“Is it practicing your craft that tires you so?” Tanzi glanced around, trying to decide where to sit. The bag containing her clothes—what she now thought of as her “princess kit”—was on the chair. With a feeling somewhere between apprehension and euphoria, she joined Lorcan on the bed, primly maintaining a distance of about twelve inches between them.
“Yes. The mental energy required to commune with the dead drains my strength, and then there is the emotional toll. What did you want to ask me?”
Even though his eyelids were drooping with tiredness, he still managed to look utterly adorable. It was very unfair of him. It made concentrating on anything else extremely difficult. “I thought that when the dead were raised they became zombies preying on human flesh. Yet Iphae returned to her coffin peacefully and, in the end, accepted—even welcomed—her death.”
“It’s a common misconception. Zombies are undead who are raised against their will. Iphae came to me of her own free choice and, although I suggested she should return to the other side and even exerted some pressure on her to do so, it remained her decision.”
“Do you ever raise the dead against their will?”
“I try not to. Inevitably sometimes I have to, but it’s a messy business. Zombies are a bugger to deal with. My turn to ask you something now.” His eyes were probing on her face. “What was so bad back in Otherworld that this is better?”
The question was so unexpected that Tanzi gasped. Yet she should have been expecting it. Especially now that they suspected someone was passing their secrets on to the sidhes. “Do you think I am the one who betrayed you?” She tried to keep her voice level so that the hurt didn’t show.
“Funnily enough, that never even occurred to me.” He closed the distance between them, catching hold of her hands. “I trust you, Tanzi, truly I do. I just thought perhaps it was time to tell me. Because, and maybe I’m wrong, I sense it eating away at you. I know we’ve been over the fact that I’m a lowly necromancer, you’re a royal princess, and we’re worlds apart many times, but I want to help you if I can.”
Her throat felt suddenly tight, as though his kindness had triggered a warm emotion that was threatening to choke her. She nodded. “Let me get a drink and I will tell you.” She owed him the truth.
Rising, she went over to the dresser and poured a glass of water from the bottle Maria had placed there. She kept her back to Lorcan as she drank, attempting to restore some of her lost equanimity. When she felt that her composure had returned sufficiently, she turned around. A slight smile touched her lips at the sight that greeted her. There would be no confidences tonight. Lorcan was stretched full-length on her bed, sound asleep.
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