   That night, I didn’t have to force myself to stay awake because I couldn’t sleep. Once it had gotten dark enough, I got a hold of the oil lamp sitting on my drawer before slipping out of my chamber. As I have been doing for the past month, I walked through the hallway and headed up the stairs to the Lord’s room.
   Who is Sawyer? The question was on the tip of my tongue, but I had promised myself not to ask the Lord that. I saw how upset it made him on our ride back to the castle. I didn’t want to see that expression on his face again, even though curiosity was clawing at my chest. I knocked on the Lord’s door. Once, twice and when he didn’t answer at the third knock, I let myself in.
   The door creaked open, and the first thing I saw was the Lord sitting on his bed, looking through papers. Troy was laying at his feet. The dog raised his head, and Lord Evenus turned to look at me.
   “I didn’t hear you…” he trailed before the room fell into silence. “Did you knock?”
   “I knocked,” I muttered, closing the door behind me.
   “Oh, that’s alright,” the Lord said, looking away from me before putting the papers in front of him away. I wondered what he was looking through. I knew the Lord also did the bookkeeping for the castle, but I had a suspicion those papers had nothing to do with finances.
   “Come join me,” the Lord muttered, scooting a bit before tapping the space beside him. I opened my mouth, but I didn’t have anything to say. A sigh left my lips before I nodded and went to the drawer to drop my lamp.
   Troy got off the bed, and I made to climb in. Crawling into bed with the Lord made my chest squeeze up even though I’ve done it a few nights a week for the past two fortnights or so. When I had settled in, I turned to find the Lord staring at me. His gaze was deep, and his brows were furrowed. It seemed like he was trying to read me for something somehow, but I didn’t know what.
   He reached out a hand to touch my face before brushing back the hair by my ear. I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath as I felt my heartbeat against my ribs.
   The covers made a sliding noise as the Lord came closer to me. He pressed our foreheads together before closing his eyes. I didn’t close mine. I watched as a series of expressions play on his face as he took deep breaths. He hadn’t shaved in a while, so his stubble was back to cover his strong jawline.
   “Is something the matter?” I said, feeling my voice shatter the silence as if it were delicate glassware.
   Lord Evenus didn’t say anything to me, he remained silent. He leaned off me soon after, but he took my hand in his, squeezing it as he hummed under his breath. I noticed the bags under his eyes when the moonlight caught his face as he moved a bit.
   He hasn’t been sleeping in a while. I bit my bottom lip at the realization. I wondered what was on his mind, but I didn’t think it was my place to ask. I would just have to wait for him to share his thoughts with me.
   “Manfred, do you know what my first name is?” I tried to think about it, but now that I thought about it I had never heard anyone call the Lord by his first name, not even his guests did. I knew Evenus was a family name—but the Lord hadn’t been related to the last Lord Viscount of Barcombe.
   I shook my head, and the Lord gave me a small smile as he rubbed the base of his thumb over my knuckles.
   “It’s Bennett,” he said, looking out into the room like it was strange to hear his own name.
   “Will you call me Bennett?” He asked and I froze. I couldn’t even drop his title without being uncomfortable. I didn’t think I could do that.
   “Sir Bennett?” He seemed to offer in a whisper.
   I bit my bottom lip, trying to taste the words on my tongue. “Lord Bennett,” I repeated. Even though my voice had shaken the Lord seemed to be pleased. He reached out to cup my face before pulling me into a deep kiss.
   He pulled away from me after a while, taking the time to caress my cheek before turning to look towards the exit to the balcony.
   “I told the Count to send some clothes over to the castle for you when he gets back,” the Lord said. I didn’t say anything, my free hand just reached to grab the nearest thing possible, which was the covers over me. “It should arrive before I have to leave for a campaign, and you should be able to get something to wear in case we ever do attend that party Agnes is throwing.”
   I remembered that. She mentioned the party ever so often when the trio was spending time together.
   “Thank you.”
   “No, thank you,” the Lord said, turning to face me.
   “I’ve been seeing Agnes’ doctor for years but none of his advice really works. Hypnosis from India. Strange herbs that make me want to sleep for hours. Blade wounds around the scalp—nothing really helped. I still got nightmares.” The Lord said as a small smile touched his lips. “Then you started coming up to my room to be with me through my night terrors. I go to bed now feeling strangely safe. It’s a nice change of pace. I used to be afraid to sleep.”
   “You haven’t slept in a while, though,” I said, looking at him. He stared at me, and I stared back. “I can see it in your eyes. You haven’t slept much in the past few days.”
   The Lord shut his eyes. “It’s the memories.”
   A part of me told me he meant memories from war—his night terrors, but the weird juxtaposition with what he had said before made me believe that wasn’t the case. He was talking about different memories. Memories he hadn’t shared with me.
   I licked my lips. “I hope you’re okay,” I said, watching as he sighed and brought my hand to his lips for a kiss.
   “I am fine for the most part, but there are few things more surprising than memories you’ve buried years ago colonizing your thoughts,” he muttered. An image of Alistair flashed in my mind. I knew what he meant by that. Maybe a little too well.
   We both remained quiet as the sound of the wind outside filled the void of silence that was left. Troy whined in the background but quieted down.
   “Are you okay?”
   A shiver ran through me at the Lord’s words.
   “I’m not sure,” I muttered, feeling his index finger poke at the center of my palm. “All this should overwhelm me, but yet…” I trailed, turning to face him. I couldn’t tell him about Alistair. I couldn’t tell him about how all the memories I had selectively forgotten were coming back. I couldn’t tell him that sometimes when I looked at him a rush of guilt filled me. Was it okay to move on even after Alistair? My paranoia had been the end of him. Did I deserve to try something like that again?
   I’m not sure what it was, but the Lord had a numbing effect on my fear—like a pain killer. Slowly, but surely, I had stopped praying again. My anxiety lessened and my thoughts hyper-focused on the man in front of me. I couldn’t help that his bold ignorance of consequence of the sin at hand didn’t give me courage.
   “But yet…?” The Lord repeated, waiting for me to finish the sentence I had started.
   My eyes fluttered to him, but they looked back down at our joined hands. I let out a sigh, feeling the need to tell him.
   “I killed a man,” I started looking up at the Lord. His eyes had gone wide, but they soon narrowed at me, trying to search mine for an explanation.
   “I was seventeen, and I started seeing a boy…” I trailed, before nibbling my bottom lip. My heart was beating fast, and cold sweat was forming on my temple. “We got caught because I made noise and panicked,” I continued, licking my lips. “I lied about it and put all the blame on him. I—” My voice was cracked. I couldn’t say anymore, even if I wanted to, but I tired, parting my lips and willing for something to come out. Gasps escaped my lips, and nothing more.
   The Lord was staring at me. His face was expressionless and numb. I wasn’t sure what that meant. Did he blame me? Was he horrified? We both knew what happened to lay folks convicted of sodomy. I didn’t need to say anything for him to understand the severity of my cowardliness.
   “We make mistakes,” he said in a soft voice as he reached out to touch my cheek. “And sometimes our fear consumes us.” He gave me a small smile, brushing back my hair before leaning forward until our lips touched. We kissed, and I gasped when I reached out to lean me back on the bed.
   Something told me he was trying to give me an easy way out of talking about what I had just confessed to. I understood that. It was heavy and delicate, and I understood the want not to relive mistakes by uttering them.
   I let out a soft muse when Lord Evenus moves to hover over me. His hair fell, covering most of his face. He had his legs on either side of me, and his breathing was loud.
   “Do you know what is happening, Manfred?” His question made freeze for a bit. He lowered himself hugging me to his chest. I looked over his shoulder, staring up at the Bed’s canopy as my heart raced. I reached out to hug him. My grip was tight, holding him through the silk shirt he had on for bed. My face flushed as I felt my lower halves touch.
   “Yes,” I mumbled, watching as the Lord pulled away from me. He stared into my eyes, touching my lips with the tips of his fingers.
   “Very well,” he muttered, slipping his hand up my nightdress. The hairs on my body stood, and my blood warmed up at the feeling of his hand on my skin.
   I was in bed with Lord Evenus—no, Bennett.
   Bennett was his name.
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