by RJ Metcalf
Brandon’s eyebrow twitched, but that was his only acknowledgment to Titus’s words. He leaned back and crossed his arms, looking at Emperor Ezran. “Where’s Advisor Kaius?”
“He hasn’t been feeling well since we arrived,” Abigail answered smoothly. She shot a barbed glare at Weston. “Something in the water must be affecting him.” A frown tugged the corners of Abigail’s mouth, and she stared at Finn hard enough that Weston could almost feel the flames of her wrath kindling.
“He’s a friend of mine.” Brandon pressed his palms against the table, and Weston was struck by the patchwork of scars criss-crossing over Brandon’s knuckles. Former berserker, indeed. Brandon’s shoulders squared. “As you’ve heard, I took the liberty to question last night’s assassin. And he told me something interesting. He works for Kaius.”
Weston jolted. If the assassin worked for Kaius, and that assassin was the one who nearly killed his mother, did that mean it was the same assassin who’d killed his father? Did that assassin have friends? Red haze crowded the edges of Weston’s vision, and he forced himself to breathe out between his clenched teeth. What was Kaius’s deal? Why would he want Everett dead? Was it Kaius alone, or the rest of the Antians?
Was that the reason that Abigail was so cold to him? She wanted him dead? Or was it just his father?
It wasn’t like Weston hadn’t ever considered life without his father in the portrait, but it was one thing to consider something in a hypothetical manner, and another to actually murder someone.
Abigail’s face darkened, an expression of outrage crossing her delicate features.
Ezran leaned forward, “And you take the word of a prisoner just like that?”
Brandon exchanged glances with the old man to his right. “We have methods that made it impossible for him to lie.”
Ezran’s eyes thinned as he stared at Finn. “I remember you. You were the sage with those two Void Born!” He stood, his golden robe flowing around him like liquid amber. “You should be arrested. You helped take down the barrier!”
“If you’d listened to us then, you would recognize the lie in that, Ezran,” Finn’s stated calmly. Something in his expression changed. “And if you recall, you recognized me then. You’d do well to remember who I was all those years ago, too.”
Ezran’s mouth closed, and he studied Finn for a long moment that had Weston clenching his hands into fists under the table. What was Finn talking about? Ezran slowly sank back in his seat, still considering Finn.
“Well, I think that calls into question anything that either of you would say about this so-called interrogation, doesn’t it?” Titus crossed his arms, a smug smirk twitching his regulation-breaking beard to the side. “Could what you have to say be something that you only feel brave enough now that you think you’re on neutral ground?” He straightened himself to his full height as he looked between Weston, Violet, and Brandon. “It’s clear to me that grief and poor choices are running rampant here. I claimed martial law last night, but now I claim leadership of it and all of Aerugo, until such a time that sound-mindedness has returned or the proper leader has been coronated.” Titus stroke his beard. “That being said, anything more you would like to tell us?”
Weston closed his eyes, willing himself to remain calm. Titus was acting within Aerugian law, and he was one of the few in such a role of leadership that he could act without being questioned much. He didn’t want to fight Titus for rule. He didn’t want to be the Lord of Aerugo.
But was Titus what they needed for this time? Would Titus serve their people, or would he rule over them like Everett?
Did Weston want to speak against this? He sucked in a slow, trembling breath and opened his eyes in time to see Brandon squint at Titus.
Brandon’s jaw twitched. “Ask Kaius yourself.”
“This is ridiculous.” Abigail flared. She stood and glared down at them all, absolute ice in her expression. “You called us here to accuse our adviser? He has been an integral part of our family and our way of rule for decades. Longer than you’ve been alive, king of Doldra.”
“Is there a chance it could be true, though?” Weston heard himself ask. He grimaced when Abigail turned her cold fury to his direction. This is what happened when he attended meetings tired. He spoke without thinking. He hastened to correct himself before her look burned him alive. “At least ask him? What’s the worst that could happen?” What if Kaius really was responsible for the assassination and attempts?
Abigail lifted her chin, looking down her nose at him for a long heartbeat. “I shall ask him.”
Relief softened the fear she’d instilled in him, and he let humility smother both emotions. It was his best bet for getting her to say yes to this next question. “Would you allow me to be present for that, Your Highness?” He swallowed hard. “If it’s true, then he had a hand of responsibility in the murder of my father.”
Disbelief crossed her face. “He’s an advisor to my kingdom, and he had nothing to do with your father.” She lifted her hand and waved it, as if at a loss for words. “He’s barely even been present since we’ve arrived here. Why would he have anything to do with Lord Everett?”
“I won’t say anything.” Weston winced at the pleading note in his voice. “I just need to hear what he says for myself. One way or another.”
Her nose wrinkled, and she stood still for an eternity of a heartbeat, considering.
Ezran waved his hand. “He can go with you, Abigail.”
Her expression soured. “Fine.” She turned away from the table, robes pressing against her body before flowing back to drape her form, her posture perfect as she stalked to the door. A guard opened it for her, and Weston hastened to push away from the table and follow her. He barely registered Niles shadowing him. Did Abigail not have a bodyguard?
They’d barely gotten two steps from the meeting room before she whirled around, poking her finger in his face. “Do not get in my way.” She spun on her heel, moving on without checking to see if he was following.
He jogged to catch up, confusion and anger swirling in his gut. What was with this woman and her disdain for him? “What makes you think I’d get in your way?”
She barely looked at him as she flipped a thick strand of hair from her face, revealing what almost appeared to be fury. “You’re soft. All you care about is your own pleasure.”
Weston missed a step and he stared after her. “Princess, I’ve changed since you last saw me.”
Abigail sniffed. “We’ll see.” She stopped abruptly before a doorway that Weston belatedly recognized as the one assigned to Kaius. She folded her hands, and her expression smoothed to one of benign peace. “Either way, you’re not a manipulator. So I suggest you stand back.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Weston
Abigail knocked on Kaius’s door and glanced back at Niles. She sniffed again and rolled her eyes. “He can guard the door.” The smile she shot Weston blended condescending and superiority. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe, prince.”
Weston grimaced but nodded at Niles. Despite himself, Weston believed her when she said she’d protect him. It wouldn’t do for Antius if he were to get hurt on her watch, especially while talking to their advisor about his father’s murder. Niles lifted his thick eyebrows at Weston with an unimpressed look. Weston shrugged and turned back to the door as it opened.
Advisor Kaius stood there, his face pallid, and a faint bruise visible on the back of his hand. His eyes widened and he staggered back. “Princess Abigail. What a surprise.” He pushed his hand into his side and gasped, bending over his hand. “I’m not feeling well, Your Highness, I really should rest right now.”
Pity stirred in Weston’s gut despite himself. He’d met Kaius only briefly during this trip, but the pale, sweating Elph in front of them looked extraordinarily different than the poised, haughty man from before.
Abigail didn’t listen to Kaius and strode forward. Kaius backpedaled, giving her the space needed for Weston to
follow in her wake. The door nearly shut behind Weston, but Niles stuck his foot out, keeping the door barely open. Abigail rolled her eyes and focused anew on Kaius. She pursed her lips, her gaze searching over him, taking in the noticeable changes. “What happened to you?”
Kaius’s fingers twitched, and he brought his hands together, hiding them in his sleeves. He gave a small shrug and shake of his head. His neckline shifted with the movement, briefly flashing darkened skin on his collarbone. “Nothing I would want you to be alarmed over. How can I help you?”
“Is that a bruise?” Abigail hurried forward, her hand gripping his tunic and gently tugging on it, bringing into light a purpled mark that continued as far as Weston could see. He let out a low whistle while Abigail stared. She jerked her face up at Kaius, shock coloring her words. “Advisor Kaius, where did that come from?”
“It came from my bedpost.” Kaius waved a hand toward his bed, gesturing toward the ornate wooden frame that curled around the mattress. “I fell against it.”
“Do you need anything for it?” She stepped back, her expression one of concern and disbelief. “Why didn’t you get a healing stone for it, reduce some of the swelling?”
“I—” Kaius hesitated, his gaze slipping to the side. “I didn’t want to be around others, and it’s better than it could be.”
Abigail frowned. “You didn’t want to be around others? Since when are you an introvert?”
“Only for now, Your Highness.” Kaius’s voice smoothed, confidence returning. “I’ll be back to normal soon enough, I expect.”
“I hope so,” she murmured, her expression softening. “It’s odd to not have you around all the time.” He gave a pained smile, and she tapped her chin, thoughtful. “If you’ve been trapped in here, you likely haven’t heard the most recent news, have you?”
Kaius stepped back without looking away from her. “And what news is that, Your Highness?” He reached out blindly, groping until his hand touched his bed frame. He gripped the post with white knuckles.
Irritation and apology colored Abigail’s features all at once before she fixed her attention on Kaius. Her tone lowered, giving due respect to the recently deceased. “Lord Everett of Aerugo died just last night.”
Kaius’s eyes widened. “Oh.” His gaze snapped to Weston, and a flicker of something flashed there, then Kaius bowed, breaking the eye contact before Weston could make anything of it. “My condolences, young prince.”
Weston gave a stiff nod. There was no need to acknowledge Kaius’s so-called-sympathy beyond that. The platitudes and condolences were a sham by just about everyone, and he knew it. Everett may have been a strong leader, but beloved he was not.
The weight of Abigail’s gaze rested on him as she directed her words to Kaius. “Did you know that Lord Everett of Aerugo was to be assassinated?”
Weston lifted his eyebrows at her nonchalance as she asked such a pointed question. She stood with her hands to her side, head tilted as she analyzed her advisor.
Kaius stared at her, something akin to panic in his eyes. “Why would you ask such a thing, Your Highness?”
She blew out her breath, stirring blonde strands of hair that brushed against her cheeks. “There have been accusations. And I’m trying to show that Antius has had nothing to do with Lord Everett’s murder.” She rubbed a finger between her eyes as if soothing a headache. “Now just answer the question. Did you know that he was to be assassinated. Yes or no?”
All color had drained from Kaius’s face. “Yes.”
Abigail shot Weston a startled side-glance, then her voice hardened, sharp as a diamond. “Did you have a hand in his death or any of the other assassination attempts last night?”
“Not directly, I ordered Prince Brandon’s death. But I approved of Everett’s assassination.” He looked up at Weston. “How are you alive? Did that Void Born not finish the job?” Kaius blinked, and his face reddened. “That is, uh—”
Fury ignited like a brushfire in Weston’s veins, and red overtook his vision. It was one thing to suspect Kaius, but to hear the cold, hard admission without a trace of remorse? He’d make the bleeding whale spawn pay.
He lunged forward, one hand gripping Kaius’s collar as he snapped a punch into Kaius’s jaw. Kaius’s face whipped to the side, and blood dribbled down his chin. Sharp pain radiated up from Weston’s knuckles, but he didn’t care. He pulled back for another strike, but someone grabbed his hand.
Abigail’s eyes blazed. “You need to wait.” She waved a hand at a nearby pitcher of water, and an icicle formed above it, slicing through the air and stopping inches from Kaius’s neck. “Why?”
Weston shook out his hand, breathing hard, staring at Kaius’s split lip. He’d done that?
Kaius trembled. “Why what? You’ll need to be more specific than that, Your Highness. You know how the blood-bond works,” He snarled, disdain dripping from his words like poison. He spat a wad of blood onto the floor.
Blood-bond? Was she blood-bonded? Was Kaius bonded to her? Weston rocked where he stood, but didn’t move beyond that.
She looked at Weston with some un-nameable emotion that made him want to squirm. He hadn’t lost his temper like that before. She held his gaze while speaking to Kaius. “Why did you want Lord Everett dead?”
Kaius’s eye twitched and he pressed his lips together. His face slowly turned red. The icicle pressed into his skin and a dribble of blood leaked down his neck. Kaius gasped. “He was in the way.”
“I trusted you.” Abigail hissed. Her smooth copper cheeks mottled with red riding high on her cheekbones. “What else have you—” she cut herself off and shook her head, disgust painted across her face.
The anger Weston felt before blazed in sight of Abigail’s fury. She kept her hand out, controlling the icicle, letting it continue to press into her adviser’s throat. She was terrifying. And beautiful. And she utterly loathed him. Such irony.
And maybe Kaius would get what he deserved, right here, right now.
Weston shook the thought away. What was he? His father? Only Everett dispensed “justice” so quickly. His anger eased up, and he blinked away the haze in his vision.
A shiver visibly worked up Abigail’s back, and she snapped over her shoulder. “Guards!” She paused and looked at Weston. “Do you have anything to say to him?” She snapped her fingers at Kaius and pointed to the ground. “Kneel, scum.”
Kaius’s cheek twitched as he obeyed, his gaze darting between Abigail and Weston.
Niles and two other guards ran into the room, and Weston held out his hand, halting them.
He stared down at the Elph adviser. Was it bad that he didn’t even know what he felt right now? Definitely anger that this man killed his father. But there was also a measure of relief, that his father was dead. He wouldn’t have to fear his father’s wrath again. But there was also hatred for Kaius, that he’d done something so irreversible. That he’d tried to have Weston’s mother killed, too. And now Weston was at an impasse that he didn’t want to face quite yet. He would have to step up for leadership of Aerugo, or risk someone like General Titus holding the reins of the country. Despite all her years with Everett, his mother was still considered the Queen of Doldra, and wouldn’t be in the running for Aerugo’s leadership.
“Did you help the Void Born to take down the barrier?” Weston asked. He barely recognized his own voice, soft with the threat of danger. He shivered and clenched his fists behind his back. He wouldn’t snap. Not again. Not right now.
Kaius nodded, his eyes hard, yet gleaming. “Yes. I made sure Christopher could get to the lodestone and steal it.”
All too aware of the guards and Abigail watching, Weston knelt in front of Kaius, three fingers against the ground for balance. The Elph cringed from Abigail’s unmelting icicle, but it stayed ever at his neck. Weston fought to keep himself calm, to not give in to the temper that raged under his skin, begging to be let out, begging for Weston to be like his father in his wrath. “Because of your actions
, thousands will die. What punishment do you think you should receive?”
Kaius glared up at him. “Death.”
Weston stood, shaken by the conviction and lack of hesitance in Kaius’s quick answer.
“No.” Weston shook his head, his stomach clenching. “Death is far too good for you. We’re going to defeat your northern allies, and you’re going to live to see every one of your plans fail.”
He stepped back and nodded at Abigail. She snapped her fingers at the guards, and they rushed forward, binding Kaius’s hands. She directed the icicle to float back to the water basin and awe rose in Weston at the ease of her power.
Abigail frowned at him. “You’re confident. Youthfully so.”
Weston paused, not expecting that. How old was she, anyhow? She looked to be early twenties, just a few years above him, but she was Elph. He thought he remembered Andre telling him that the Elph princess was about his age, but for all he knew, Abigail was actually older than him by decades.
He finally shrugged. “We’re doomed if we’re not optimistic enough to fight. Only fools would lay down their swords in the face of war.”
Her eyebrows shot up and she huffed an almost-laugh. “Fair enough, prince.” She gave him a small nod, sorrow weighing her words. “You were right. Kaius was not who we thought he was.”
Weston started to cross his arms, thought better of it, and let them hang loose, trying not to appear judging or threatening against her. “Kaius mentioned that you know how the blood-bond works. Is he bonded to you?”
She stared at him for an eternally long moment, her mouth ajar. She snapped it shut, her eyes blazing with an internal fire that threatened to melt him where he stood. “Of course I know how the blood-bond works,” she said, her words sharp and clipped. “I’m an Elph, in case you forgot. Everyone in my nation knows how the blood-bond works. And no,” she pushed up her sleeves, showcasing her toned upper arms, her smooth umber skin unmarked. “I have never been tattooed for the bond. Depending on what he’d been ordered, any of us could give him commands. Or, depending on what he’d been ordered, nothing we say or do could get an answer out of him.” She let her sleeves fall back to cover her wrists and frowned. “Only the older Elph, those from before the barrier went up, have the bond. The rest of us younger generation don’t.” There was a hint of hurt in her tone that her frustration and anger just barely concealed.
