   “When I was six and ten, I joined the army of the viscount of Barcombe, Lord Evenus,” the Lord started, and I licked my lips, waiting for him to continue.
   “As you know, Barcombe has never made it obligatory to serve in the army. I was six and ten. I had just lost my parents, and I needed food and shelter, so I joined them for pay,” the Lord said, picking the book on his lap. He didn’t look like he was reading it. It seemed like he just needed something to hold. The little light from my lamp was enough to see his trembling fingers. Whatever he was going to tell me meant a lot to him, so I prepared for impact—squeezing my hands into fists on my lap as I took in small breaths.
   “I expected to die within the first few fights. It was winter, and it was every man for himself when it came to supplies,” the Lord continued, looking up to catch my gaze. His scar looked almost orange under the light flames. The bow of his lip was drawn thin when he gritted his teeth and let out a sigh. “Lord Evenus helped me. He took care of me when the other men wouldn’t and made sure I was in safe positions where enemy tropes wouldn’t have access to me when we fought. He was two and twenty then. A young Lord that has inherited his title from his recently deceased father.”
   “He was very different from me, but he was also the same,” Lord Evenus muttered. “He’d lost his last relative just a few months ago. His parents were dead and fighting in a proper battle was new to him even though he had practiced with his father and mentors. His family has also been Protestants, just like mine.”
   The Lord paused as if expecting me to ask questions at this point. I remained quiet, leaving the bedroom void of noise. The Lord got up from his armchair, and the seat creaked as he moved to the study table at the other end. I watched him light a candle, letting it join my lamp in the task of lighting up the room.
   “My plan at first was to take my pay and leave. Maybe invest the money somehow and go from there,” the Lord said as he sorted through the books on his desk. “But when I did leave, I couldn’t contain myself. I kept thinking of the Lord. I wanted to see him again. I’d fallen in love with him,” he said, and I gritted my teeth, looking down at the carpet on the floor.
   “Then I had asked myself, how do I see Sawyer Evenus again?”
   My chest tightened up and I could feel the sweat form at my temple. Sawyer had been the former Lord of Barcombe. I was just too young when he died to remember anything but the family name Lord Evenus now carried.
   Lord Evenus turned to look at me. His scruff has grown into a beard, and his hair had become longer. He hadn’t been concerned with appearances this last few weeks and it showed.
   “I enlisted for his army again. It was nice to see him, and he treated me well again. We became closer, and after the raid he let me live in the castle with him. He taught me how to read and write. He made me come with him to balls and meetings. I became his right-hand man,” Lord Evenus sighed, taking. deep breath.
   “I did not confess my affection to him until I was eight and ten. I used to be afraid that if I confessed, he would be disgusted with me, and maybe even offer me to the church for punishment. But as I learned more about him, the less I felt he was likely to behave like that, so I confessed,” he said. “He accepted my confession,” he added.
   “For months, I, Timothy Bennett, was the happiest I could ever be. Lord Evenus treated me well, and I fell in love with him even more,” Evenus muttered before covering his face with his hand. It looked like he was trying to hide his tears. “Later that year Sawyer told me he would get married in the future. His betrothed was a young girl. He told me she would have to grow up first, and that we still had many years together,” Lord Evenus said.
   “Lady Agnes, you know her, don’t you? The woman that came with the Count. I use her doctor,” the Lord muttered. I nodded. I hadn’t said anything since he started narrating his story to me.
   “He was supposed to marry Agnes when she grew up?” I asked, and the Lord nodded, heading over to the windows. He pulled them open, letting the white light from the moon filter in.
   “The Count feels somewhat responsible for what happened to me and Sawyer.”
   “Of course, we still had over ten years together, but I was upset that Sawyer would even think of marriage. My heart was heavy, and I hadn’t recovered from my shock even when we went into battle in the coming winter,” Lord Evenus said, sighing a bit before pushing strands of his hair back. He walked over to the bed, before sitting down beside me. He still looked restless. His eyes darted from one end of the room to the other as he clenched his hands into fists from time to time.
   “I didn’t pay attention when we fought. My head was still in the clouds. The blade came out of nowhere—” The Lord paused, turning to look at me. He was heaving, and his eyes were glossed over with unshed tears. “I got slashed in the face and I fell off my horse,” the Lord muttered. “We were fighting on a slope. The ground was rocky, and the stones were small and sharp. They got into my armor as I rolled, cutting into my skin.”
   The slash on his face and wounds on his torso made sense now. I sucked in my breath, trembling at the thought of it.
   “Lord Evenus should have kept fighting, but he came to help me.” The Lord leaned forward, covering his face with his hands. “Of course, as the person in charge enemy tropes were desperate to get to him. If you could get the leader you confused the whole fold.”
   My mouth felt dry, and my whole body felt numb. I didn’t know what to say. The room remained silent for a few minutes as the Lord shed silent tears. His breathing was irregular, and I reached out to touch his shoulder, wondering if his night terrors could pop up on him even when he was awake.
   “Lord Evenus got attacked and killed. I wanted to help, but I was blocked off by older soldiers in the fold who immediately took charge when the Sawyer fell and started bleeding from his head.” The Lord’s features tightened as he narrowed his eyes at the door. “Somehow, we didn’t lose that fight, but we lost Sawyer. His body was retrieved from sight days later.”
   “I thought that was the end, and I wanted to retire to mourn Sawyer in obscurity, but I was reached out to by the Count who told me that Sawyer has left everything to me. His title, his castle, his people—everything.” Lord Evenus coughed, choking from the tears he had attempted to hold back.
   He blinked back, getting a hold of himself. “That’s how I became the Lord of Barcombe,” he said, and I could only nod.
   “My night terrors are from that…” he explained, even though I had figured it out. “Watching Sawyer’s beautiful green eyes widen with shock as his neck got cut into by a knife will remain fresh in my memory,” he said, clasping his hands together.
   “I tried to move on. I continued his family’s Legacy. I slept around with other men. At some point, I tried to get Agnes to marry me so that I would have the children Sawyer had wanted to continue his bloodline, but we found out she couldn’t bear children—she had no menstrual cycle of any sort. Every other woman I met after that distressed me, so I stopped looking,” Lord Evenus continued.
   “I tell myself that I try to move on, but deep down I know that’s not true,” the Lord said. “Every time someone starts to mean a lot to me, I break down and retreat into the past,” Lord Evenus muttered and I swallowed the spit that had pooled at the back of my mouth.
   “However,” he started, reaching out to hold my hand. He gave it a squeeze, making my eyes flicker to him to catch him smiling. “You’re the first one of those people that I’ve wanted to tell all this to,” the lord said.
   “I’m happy you told me,” I muttered, looking down. I was still a tunic over a pair of hose. I had been so restless this night that I hadn’t even changed into a nightgown.
   My lips twisted into a smile as the Lord’s eyes grew soft. I reached out to touch his face. My brows came together in a frown. The Lord’s face was heating up, not out of embarrassment but… a fever?
   “I think you should rest,” I said. “When was the last time you slept,” I asked as Lord Evenus closed his eyes and hummed into my touch.
   “Three or so days ago,” he muttered, reaching out to hold on to the hand I had on his cheek. His beard was brittle under my touch. He kissed my wrist before I pulled my hand away from him.
   “You need to sleep,” I told him, watching as his tired eyes observed me. “And eat. When was the last time you ate?” I asked, feeling the blood drain from my face when he said breakfast.
   “You have to rest,” I repeated, getting up before forcing him into bed. He didn’t resist much, making it easy to position his large figure before pulling a light cover over him.
   “I’ll go get a warm rag and some tea,” I muttered, heading to leave the bedchamber.
   He’d gotten sick, just like a Marie had said he would.
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