William swallowed the disgust and guilt that had clung to him since the night of the argument.
He had been impulsive and cruel; His Highness did not deserve such accusations. But the prince's decision had put him in a situation he would never have wanted.
If Ballard had called off the vote, he would not even have had to consider Nikolas's blackmail. But now he had no choice…
"If Nikolas betrays us, we lose."
And how likely was that to happen? The man William had known at the Academy had never seemed so possessive or vindictive, but perhaps it had always been an act.
Or perhaps William had hurt him deeply enough to change him.
"But if I do nothing… will they cast me out?"
He leaned back against the armchair and brought his hands to his face. What was he supposed to do? Tell Nikolas the truth or hope for good fortune?
He could not even speak to the prince about it. He was certain His Highness would not appreciate learning about his relationship with Nikolas.
They would argue again, and William did not want that.
"Maybe I can try to make Nikolas see reason."
The vote would take place the following day; there was no time left.
The corridors were wrapped in the shadows of night; few servants remained, busy extinguishing candles before retiring to bed.
William knocked on the door, waited for permission, and entered.
Nikolas was seated at his desk. The faint candlelight illuminated his face and highlighted the freckles.
He looked up at him, but his expression remained neutral. "What do you want at this hour?"
William closed the door behind him and stepped closer. "The vote is tomorrow."
"I know."
"I need your vote, Nikolas."
Nikolas stopped writing, set the pen on the desk, and interlaced his fingers. "Have you decided to be honest?"
"I can't give you what you're asking for."
"Then our conversation ends here."
"For the spirits' sake, you can't do this to His Highness!"
"Why not? He's obsessed with you. I'm beginning to think Ballard might be right that you're influencing him."
"That's not true, and you know it."
Nikolas shot him an angry look. "I don't know anything!"
He rose from the chair and leaned closer.
"I believed you were an honest and sincere man, yet you keep treating me as if I were an insect. Have you ever cared about me at all? Or have you always just pretended?"
"What the hell has gotten into you now? Until recently, you were kind and reasonable, and now—"
"What's gotten into me is that I found out what you were doing," Nikolas hissed.
"What are you talking about?"
"You sold your body to other people while being with me. Wasn't I enough for you? Didn't I give you enough?"
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"They told me you took payment for sex and for good grades. Those rumors were already circulating when we were both at the Academy!"
"You can't believe them, Nikolas. You can't think this of me, after everything we've been through."
"I'm not thinking anything! That's why I asked you for the truth." Nikolas came around the desk and grabbed him by the arm. "I want to know why you left me and stopped looking at me. You owe me that, William. I have to know who I fell in love with."
"I had my reasons. I'm not obliged to tell you."
"Fine. I'm not obliged to vote for you."
"Would you rather I lose? That he hates you?"
"Still better than being considered less than nothing." He released his arm. "I had almost managed to forget you before you came crashing back into my life. If you leave, it will be better for everyone."
"But not for His Highness. Don't you think about him?"
"Alex must marry and please the nobles if he wants to rule, yet he thinks only about how to get you into the Council's good graces. And that's not good—this obsession with you will lead him to ruin."
William clenched his fists. "You're truly a fucking terrible friend."
"I'm a friend who thinks about his position. You, on the other hand, are ruining him." Nikolas gestured toward the door.
"Leave. If you don't want to tell me the truth, we have nothing to discuss."
"I need your vote."
"And what will you give me in return?"
William hesitated and swallowed the anger and shame tightening his throat. He hadn't the faintest idea how he had ended up in that situation—but what else could he do?
He had to remain at court, no matter the cost.
He sank to his knees before him and bowed his head. Trembling hands went to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one until he revealed his pale chest, covered with hickeys and bites.
Nikolas pressed his lips together, a flash of irritation flickering in his eyes. "You have a lover, and you'd sleep with me just to stay here?"
"Yes."
"You have no respect for other people's feelings! I bet you didn't even when we were together."
"You're leaving me no choice."
"That's not true! You could tell me the truth!"
"I can't!" William bit his lip, forcing himself not to tremble. "Do you want to fool yourself into thinking you have me for one night? Fine, I don't care! But then you'll have to vote for me. And if you don't, you'll pay dearly, Nikolas."
Nikolas grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him to his feet. "Go away, William. I have no intention of humiliating myself like this."
"Wasn't that what you wanted? A second chance?"
"I don't sleep with men who are already taken. And right now, all I feel is disgust."
He pushed him out of the room and closed the door behind him.
Despite all his attempts, William hadn't gotten anything. Nikolas would vote against him. And he would tell the prince what he had tried to do just to convince him that his expulsion was deserved.
He should never have humiliated himself like that. And now he felt filthy and wrong.
He buttoned his shirt back up, his hands shaking so much he couldn't keep them still.
They would whisper that he was just a whore who sold himself, and they might even hurt him. Just as had happened at the Academy three years ago.
Only this time, he had gotten himself into trouble with his own hands.
He swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat and returned to his room.
He spent the night vomiting and cursing himself for being so stupid, and by morning, he was exhausted and paler than usual.
He washed his face, dressed, and combed his hair with mechanical movements, then headed to the Council Hall.
The prince was waiting at the threshold, radiant and bright as the sun.
"William," he called. "Can I speak with you for a moment in private?"
William nodded, though by now it no longer mattered. They would expel him, and it was all his fault.
The prince scratched the back of his neck. "Listen, I'm sorry about the other night. I shouldn't have reacted that way and then ignored you all day."
"It's not your fault, Your Highness."
"But I wanted to apologize for my behavior. I still believe I acted as best as I could, and I was hurt by your words, but I should have handled it better. You were angry and worried—I know you don't really think I'm stupid."
William pressed his lips together, holding back tears. "I don't think so. I'm sorry, I was cruel."
"So… you forgive me?"
"I have nothing to forgive you for, Your Highness. You should be the one forgiving me for what I said."
"You were angry, Will. I would never hate you over such a foolish quarrel."
"I know." William gently took his hand and kissed the ring bearing the royal seal. "I ask your forgiveness, Your Highness. For everything."
He entered the hall with the other royal advisors. The session began shortly after, and the king moved straight to the vote.
William stood and positioned himself in front of the long oval table. Lord Ballard took his place beside him.
"Good luck, mage," he said flatly, showing no hint of whether he believed William would win.
"Thank you, advisor."
William clenched his fists and forced himself to look straight ahead, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest.
The king raised a hand. "The Council is called to decide on Master Traver's presence at court. The Count of Hassex is absent, so he will abstain along with my son and me. The voting members are therefore twelve. Does anyone else wish to abstain?"
No one dared to speak.
"Very well. Those in favor, raise your hand."
William closed his eyes and lifted a hand, a knot tightening in his throat. He didn't dare to look at the raised hands, count them, and see that he had failed.
A low murmur spread through the room. A chair scraped the floor.
"What does this mean?" the prince exclaimed.
"Alex, sit down."
"But Father—"
"With five votes in favor and seven against, the Council has made its decision. Master Traver will no longer be a member of this assembly."
Those words hit harder than a punch to the stomach. William leaned on the table, digging his nails into the wood and holding on to the little self-control he had left to avoid collapsing in front of everyone.
He raised his eyes to Nikolas, and the advisor—the man he had once held dear—looked at him with cold indifference. He hadn't voted for him; there was no need to say it.
And William hated him with every fiber of his being.