The Marshal Is My Mate novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: Page One

Garrick Wexcombe woke at dawn and lay still, afraid to move.

The room was quiet.

There was no hum in the glass and no pressure behind his eyes.

There was only a warm weight against his side, and dark hair on his shoulder.

He had not woken without pain for nine years.

He lay and looked at the ceiling and let himself have it for as long as the sensor allowed.

Then the clerks knocked.

Corin let them in. There were three of them, and they read the cuff's display aloud one after another in careful, uneven voices.

"Tide reading, Marshal," the eldest said. "It's the lowest we have on record."

"Lower than a bonded Sentinel of any rank," the second said. "Lower than a sleeping child."

"Write it down," Garrick said.

They wrote it.

The Director arrived within the hour, with Ansel Corval one step behind her.

She read the sheet herself.

Her mouth went thin, and she read it again.

"The cuff has been checked," she said. "The reading stands. The petition is denied."

Garrick watched Ansel's face.

It did not change at all.

That was what stayed with him. A man who had hoped for a real failure would have looked angry, or looked sad.

Ansel looked patient.

"I'm so relieved for you both," Ansel said warmly. "May I see my husband's uncle for a moment alone?"

"No," Garrick said.

Ansel bowed and went.

Garrick dressed in the next room and left Lucan asleep.

He stopped in the doorway for a minute to look at the long line of him under the blanket.

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