Accustomed

by Kyra Gregory

  So overwhelmed by a weight that threatened to crush him, Gyles crouched onto the ground, cradling his aching head in his hands as he sunk his nails deep into his scalp. He didn’t know how to answer, he thought, trembling to the point at which he could no longer hold his balance. Lukas approached him and he hated him for it. He didn’t want to feel the warmth of his kindness, to hear or see his concern for him.

  Lukas grabbed him by the arms with a vice-like grip, forcing him to sit up. Nonetheless, he couldn’t bring himself to look at him. He scrunched his eyes shut, inhaling sharply before he told him everything. Everything. He told him about the love of his life, the only person in the waking world that he’d ever found himself so enamoured with. He told him how his own foolishness, how his neglect and blindness, had led to his lover’s death and how his own cowardice was the reason that he’d hardly spent any time at his side in his last moments. He told him of his silent promise, a vow he’d made in what time he could, to find his brother and protect him, to do what he knew Dreyny would’ve done with his life for his brother. And he told him of how he was too late, though he knew it already.

  And Lukas sat there, listening in absolute silence with a look on his face that Gyles couldn’t stand to see. Instead, he wrapped his arms over his head and drew his knees up to his chest as he finished his story, his pathetic story, and sobbed until each breath that hitched within his chest caused him so much agony that he almost thought it therapeutic for being so well-deserved.

  It was a night of embracing the pain that Dreyny had left him with, that his unfulfilled vows had left him with, and hurting himself in return. But, like all nights, it came to an end, in spite of all the wounds he’d left himself with as he’d forced his nails to graze his scalp and arms. He awoke early in the morning, unable to pry open his heavy-lidded eyes that had justly been swollen shut.

  His eyes followed Lukas across the room as he re-assembled his uniform over himself, an exhausted sigh on his lips while each of his movements were slow and lethargic. He stopped at the table, bending forward to splash some cold water onto his face, hoping to appear more stirred than he actual felt he was. An apology was on Gyles’s lips immediately. After all, he’d caused so much trouble by attracting so much attention to himself, warranting the kind soldier’s attention and pity, but he found he neither had the energy, nor the ability, to speak. Instead of saying a word, however, , he closed his eyes, resting for a little while longer.

  The door opened and closed behind the soldier as he left, leaving him alone with his thoughts once more. It was almost too torturous. The bed he was in was large and cold, only serving to remind him of the loneliness he felt. Resting would not come easy if his mind was always so consumed, he thought. He forced himself out of bed, running his fingers through his hair as he dressed himself half-heartedly.

  The trek down the long corridors was painful. Everything seemed to hurt. He was choking somehow, feeling his breath tight within his chest with more emotion that worked its way up his chest. But he would be in the presence of people soon and he couldn’t let it show, throwing his head back as he walked until he could draw back every trace of sentiment that intruded into his eyes. He was one step away from the breakfast room where all the remaining soldiers were gathered, about to push open the door and free himself from his own torture by putting on a mask in front of others when he forced himself to stop at the sound of the discussion going on.

  “We should just kill him,” a voice sneered.

  “He is a friend of the Queen, our Queen, whether we like it or not, and killing him will only bring her wrath down upon us once more. We cannot have that, not for the people, not when there’s not enough of us left to defend them,” Lukas said. He sounded exasperated, as though he’d gone over this with them before or, at least, as though he’d grown frustrated with their ignorance. Whichever it was, Lukas was sure to sound completely dismissive of their words. “He may not be liked but he hasn’t done any harm, not to the people and not to us,” he continued.

  “You wish to believe he held no part in any of this? You’re right to say that he’s a friend of the Queen, yet, how is it you can also deny his part in what she’s done?”

  The voices of the soldiers in the breakfast room erupted in agreement, forcing Lukas to raise his own voice over theirs, all the more irritated, “I don’t deny his part in it. That said, did he not have that right, in the name of war? Did we not have a hand in the abduction and mistreatment of a simple boy? Did we not aid our King in his threats against a Queen who was, in truth, nothing more than a girl in mourning?” The room fell into silence, the next sound being that of hands slammed firmly onto a table and the legs of a chair scraping against the ground. “We all do things we shouldn’t in times like these! If he is to remain guilty for what he has done in a time of war then so should we!”

  Gyles smirked, pressing his forehead to the door. He drew it open a moment later, making his way inside and forcing everyone into a self-imposed silence. He said nothing to anyone, not even looking at any of them. He grabbed a bowl from the table, ladled a small helping of porridge into it before grabbing a spoon and leaving the dining hall altogether.

  He took his meal to the office, slipping a paper out from a pile and grabbing a pen, beginning his letter. Lukas quickly appeared, standing before him with a worried look in his eyes that Gyles couldn’t address with food in his mouth. “You heard everything, didn’t you?” Gyles hummed an affirmative, never taking his eyes off the pen that was gliding along the surface of the paper. “Then why not defend yourself? Why not...try to convince them of the good in you?”

  “I needn’t convince them of anything,” Gyles replied with a smirk, pushing his bowl and spoon aside. “I’ll be leaving soon enough, much to their delight.”

  “Leaving to where?” Lukas asked, wide-eyed as his gaze flickered about. “To do what?”

  Gyles smirked, signing off the letter, “Never change, Lukas,” he said.

  Lukas’ nose crinkled in disgust and he scoffed, “What do you mean by that?”

  Gyles placed the pen down, sitting back in his chair as he looked up at the soldier that had guided and protected him through Evrad. “Continue to have the well-being of your people on your mind, continue to have their best interests at heart. I have no doubt that, if you do that, Evrad will thrive again one day, even beneath Lionessa’s rule.”

  “That still doesn’t tell me where it is you’re going,” Lukas retorted, bitterly.

  “What does it matter to you?” Gyles asked, chuckling and shaking his head. “I have duties to perform. We have always known that.”

  “You haven’t told me of your plan at all,” Lukas remarked, taking a seat across from him. “How do I know you’re not about to have yourself killed?”

  “You don’t,” Gyles chuckled. Though he took it as a joke, the man across from him didn’t see things the same way he did. “You protect your country with everything you have,” Gyles remarked, his voice soft, “even going as far as to risk making yourself an enemy to your own people by befriending me. I do the same. My country is threatened at the moment and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect it.”

  “Even risk your own life?” Lukas cocked his head to one side, his gaze no longer meeting the other’s, before Gyles had a moment to answer him, “I wonder... Would you go that far, had yesterday been different?”

  Gyles smirked. He dropped his gaze as he gave it some thought. He half-shrugged his shoulders, unable to find the answer, “Perhaps. Perhaps my decision would’ve been different.”

  “And is there nothing I can say to change your mind about leaving?” Lukas asked.

  Gyles chuckled, retorting, “Would you really want to?”

  Lukas hung his head, no doubt feeling ashamed by the look on his face. “I suppose not,” he replied, flashing him a smile.

  Gyles sealed the letter he’d written in an envelope, stamping the wax with the seal he kept tucked in his pocket. “I would have you pass this on t
o a messenger. I need it in Lionessa as soon as possible.” He smiled with a growing sense of regret, retreating into his seat as their separation began to dawn on him. “It’s the last thing I ask of you.”

  “And, yet, I would not have it be the last thing I do,” Lukas said, exhaling as he brought himself to his feet. Gyles did the same, standing across from him, inhaling deeply as he came to terms with their parting. “I would see you off whenever it is you decide to leave,” he said.

  Gyles smiled, extending his arm to the man across from him. Lukas latched on tightly, smiling in return.

  CHAPTER 9

  THE PREPARATIONS HAD been made and, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Gyles was able to put such matters to rest, at least for a short time. The sailors he was set to sail with were in a bar and brothel just next door to the inn that Lukas had found him a room in. He would have to leave in the earliest hours of the morning, making it easier to take up residence in a place so close to the sea that he could practically smell the spray of salt water as it crashed against the boats in the ports through the window of his modest room.

  In an ideal world, Gyles would’ve forced himself to get to know the sailors downstairs but Gyles never lived in an ideal world, nor did he ever consider himself capable of living up to the ideals set for him. Instead, he chose to spend the evening in his room, followed by Lukas who attempted to put off their inevitable separation under the guise that he was there to protect him until the moment he set sail. Gyles couldn’t say he was disappointed. As they amassed a collection of empty jugs of wine and beer on the floor beside the bed, he thought his face muscles could never have been any more sore from smiling, just as his sides had never ached so much from laughing. Seated at the foot of the bed, the only place in the room to sit on, they shared stories, their own and those of others. They were the same, Gyles realised; though they had very little in terms of enjoyment, they made light of every situation so much as to be able to find momentary solace from their troubles. It was as refreshing as the salted breeze to his lungs and he couldn’t be more grateful to find himself in the man’s company.

  “This Queen,” Lukas started, shifting to sit against the bedpost, “does she know that you’re about to risk your life for her, even when you’re no longer meant to be on duty?”

  Gyles chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, “She knows that I’ll die for her, duty or not,” he said. Lukas nodded but didn’t appear all too satisfied with that response. Gyles said nothing, relaxing against the other post at the foot of the bed, “What are you to do now?”

  Lukas shrugged his shoulders, “I’ll do just as you asked me to,” he said, sighing. “I’ll return to the castle and do my best to maintain control over the guards there. I’ll see to it that they keep order in the capital and that we avoid a revolt as best as we can.”

  Gyles nodded, “I’ve told the Queen about you,” he said, shifting in his seat, feeling the hard wooden post digging into his back. “If you require assistance from Lionessa you need only ask and she will give whatever it is she can spare.”

  “What she can spare,” Lukas reiterated. “She’s fighting a war with Azura now. She’s calling upon even you because she requires all the assistance she can get,” he said. He shook his head, rolling his shoulders back, “No,” he said, definitively, “we’ll do what we can by ourselves. In that way, we won’t deplete her reinforcements in Lionessa and we will show her that we’re capable of standing upon our own two feet.”

  Gyles chuckled, feeling that familiar pain in his cheeks and ribs, “You’re stubborn,” he remarked.

  Lukas laughed too, “I’m an Evradian,” he said. “We know no other way.”

  “Such a thing means that you have a long road ahead of you,” Gyles said, looking up at him from beneath his lashes. “Are you sure you don’t wish to send for someone in my place?”

  Lukas laughed openly, immediately shaking his head, “No, absolutely not,” he said. “I can handle the men even without you around.”

  Unable to help himself, watching the man laugh with so much heart, so much amusement, he also started to laugh, with not a care to how much it hurt to do so. “Was I so terrible to have around?” He asked through his laughter, breathing heavily.

  Lukas rolled his eyes, taking another gulp of wine, “No,” he said.

  Gyles dropped his head into his hands, watching the other’s laughter die down just as his own did the same. He shook his head with disbelief, held onto the bedpost and leaned over to place his full chalice on the ground, “I’ve had too much to drink,” he said, beginning to lose his voice.

  “You should stop drinking,” Lukas agreed, the smile on his lips having diminished to one embodying sadness. “Your mind needs to be clear; you need to be able to look after yourself at sea if you hope to be successful for your Queen,” he said.

  “And you?” Gyles countered with playfulness in his tone, reaching to snatch the man’s cup from his grasp. “Shouldn’t you stop drinking? Don’t you need to take care of yourself when faced with disgruntled soldiers in the castle?”

  Lukas snatched back his cup, with more force than Gyles had held it, not caring for what he spilt on himself in doing so, “I have the lengthy walk back to sober me up,” he said, leaning into him. “I’m not so drunk that it won’t be enough.”

  Gyles shook his head, reaching over to snatch Lukas’ cup once more. Lukas grabbed his hand, holding on tight. He leaned in, staring at him intently with an unwillingness to give in. But, however much the stubbornness on their faces began to fade, their grip on one another remained. Lukas lifted his other hand at a slow pace, timid and cautious in his actions as his fingers sank into the nape of Gyles’s neck, inching him closer towards him. The air between them was warm as they shared each other’s breath, their grips on each other’s fingers only lightened, but seemed to strengthen in their resolve to keep the other close. Lukas shifted to lean in further, to shorten the gap between them. All the while, neither one looked into each other’s eyes, out of fear that what they saw would only hinder them, would only break their resolve to take advantage of the last few hours in each other’s company.

  With their lips just inches apart, the most electrifying feeling making its way down both their spines, Gyles placed his hand on Lukas’ chest, keeping him at a distance. His dark brown eyes stared at the other’s lips with both longing and remorse. “No,” he whispered. He hung his head and, in doing so, rested his forehead against Lukas’. “I won’t leave with thoughts of me in your mind,” he said. “Or leave with thoughts that I’ve left someone behind.”

  “You’ll be on my mind regardless,” Lukas whispered, sinking the tips of his fingers deeper into his skin.

  Gyles’s hand tensed beneath Lukas’, clenching tighter around the rim of his cup, “I cannot have you on my mind,” he said. “I have what I must do and I cannot do so knowing that...” Lukas closed the gap before he could say anything else, before more of the absurdities consuming his mind could tumble any further out of his mouth. His heart panged hard in his chest. It was like something painful. Something lonely. Something beautiful. Something that put his mind at ease, even if just for a minute.

  ***

  Sybelle stood in her throne room, staring out of the window as though something had changed when, in truth, it hadn’t for days. There was no real movement on her shores, nothing more than the Azurian men enjoying the camp that they had set up, complete with lavish meals and tents filled with women of pleasure. Though she grew increasingly frustrated with the manner in which they had made themselves comfortable, she found it better, for now, to leave them to enjoy their newfound sense of security. Who knew, she thought, what ran through their minds about her capabilities. After all, they were not an exceptional amount of men. Perhaps a few hundred. Surely, they must have thought that a Queen with two Kingdoms beneath her would be able to scrounge up an equal number of men in a bid to fend them off. But solely fending them off was not what she desired. She wanted more.
And she would sooner disguise that with an air of inadequacy than have that known to them just yet.

  The large doors to the room creaked open, bringing her out of a self-imposed trance. She smiled at the messenger she’d grown familiar with. He did the same, bowing as far as his body would allow him as he extended his hand to her with a letter. She tore the envelope at the seal and paced the room as she read with a growing smile on her lips and a painful tug of regret in her heart. She nodded in the direction of the messenger, whispering with a hoarse voice, “See yourself to a good meal, have a rest and return to Evrad when you’re ready.”

  He left her alone in the dim room, the letter clasped between two fingers as she looked around, pondering her next few moves. The door had been left open, no longer leaving the room in the same peaceful silence she’d come to enjoy. Instead, from a fair distance, she could hear a ferocious argument going on, the words muffled by the thick walls. She folded the letter and kept it clutched in her hands as she walked down the corridor. She found Ewin standing not too far away, shifting uneasily as Deros and Bella spat abusive language back and forth between them in between an argument of Bella’s right of movement.

  “A lover’s quarrel?” Sybelle asked Ewin, in a quiet, somewhat amused voice.

  Ewin chuckled openly, bowing his head in a bid to hide it from the enraged couple in front of him. “Believe me, your Majesty, there’s not an ounce of love left between them,” he said.

  “What seems to be the problem?” Sybelle asked, unconvinced.

  “Deros would not have her leave the capital, but, with the capital locked down, she’s bored and wishes to venture out. He conceded, only on the condition she has an escort.”