by Kyra Gregory
Gyles looked elsewhere, saying nothing as he thought the man to be lying. He was certain he lost something. What, exactly, he wasn’t sure. He sighed and clapped a hand onto the man’s shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts. Gyles offered him a smile but said nothing else, picking up another bread roll and handing it to him. They sat there, sitting in silence, watching boats come and go, and listening to the waves that crashed upon the shores, as well as the chatter that occurred behind them.
***
It had become easier to find Deros in the palace, in spite of its size. Whenever she required him, whenever she’d started to wonder why he’d spent so much time out of her presence, she needn’t ask any of the guards of his whereabouts. She need only follow the sound of arguing, the guards stone-cold expressions as they struggled to say and do nothing at the sound of name-calling and yelling a clear sign that she was getting closer.
Sybelle stopped at a corner, standing beside a guard, as she peeked around. There, she saw Bella standing in the doorway of her chambers, spewing hateful words that escaped her in such a flurry that Sybelle struggled to understand her. Neyva was clutched in Deros’s arm, her arms wrapped around his neck with her young, tearful face perched on his shoulder as she turned away from the sight of her parents arguing about goodness knows what.
Deros threw his free hand up in frustration, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling before letting his hand fall by his side. Bella said nothing else, reaching out and taking their daughter from her father’s arms before ushering her into their chambers.
Deros laid his back against the wall, sighing and raking his fingers through his dark hair. Sybelle stepped out from behind the corner, turning her full attention to her dress as she dusted it off, nonchalant. “You’re a very poor liar,” Deros remarked, perching his chin on the back of his hand.
Sybelle pursed her lips together and shrugged her shoulders, “I had very little intention of lying,” she retorted. “Although, if you wish yourself not to be heard then you should probably not raise your voice so much with her.”
“It’s she who raises her voice,” Deros growled, turning on his heel and making his way towards her. “And I raise my voice louder in reply.”
“It’s a mistake,” Sybelle said, laughing. “She’s riling you up on purpose, hoping to aggravate you as much as you’ve aggravated her with her newfound circumstances,” she said.
“Then return her to Gyles,” Deros grumbled, viciously, “and let her take it up with him because goodness knows it was not I that wanted her here.”
“It’s precisely because you didn’t want her here that she was sent in the first place,” Sybelle said.
Deros sighed, biting the inside of his cheek. “I cannot say that I blame the man,” he said. “He forced me to tell you what I did not. I cannot fault him for being protective of you.”
“Then take your punishment as best you can,” Sybelle said, reaching for his hand at his side and clasping it in hers. “I suggest leaving her to her yelling. It will likely come to a stop once she realises that you won’t be bothered by it.”
“You’re asking me to do precisely what it is you know yourself to be completely and utterly incapable of,” he said, growing increasingly exasperated. “You’re asking me to take such affronts lying down and you know that I cannot allow that.”
“You allowed it for most of your life beneath your father,” Sybelle retorted, “and all I’m asking you to do is to allow it, with her alone, for however long you wish to keep her here.”
Deros came to a stop, sighing, “I must confess that, while I don’t wish her any harm, my only reason for not turning her away is because I don’t want to see my daughter harmed in the ensuing war.”
“And that’s precisely the reason why I haven’t asked for them removed,” Sybelle said, cocking her head to one side.
Deros paused, no longer walking beside her. She stopped, turning to look over her shoulder. His brows were furrowed together, his worried gaze turned to the floor and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He licked his lips, shifted his weight from one foot to the other and spoke, quietly, in a shaking voice, “I’ve shamed you by keeping her here.”
Sybelle scoffed, waving her hand dismissively, “I’m a Queen,” she said, “I cannot be shamed by one man, his woman and child.”
Deros shook his head, “I’m not fit to stand beside you as it is,” he said. “I’m a man of Evrad, I was once your enemy and have never carried any title higher than that of Count and Captain General.” He met her gaze and she raised an eyebrow at the sight of the self-loathing that had quickly replaced his anger. “That alone was bad enough. Now, you’re being forced to live in the presence of a woman I once shared a bed with and still share a child with.”
Sybelle rolled her eyes, turning away, “I don’t care, Deros,” she said. “I couldn’t care any less about your previous exploits. If I did, I would not be sharing a bed with the man that took my brother from me.”
Deros followed her down the corridor. His steps behind her were slow, each one weighted with his concerns. “I’ll turn her away,” he said.
Sybelle rolled her eyes once more, turning to him, “You needn’t do that,” she said, sighing. “It’s as I said; I don’t care.”
“And what about what other people say?” Deros countered, leaning into her, his voice low. “What about what everybody else has to say about this? About a Queen who allows her lover, a lover who is already beneath her, to keep—”
“I never cared about what they had to say,” she said, throwing her hands up at her sides. “I never cared that they thought you were beneath me. I never cared what they thought of my choices and I won’t care now.” She sighed noisily and she dropped her shoulders, “Now, if it’s you that cares about what other people think then that’s your problem and not mine.” She turned the corner and approached her chambers, Deros following closely behind her, “My suggestion for dealing with such a thing,” she started, stepping into the doorway of her chambers and turning to him, “is to always remember that if anybody says something displeasing about you, you may always have their head.” Deros mouth fell open slightly and Sybelle paid a cheeky smirk to the two guards that stood at the door of her chambers, their eyes momentarily wide with curiosity. Again, she rolled her eyes at how the military tactician could be so oblivious. She reached forward and took him by the hand before dragging him into her room.
CHAPTER 8
IT HADN’T BEEN longer than ten minutes since Gyles had laid his head onto the desk in the Evradian General’s former office, having shut the door firmly behind him before he’d done so, that a fist eagerly banged against the wooden surface, the sound of his name being called almost drowned out by it. His head was pounding, causing one of the most excruciating pains that his body had ever felt, rivalling that which his heart had endured. He wasn’t sure what it was. Perhaps it’d been from witnessing all the struggles the Evradian people were faced with, many still having to sort through the rubble of their old homes before they could even consider rebuilding and moving forward. Perhaps it was from witnessing the struggles of the farmers as they looked to their fields that had come alight from defiant birds which had settled upon scarecrows, igniting all around them until there was nothing left. Or, perhaps, it was just the long periods of time he’d spent beneath the scorching sun, staring out at the sea that reflected the light into his eyes.
He looked up at the door, supporting his head with a fist against his forehead, staring at the entrance through half-lidded eyes as he called Lukas into the room.
The young man, whose company he’d almost come to enjoy, ridded himself of glee immediately upon seeing him. His eyes grew wide as he advanced on him, taking a better look at him in the light of the dim room. “You look terrible,” Lukas said with a gasp.
“I don’t doubt I feel worse than I look,” Gyles replied, rubbing his stinging eyes with his knuckles.
“What can I get you?” Lukas asked, looking a
round, almost in a panic. “Shall I call a physician?”
“No, no,” Gyles replied, chuckling, “just get on with it. What’s the matter? What was so important that you were almost ready to take that door down?”
Lukas recoiled and his lips tugged into a grin, “I found that kid you were looking for,” he said. Lukas went on before Gyles could so much as straighten up as he caught his attention, “Well, I haven’t found him exactly. I found somebody who told me which family he belongs to.”
Gyles got to his feet and, as quickly as he’d done so, he was off them again. His torso slammed into the desk as his hands fumbled for purchase in anything that could support him, failing as he fell to the ground and his world slipped into absolute darkness. He woke up panting, struggling for breath while his eyes were weighted, making it difficult to ascertain his surroundings. He took a deep breath, turning his head away at the sensation of an ice cold, wet cloth against his hot skin. “How does that feel?”
“Terrible,” Gyles croaked, inching out from beneath the cloth. Lukas’ arms held him in place, in his lap, he soon realised, feeling the guard’s knees digging into his back.
“Good,” Lukas persisted, forcing the cloth against his forehead. “Perhaps then you will see sense,” he said.
“What sense?” Gyles asked, turning his head away again.
“Sense that you cannot keep doing this to yourself,” Lukas whispered, chidingly.
“Keep doing what to myself?” Gyles went on to ask, cringing beneath Lukas’ forceful hold.
Lukas groaned, jolting Gyles slightly back into place, “Now you’re just being stupid,” he said.
“Just help me up and let’s go,” Gyles whined, struggling to lift his weight onto his hands in order to get up.
“It’s getting late,” Lukas reiterated, chidingly, “and you won’t be welcome into anyone’s home at such an hour. We will go in the morning if your health permits it.”
Gyles collapsed back against Lukas, realising that his efforts were fruitless when faced with both the guard’s stubbornness and his own ailing health. He exhaled silently, his eyelids falling shut in spite of his struggle to keep them open. “I’ll call a physician for you,” he heard Lukas say.
“I’ll be fine,” Gyles said, his voice nothing more than a murmur to his own ears. He took a deep breath, turning his head away, “I just need to sleep,” he added.
Lukas chuckled, shaking his head, “We’ll see about that,” he murmured.
Gyles closed his eyes and opened them again what he thought to be only a few moments later. If anyone had tried to tell him that actual sleep had taken place between the two minuscule movements his eyelids had made then he likely would’ve laughed at them. But the sun was shining in through a stained glass window and the fire a short distance away from him had died out long ago with not an ember of light and heat left flickering. His first deep inhale of breath had him coughing uncontrollably, forcing him to roll onto his side and untangle himself from the sheets that had been laid over him. He struggled to breathe through the wheeze in his chest as he brought himself to sit up onto his side and glance around the room. He was alone, for the moment, but the movement outside the door quickly told him that that wouldn’t be the case for very long.
Sure enough, hardly missing a beat, Lukas pushed open the door without even a single glance in his direction, carrying a tray of food and water. “Being a servant is beneath you,” Gyles croaked, his voice acting like it had been an eternity since it had been used last.
“I do what I must,” Lukas said, lowering himself to sit, cross-legged on the floor, placing the tray between them, “and fill whatever role is required of me, whatever that may be.”
Gyles eyed him momentarily before snatching the piece of bread on the tray, dipping it into the gravy of the humble piece of meat that he’d been given. “You’re too good sometimes, you know,” he said, uncaring for his manners when his hunger had begun to drive him mad. “That doesn’t lead to anything good,” he added.
Lukas cocked his head to one side, “That’s awfully pessimistic,” he said. “It hardly seems like you.”
“Because you don’t know me,” Gyles scoffed, never meeting his gaze. “Frankly, I hardly know me anymore either,” he whispered.
“Then you cannot judge me for my opposing opinion of you,” Lukas said, crossing his arms and placing his back against a wall.
Gyles glanced up at him, watching as he withdrew himself into his own thoughts. He looked terribly worn out with dark circles beneath his eyes and a slackening of his shoulders, like he hadn’t slept at all when it was clear that an entire night had passed since he’d last seen him. Gyles opened his mouth to speak, just until it occurred to him that he didn’t quite know what it was that he wanted to say. He shook his head, stuffing his mouth with the remaining bread.
“I need you to prepare two horses,” Gyles started, eager to start the day despite his body’s better judgement.
“Already done,” Lukas replied, promptly. He shifted beneath Gyles’s surprised gaze, shrugging his shoulders, “I knew you would be keen to leave. However, I think it would be wise to wait on a physician to examine you,” he said.
“A physician,” Gyles scoffed, placing his hands on the ground and forcing himself to his full height. He wasn’t having any of it from Lukas, shaking his head and persisting that he was fine as he made his way out of the castle door and onto one of the awaiting horses.
Lukas led the way, albeit regretfully, with shoulders slumped and his gaze frequently on Gyles. “You’ve yet to tell me why this boy is so important,” Lukas said. “He’s a servant, is he not? Was he someone you knew? A relative, perhaps?”
“You ask an awful lot of questions,” Gyles said with a half-hearted chuckle.
“What else is there to do?” Lukas asked, throwing a hand up and dropping it back onto the leather saddle. “It will take us time to get there,” he said.
“How much time?” Gyles asked, realising he’d yet to have done so in spite of his interest.
“About three or four more hours,” Lukas replied, visibly estimating as he looked down their path and pursed his lips together in thought.
Gyles smirked, hanging his head, “Can you not ride quietly, enjoying your surroundings?”
Lukas briefly glanced around and, immediately, Gyles realised his words had been in poor taste. Their surroundings were nothing of a pleasant note, nor could they be the source of any sort of entertainment. Broken, tired families still pottered around the streets, trying their utmost to drag together their lives. The villages themselves looked to be faring a bit better, with many houses having been restored, at least for the moment. But it had come at a cost; businesses had suffered. Money had been spent on materials required to make the repairs to keep the roofs over their heads in a bid to shelter them from the blistering sun in the mornings and the icy breeze that blew in from the sea at night. Frankly, Gyles hadn’t been looking at his surroundings at all, focused on the only positive thing that his mind could think of for the sole reason that the despair around him was enough to weigh him down even further.
Lukas shook his head with a deep frown on his lips, his nose crinkled in disgust, “When you find something worth enjoying, do let me know,” he said.
Gyles threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut and cursing his own stupidity. After sighing and nudging his horse to speed up, he followed Lukas more closely while making no attempt to better the situation with words.
Against Gyles’s desires, they agreed to stop for a break when the journey began to appear too long. Lukas breathed a sigh of relief, dismounting his horse and reaching for the satchel strapped to the saddle. Gyles stroked the muzzle of his horse, leading him to the side of the path before tying him to the remainder of the nearest tree. His eyes remained transfixed on the road that they had been travelling on, watching as it seemed to go on for miles. He couldn’t help but be wary. As much as he wanted to believe that Dreyny’s brother had been found
, as much as he wanted to believe that his travels to Evrad, leaving his post in Lionessa, hadn’t all been for nothing, a part of him did wonder if Lukas was leading him to his death.
However, looking down at the man as he got onto his knees, unpacking fruit from a cloth bag and passing him a flask of water, he couldn’t help but think that the man was hapless, however good intentioned, and hardly worth worrying over. Gyles forced a smile, bowing his head in gratitude as he took a sip from the flask. He slid down the trunk of charred tree, drawing his knees up to his chest, asking, “How much longer is this walk?”
“Just about another hour, maybe a bit more,” Lukas replied, chomping into an apple as though he hadn’t eaten in days. To be fair, Gyles thought, he imagined the man had done his fair bit of work. After all, he’d achieved results in his search already, never mind being nothing but helpful with all that Gyles had asked him for. It was no wonder he’d worked up an appetite.
“You didn’t find difficulty in seeking out this boy?” Gyles asked, cocking his head to one side curiously. “A kingdom as large as this, surely it cannot have been easy,” he said.
Lukas nodded, resisting talking for as long as food filled his mouth. “Most slave traders and service agreements happen in the capital,” he said, “usually involving the same people. And there are only so many nobles who can afford them; even if they were gifted to another, it’s still the same people making the transactions.”
Gyles pursed his lips together, nodding as he took the time to take in his words. “You seem to know a lot about slavery and service agreements,” he said.
Lukas shrugged his shoulders, his green eyes transfixed on the ground. “More than I would like to know,” he confessed. He clicked his tongue along the roof of his mouth. He flicked the seeds in the core of his apple across the ground, watching where each one went as he attempted to send each one further than the last. With his eyes fixed on his task, delighted, he asked, “Are you ever going to tell me who this kid is?”
