Nightfall: Book Two of the Chronicles of Arden

by Shiriluna Nott

  Nawaz slumped back in his seat. “How are you?”

  Gib sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment. “Not good. I mean, how well should I be?”

  “I suppose you have a point.” Nawaz looked out toward the crowd and shook his head. “I said my goodbyes to Hasain and Joel yesterday. I didn’t want to see them off.”

  “It was somber. They left just as it started raining. It was like the world wept.”

  Nawaz didn’t look at him. “How was Joel?”

  Gib slammed his eyes shut. Nawaz didn’t know. No one knew. He had to tell someone before he burst, but in this moment he only wanted Kezra. Over the past three years, she’d come to his aid more than once. Rough around the edges, Kezra nevertheless was able to offer support in a way Gib’s other friends typically didn’t feel comfortable with. She was the only person he knew who could punch his shoulder with one arm while hugging him with the other. “Joel was—quiet.”

  “Probably kicking himself in the arse.”

  What was that supposed to mean? Gib looked Nawaz over narrowly and felt the first pang of suspicion blossoming in his chest. “What would he have to regret? He’s well on his way to having everything he wants.”

  Nawaz leaned across the booth and met Gib’s gaze head on and with such devotion that Gib almost had to look away. “Horse shit. It wasn’t an easy choice for him, Gib. You gotta know that.”

  “To go to the Northern Empire?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me. Joel came to me last night and—”

  A tidal wave of grief and rage floored Gib. Not only had Joel dismissed him but then he’d gone out and told others? Was nothing sacred anymore? Since when did they air their dirty laundry for everyone to see? “He did what?”

  “Keep your voice down. He needed someone to talk to. He came to me because he couldn’t think of anyone else.”

  Gib slammed his fist on the table and thought about getting up and leaving. “He could have spoken to me! He could have let me know he was going to tell everyone! He could have warned me the secret wasn’t a secret!” The words poured out of his mouth before his mind could catch up. He wasn’t making sense and was raving like a lunatic, but he didn’t care. How could Joel hurt him like this? Didn’t he care at all? Did Joel really think so little of him? Gib wiped at his eyes as tears threatened to fall.

  Nawaz looked like he’d been slapped across the face. His eyes were wide, and his mouth dropped open. It took him a moment to catch up and, when he did, his fair complexion had turned a dusty crimson. “Bad form! Don’t you know Joel well enough to know what you mean to him? He’s a good man. He thinks the world of you. He came to me because he was hurting and needed to talk. How can you begrudge him that?”

  Gib couldn’t answer. When he opened his mouth, only a sob escaped. He wiped his eyes again, but it was no use. He couldn’t keep up with the tears.

  Nawaz’s features softened. “Calm down. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so harsh with you. This has gotta be hell for you, too. Here.” He pulled a kerchief from his pocket and slid it across the table.

  Gib accepted it, wiping his wet eyes and blowing his nose. He needed to pull himself together. Kezra and Nage could come back any minute. Kezra. “Does Kezra already know, too?”

  Nawaz twisted his ring around his finger absently. Gib watched as the Adelwijn insignia came into view and disappeared with each rotation. “She was there with me last night. I mean, Joel knew she was there. He came to talk to me, but Kez was there, too.” He stopped fumbling for words and went quiet.

  Gib looked down at his hands. Truthfully, he didn’t begrudge Nawaz or Kezra for being involved. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I was angry—I am angry. I know Kezra is trustworthy and Joel knows as well. It’s just hard to—” He took a ragged breath. “It’s hard to accept that it’s real. He’s really gone, and he doesn’t want me anymore.”

  Nawaz shook his head. “Not true, not for an instant. Joel is going through a rough time right now. He’s trying to find his way. The life of an envoy is difficult, and he didn’t want you to be forced to wait for him if he’s going to be gone so often.” Blue eyes sought to make contact, and Gib obliged only because he felt guilty for being so foul a moment before. “You have to know that letting you go is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. It’s not a decision he made lightly. You do know that, don’t you?”

  Of course Gib knew it. Somewhere deep down, he understood this choice hadn’t been an easy one for Joel but couldn’t help feeling the raw hurt. “It’s going to take time. I don’t want to hate him—hell, I don’t even know if I can get over him.” Gib dabbed his nose with the kerchief again. “And I’m sorry for the way I spoke of him. You’re right, it was bad form.”

  “You don’t have to apologize to me. If I were in your shoes I’d do worse. I’d probably knock somebody’s teeth out and land my arse in the stockades for my efforts.” Nawaz chuckled, but it sounded hollow.

  Gib sighed. He didn’t know what to say to that.

  They sat in silence for a time before his ears detected the sound of familiar voices approaching. Gib wiped his face one more time for good measure, winning a discreet nod from Nawaz, and took a deep breath. Gib didn’t want to be a complete mess if he was going to meet Nage’s lady friend.

  “Well look at what the cat dragged in,” Nage taunted in a chipper voice. He carried a drink in either hand and walked arm in arm with his guest.

  Gib tried to smile but knew his best attempt fell flat.

  Nage was preoccupied, however, and seemed to take no notice. He could barely take his eyes off the young woman by his side. “Gib, this is Nia Leal.”

  She was all smiles and kind eyes. Gib noted how her soft brown hair and round face looked undoubtedly like the girl who’d seen Cenric off that morning. Nia curtsied and offered a hand. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Gibben Nemesio. Nage has told me so much about you.”

  Gib took her hand and laid a gentle kiss upon it, playing the part as though he’d been born into the highborn world himself. “The pleasure is all mine. I hope Nage has chosen to tell you good things.”

  “Nope.” Nage didn’t elaborate further, but the glimmer in his eyes gave away his fib.

  Nia laughed and allowed Nage to help her into the booth. “Of course he said all good things. It’s not every day one gets to boast knowing the hero who saved the King.”

  Gib’s cheeks burned. Daya, are people still going on about that? “It’s really not the adventure folks make it out to be. I was in the right place at the right time. Anyone else would have done the same.”

  Nia’s eyes were a lovely piercing green and exuded intelligence. She grinned and leaned to speak into Nage’s ear—though she did so loudly enough for everyone to hear. “You’re right. He’s too modest.”

  Nage shot Gib a grin. “Told ya. If it had been me, everyone would know what I did. I’d be my own biggest fan.”

  Kezra approached the booth behind the happy couple, carrying two mugs as well. She frowned down at Nawaz upon arrival. “Oh, there you are. I suppose your hands are broken and you couldn’t carry your own drink?”

  “I wouldn’t want to hinder your independence, Lady Malin-Rai.” Nawaz smiled as if he’d been doing it all night and laughed like he hadn’t shared heated words with Gib moments before. It occurred to Gib how much Nawaz could be likened to his uncle. Marc had played the same fool that very morning while seeing the envoys off.

  Kezra wasn’t buying Nawaz’s charm. She arched one brow and spat at him, “I’ll hinder your silver tongue when I cut it from your mouth!”

  Nawaz laughed and took one of the mugs from her. “I was gonna carry my own drink, but then I found this waif and brought him back to our table.” He pointed at Gib.

  Kezra looked at Gib for the first time, and her features softened for just an instant. If Gib hadn’t known to look, he would have never even seen it. “Finally took a night to yourself, did you?”

  “Thought I’d co
me bother you,” Gib replied, forcing a smile. “Maybe have a chat.”

  Her nod was almost unperceivable, but Gib knew she understood he wanted to speak privately. “A little later?”

  If that was the best she could do, then he would wait. It would be awkward to get up and leave the others now. Nage would no doubt question their absence, and Nawaz would likely be hard pressed to come up with a clever lie to disguise what was really going on. Gib sighed. He wasn’t ready to share the truth with everyone yet—especially Nage, who seemed to be so happy.

  Their party grew in size by one more person just then as Kezra’s elder brother, Zandi Malin-Rai, trotted over to the table, carrying a drink of his own. His high voice rang across the tavern, and his fierce emerald eyes were narrowed into slits. “Thanks for leaving me by myself back there, Kezra! I looked up and you were gone.”

  Kezra scooted closer to Nawaz, allowing her brother room to sit. “Oh, shut your mouth. If you can’t find your way from the bar to the table then you have no right to be out on your own.”

  “Yes, mother.” Zandi sat with an exasperated huff and took a drink from his mug. Looking across the table for the first time, he landed his gaze on Gib and just about choked. “Oh, h–hello.”

  Gib nodded with a half-smile. “Hello again.”

  “What’s the game tonight?” Nawaz asked before awkward silence could bloom. He was already pulling a deck of cards from his pocket and counting heads. “Any suggestions?”

  “No gambling,” Kezra said. “We wouldn’t want to give Nia the wrong impression here.”

  Nia smiled slyly. “Oh? I’d be willing to bet I could match you in a game of wager, Lady Kezra. I happen to know my way around betting games.”

  Nage laughed, and Gib had to admit he hadn’t expected a lady such as Nia Leal to have any interest—let alone knowledge—of such boorish games.

  Kezra seemed even more surprised. Her mouth fell open, and for just a moment she appeared to be at a loss for words. Finally, she chuckled and replied, “All right then. If it’d please you, I’ll gladly kick your ar—show you up in a hand or two.”

  Laughter made its way around the table, and the game took off. Nia proved to be a formidable match for even Kezra, and by the time their drinks were gone, Nawaz and Nage were placing bets against each other’s companion. Nia remained every bit a highborn dame while Kezra was reduced to cursing most unlike a lady by the end of the game.

  Gib breathed a sigh of relief when at last the game was over, an entire mark later. Nage and Nia excused themselves quietly. She explained how she had a curfew and Nage had promised her mother he would walk her home. Nawaz gave them a lewd smile.

  Nia curtsied again. “It was so nice to meet all of you. I see now why Nage speaks highly of his friends.”

  Nawaz barked a laugh, and Kezra made a crude gesture. Nage shot them both a poisonous warning glare as he saw his lady to the door. There would be hell to pay later, Gib was sure of it. He almost wanted to smile.

  Zandi had remained oddly reserved throughout the game, nothing at all like he’d acted at the festival the day before. When they all stood to leave, he gathered the empty mugs and excused himself. He didn’t even say goodbye as he bustled toward the bar.

  When Nawaz asked Kezra for a single dance before they departed, she looked across the table at Gib. What could he do? Tell her no? Demand she listen to his woes instead of enjoying her time with Nawaz? No. He wouldn’t do that. Gib smiled weakly and motioned toward the door. “I’m gonna step out for some air. Meet me out there?”

  “All right. I won’t be long.” Kezra allowed Nawaz to lead her onto the floor where patrons were dancing and clapping along with the music.

  Gib didn’t stay to watch. Instead, he wandered to the porch, the frigid night air cutting against his face and hands. Shuddering, he pulled his cloak closer and made his way down the tavern steps. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to the sounds of people laughing and enjoying themselves. Bitterness rose like bile in his chest, and he ventured far enough to put some distance between himself and the tavern porch. He hoped Kezra wouldn’t have to look too hard for him.

  “Gibben Nemesio?”

  Zandi Malin-Rai’s melodic voice cut through the winter night.

  Gib’s breath caught. Not now. Why now? He didn’t know if he had the reserve for more interaction tonight. The air escaped his lungs in a rush as he turned to face the other man. “Yes?”

  Zandi’s eyes were wide and unsure. His dark complexion helped disguise the crimson tinge on his cheeks but didn’t hide it entirely. Gib wondered if it was the cold coloring them or something he wasn’t prepared to deal with.

  “It’s frigid out here. You’ll catch your death.” Zandi’s voice was soft, even shy.

  “I suppose. I’m not going to stay long. Kezra and I are going for a walk when she comes out.”

  “I see.” Zandi absently toyed with a tendril of his long, dark hair. The majority of his hair was tied back at the nap of his neck, but a few wisps had escaped the ribbon holding it in place. “You—you’re sure you don’t want to wait inside for her? I mean, she may be a few minutes.”

  Gib didn’t want to come across as rude, but he couldn’t think of anything nice to say. “I’m fine. I can handle a little bit of cold.”

  Zandi looked at the ground, some unpleasant emotion like dejection or hurt passing across his placid features. “Of course. Well, goodnight.” He turned awkwardly to leave.

  “Goodnight,” Gib replied coolly.

  Surely this would be the obvious end to their conversation. However, after taking only a few short steps, Zandi turned back, looking as conflicted as ever.

  “I’m sorry about Joel.”

  His stiff words pricked Gib’s skin. Sorry about what? How much did Zandi know? And how? Had Kezra or Nawaz told him, too? Irrational anger clenched at Gib’s heart, and he had to fight very hard not to lash out. He’d thought he had managed to get this under control back inside the tavern.

  “Sorry?” Even the single word dripped acid.

  Zandi recoiled. “I–I don’t mean to be so forward. I just—over time Kezra has mentioned you and your—Joel—in passing. I know the two of you are close.” He glanced around, as if looking for an escape, and Gib had to wonder if his rage was so evident. “It must be hard for you with him so far away. I’m sure you’re worried sick, but with the seneschal there, surely Joel is safe.”

  Joel? Safe? Then this can’t be about him and me parting ways. Zandi doesn’t know. Gib deflated, his rigid stance draining. He felt like a fool. Kezra and Nawaz were his friends. They wouldn’t tell others about what he was going through. He shouldn’t have doubted them. And he shouldn’t have taken it out on Zandi, who was only trying to wish him well. “Thank you. It is hard. I do worry for him but—you’re right, I’m sure.”

  The brief smile that crossed Zandi’s face was lovely and almost made Gib feel warm. “Worry does no good, you know. Perhaps you could think of what’s to come in the future, when Joel returns.” He took a tentative step closer.

  “Right. The future.” Gib caught himself before he could shake his head. This poor fool has no idea he’s rubbing salt in the wound. “The future will undoubtedly hold many new things. Nothing ever stays the same.”

  “The only constant thing is change—and the world is slowly changing.” Thinly veiled excitement buzzed in Zandi’s voice. “I know your mind and heart must be heavy right now, but you should know there are others who think highly of you and Joel for what changes you’re bringing.”

  Gib frowned. “Changes? I don’t follow.”

  Zandi glanced around as if to be sure they were alone. “The two of you being publicly unashamed. There are others who look up to the both of you. Gibben, you’re the understudy of the seneschal. If one day you sit on the High Council, there is hope for all who love unconventionally. Don’t you see?”

  Gib’s head was too full for this. What was Zandi saying? Was it the drink talking? Or were there actually
people out there who were paying attention to him? Joel had always been subjected to scrutiny—it came with the territory of being Koal’s son, but Gib? Why would anyone take note of him? He was just an impoverished farmer who’d been drafted into the military.

  “I’m no one to look up to. And Joel would rather not be in the public eye.”

  Zandi’s emerald eyes dashed around once again. “Whether you would have it or not, people have taken note. There are others—others like you and Joel—who envy your openness.”

  Gib clenched his jaw. On a different day this would have meant something more to him. If he weren’t busy mourning his loss and fretting for Joel’s welfare, he might have been more receptive to this conversation. But for now he was tired, lonely, and hurt.

  His voice came out as a harsh snap. “Then they would be fools. Being open about yourself is taxing. It kills you a little each time someone strikes you down—and there are many who strike us down. Tell your friends, or whoever they are, they need to look to someone else.” He turned his back and hoped Zandi would get the hint.

  Stifling silence claimed the night. Even the Rose Bouquet’s music seemed to be leagues away. Zandi sighed at long last. “There isn’t anyone else to look up to. Joel Adelwijn set a new standard when he proclaimed his preference for his own. There were so many who were against him but so many more of us who silently wished we could be so brave. And then you came along and fell in beside him without so much as batting an eye. And more than that? The seneschal has accepted you both! The King has looked the other way. Do you even know what sort of hero you are?”

  Gib ground his teeth together, hating himself a little for how he was behaving but unable to listen to this anymore. “Don’t you have somewhere to go?”

  “Send me away.” Zandi was standing right behind him now. When had he closed the gap? “But know you are a beacon of hope—whether you would have it or not.”