Page 49 of Don’t Look Down

“Nothing specific,” he says. “I’ve been taking over various things for my father while he’s been—” He pauses, eyes flitting my direction. Almost as if he’s not sure if he should say what he was about to. He adjusts his grip on the reins. “He’s been busy as well, so I’ve stepped in on a few things. They each come with their own challenges.”

The way he says it makes it feel like that conversation is closed. Maybe when he spends all his time working, he simply doesn’t wish to discuss it when he has free time.

I scramble to find something else to ask him, to fill the silence, when he asks, “When is your birthday?”

The abrupt change of pace throws me off momentarily. “The eleventh of January,” I say. I don’t bother asking him for his. I already know it’s the first of May. Everyone in Doriella knows that. “Why do you ask?”

“With my father’s birthday just passing, it’s top of mind, I guess. I’ll pass it along to Edwin to have it added to my calendar.”

“That’s very thoughtful, thank you. My sister was also a January baby. Two years older obviously, but we often shared joint parties growing up.”

“You didn’t mind sharing?”

I shrug, enjoying the heat of the sun on my face. “We usually liked the same things, so we could always agree on a theme. Plus, it made it easier on my parents to just do one party.”

Lock hums. The horses lumber along, hoofs quiet against the dirt and grass.

“I have always been curious,” I hedge, “if you ever thought it was odd that you were once expected to court and marry my sister, and now it’s me?”

He immediately shakes his head. “We were children.”

“I know, but still.”

“I liked your sister,” he says with unusual warmth, “she was very sweet, and beautiful, just like yourself. But when she had her accident, there wasn’t anything between us except eventual obligations years down the line. So no, when my parents told me a few years later that plans had changed, I wasn’t surprised by it.”

“Did that ever bother you, that you never had a choice in who you’d eventually marry?”

“I could ask the same of you.” He casts a look in my direction.

“I asked first,” I tease.

He grins. “No. I knew what my position meant the moment I gained consciousness. It didn’t, and doesn’t bother me, because it is my duty.”

I’m not sure why I’m disappointed a bit by his answer. Maybe because it sounds robotic, as if he’s been told so much that it’s ingrained into his psyche, kind of like myself. Or maybe because I was hoping he’d peel back some sort of layer with me, out here in nature, away from prying eyes and ears.

“Same here,” I say, denying to myself that it tastes like a lie.

“Do you have any ill feelings toward it? Knowing it would’ve been your sister in your shoes?”

“No,” I say truthfully. “I know everyone was too young when it all happened. And once I knew that the expectations had shifted in my direction after her death…” I look up into the thicket of tree branches with pockets of sun fighting their way through. “It was just all I knew from that point on. And I know Beatrice would’ve wanted me to do as I was told. She was much better about that than I was.”

That makes Lock chuckle. “That sounds familiar.”

A sound catches my attention off to the right. It’s faint enough that I almost wonder if I imagined it. But it’s quickly followed by another. I crane my neck toward the direction and squint. There’s a fence hidden in the row of trees. All I see is green and tree trunks and low hanging branches and…

There it is. A figure dressed in dark clothing with a camera lens trained our direction.

“Lock,” I say, voice hushed. “I think there’s someone over there with a camera.”

Lock barely glances that way. “It’s alright.”

I dart my eyes back to him. He’s a picture of indifference at the invasion of privacy. Although he’s probably used to it. “Should we call someone?” Surely he has a Gabriel on his team he can contact to get them away.

“That’s not necessary,” he says smoothly. “I was aware they’d be out here today. Don’t pay them any mind.”

Now I’m just confused. “Did you tell them we’d be here today?” It’s not like they would just magically know that we’d be out for a ride, especially not on the private land of Lottage Keep.

“Deborah did, and she informed me.”