In the royal archive room, candlelight danced over the ancient tomes and painted murals on the ceiling. Sebastian stood by the high window, arms crossed, cloak still damp from the storm earlier that evening.
James entered quietly, closing the door behind him.
"I thought you'd be avoiding me," he said, voice tinged with sadness.
Sebastian didn't move. "I thought you'd be angry."
"I was," James admitted, walking across the room. "But only because I thought you didn't trust me."
"I didn't want to put you in danger."
"Sebastian," James said, stopping just behind him, "I was born in danger. Loving you isn't what puts me at risk. Lying to me does."
Sebastian turned finally. His face was tired — not from lack of sleep, but from the weight of holding too many secrets.
"I was ordered to watch you," he confessed. "By the Emperor. From the beginning."
James flinched. "So I was just another mission?"
