convince people that he was Lord Rochant, he had all the powers of a Deathless Lord at his disposal. And he intended to make swift use of them. So, instead of resting, he turned to the most senior member of staff present. ‘What is you name?’

‘Win, my lord. Do you not remember me? I was still coming into my beard when we last met.’

Satyendra peered at him, and then feigned fondness. ‘Win? Ah yes, you were bright as I recall, full of promise.’

The man beamed. ‘You said so to my father.’

‘Indeed I did. It is pleasing to see I was right. Now, Win, I need you to summon all of my hunters, their apprentices, and the senior staff, but quietly. I don’t wish the other guests to know what we’re up to.’

‘All of them, my lord? In secret? It will be difficult. Very difficult.’

‘But not beyond your abilities.’

Win swallowed. ‘No, my lord.’

He felt like he needed time alone, but that didn’t seem a very Deathless thing to ask for, so he said: ‘I will be bathed, changed and prepared by the time you’ve gathered them.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

Win’s nerves began to stir the hunger, but were not enough to satisfy it. ‘One more thing. I wish to keep with tradition. Honoured Mother Chandni should not be disturbed today.’

He would have to face the challenge of his mother’s scrutiny at some point, but the longer he could put that off, the better.

The next hour passed pleasantly enough, as he was scrubbed, massaged, scented, combed, and painted. Then they wrapped his body in soft silks. He was careful to pick out things that matched what he’d heard of Rochant. Simple cuts, with fewer layers than the other Deathless favoured. Ahh, to never clean or dress myself again! It is no wonder the Deathless have so much energy.