Nightfall: Book Two of the Chronicles of Arden

by Shiriluna Nott

  “I know it is.” Kirk’s voice was sympathetic. He took one step forward but seemed unwilling to move from his position beneath the doorframe. “And I’ll have you know, the way you’re feeling is perfectly justified. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.” He offered a weak smile. “You deserve as much space and time as you need.”

  “I—” Joel’s words caught in his throat. “I don’t mean to be so distant. It’s just—it’s how I grieve.”

  Kirk absently traced the embroidered sleeve of his tunic. “Cenric seemed like an honorable man.”

  “He was.” Joel swallowed. Not now. No more tears.

  Silence threatened to smother out even the roaring fire.

  “Well, I should be going,” Kirk said at long last. “I wouldn’t want to keep Dean Marc waiting.”

  “Good luck,” Joel replied. He tried to sound spirited but knew the attempt fell flat.

  “Goodbye, Joel.”

  Kirk departed, leaving Joel alone. The solitude was both a solace and a miserable reminder of his loss. With arms wrapped around his legs and chin resting gently on his knees, he uttered a choked sob. Will this pain ever fade?

  Gib shoved his hands farther into the pockets of his overcoat as he walked. Snow sloshed around his boots and even more fell from the sky to settle amongst his curls. I should have worn a hat. After sixteen winters, there’s no excuse. Good thing I’m not far from where I need to be.

  Face burning from the sharp wind, he all but ran the remaining furlong. The impressive grounds of the Adelwijn estate loomed ahead, and Gib stopped only long enough to pry the icy wrought-iron gate open before slipping into the courtyard and continuing on his way. A breath later and he stood before the tall, oak door. Habit and mannerism told him to knock, though Seneschal Koal and the rest of his family had made it perfectly clear that he didn’t need to.

  That was before though. When Joel and I were—

  Gib winced. Would Joel be here now? In his rush to be out of the cold, he’d allowed himself to forget the reason he’d been worrying himself sick for the past five days.

  Memories of Joel’s pale, bloodied face and terrified eyes came back to haunt Gib’s mind. The vision of Joel, crumpled in the snow beside the ruined portal, unable to speak coherently or even sit up without help, was a constant wrenching in his gut. Whatever nightmare the mage had faced in the Northern Empire had scarred him deeply. Bearing witness to his terrible sobs and tear-stained cheeks had wedged a blade into Gib’s heart, and he could think of nothing else but ensuring Joel was all right.

  He pushed through the heavy door just as Tabitha came to answer it. A young girl trailed the loyal servant, and Gib faintly recognized her as one of the two people who had come through the portal with the Ardenian envoys. That’s right. Koal mentioned in passing that they were staying here.

  Tabitha ushered him inside. She seemed genuinely surprised to see him. “Gibben, it’s been a while since you’ve visited.”

  “Duty has kept me busy,” he replied, knowing how lame he must have sounded. It wasn’t the truth. He’d been avoiding coming here because he felt that the privilege was no longer his. He and Joel were no more. Didn’t it make sense that he not come barging in as though he lived there?

  “Of course,” Tabitha replied. “You did a great service by assisting Lord Marc Arrio in the seneschal’s absence.” She motioned toward the Imperial girl. “This is Kenisha Bhadrayu, our honored guest.”

  Gib bowed his head, pushing aside the twinge of distrust that flared in his chest. “Thank you for helping my friends, Lady Kenisha. Without your assistance, they never would have escaped the evils of the Northern Empire.”

  A dusting of pink sprinkled the young girl’s oval face. “Just Kenisha, m’lord. I’m no lady, only a humble servant.”

  “I’m Gibben Nemesio, and I’m no lord either, just a humble understudy.”

  Gib’s words were rewarded with a shy smile. Briefly returning the gesture, he turned his attention back to Tabitha. “I’m here for Seneschal Koal. We’re to travel to the council meeting at the palace together. Can you tell him I’ve arrived?”

  “The seneschal is in his study,” Tabitha replied. “I’m sure he won’t be long. You’re welcome to wait in the sitting room for him. Otos just stoked the fire.”

  Gib sighed with relief. “Oh wonderful, my hands are freezing. Thank you, Tabitha.”

  The two young women giggled as they went toward the kitchen while Gib rambled through the long corridor leading to the sitting room. As he passed by the elegant staircase that led to the second story, his heart beat a little faster in his chest. Was Joel up there? Was he all right? Should I go see? Just to make sure he’s okay? No. Stop being an idiot. He hasn’t made any indication he wants to see you. Give him his damned space. Do you want to chase him farther away? Gib forced himself to keep moving.

  I should have just met Koal at the palace. I shouldn’t be here. He knew exactly why he’d come though. He wanted to see Joel. But only to ensure he was all right. Is there something so wrong with that? He’s been part of my life since the day I came to Silver. I can’t pretend his welfare doesn’t matter. I just want to hear it from him—that he’s okay without me.

  The promise of fire and warmth helped lift Gib’s spirits and he quickened his pace, but his mind was so full that he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. He nearly collided with a person traveling in the opposite direction.

  The Imperial boy who’d come through the portal with Koal and the others jumped out of Gib’s way, gasping sharply. Dressed in a green tunic and trousers, with deep brown hair and fair skin, he might have passed for an Ardenian if Gib hadn’t known better. Gib fished for the boy’s name. Kris? Kurt? Kiran? No. Kirk! That’s it.

  “O–oh, pardon me,” Kirk said, pressing his back against the wall even though the corridor had more than enough room for both of them. The Imperial boy’s face contorted, and confusion clouded his wide eyes. The boy was clearly trying to place Gib’s face.

  So many people were in the courtyard that night. I suppose he wouldn’t recognize me.

  Sparing the boy further embarrassment, Gib huffed a sigh. “I’m Gibben, Seneschal Koal’s understudy.” He didn’t mean for his voice to come out sounding so curt. Really, he had no reason to dislike Kirk, but just knowing he came from the same people who’d murdered Ambassador Cenric and nearly killed Koal left a bitter taste in Gib’s mouth, and he couldn’t shake the feeling.

  “Seneschal Koal is in his study,” Kirk whispered, giving no indication Gib’s name had meant anything to him.

  “Yes, I know. Thank you.” Again, Gib’s voice clipped without consent. Stop it. It’s not his fault Koal’s injured and Joel’s an emotional wreck. He helped them escape. Gib opened his mouth to issue an apology, but Kirk scooted past and Gib lost his chance.

  “Good day,” the Imperial boy said. He turned his back to Gib and departed. A few moments later, Gib heard the front door open and close.

  Nerves still frayed, Gib stuffed his hands into his pockets and continued to the sitting room. Stop. Just stop. Koal has entrusted these Imperials. There’s no reason to be so hostile.

  He’d already blundered into the sitting room before he realized someone occupied the couch. Hollow sapphire eyes rose to meet him, and Gib froze in place. “J–Joel.”

  Joel’s pale face looked ghostly in the firelight, and the dark rings beneath his eyes matched the horrible bruise on his nose. The mage’s shoulders were slouched, with frail arms wrapped around his legs, and the wet streaks on either cheek were proof enough that he’d been crying. Gib’s soul ached, the desire to rush to Joel’s side overriding any common sense he still possessed. He caught himself after only one step, however, and forced his feet to remain planted on the hard marble floor.

  “Gib,” Joel rasped. He wiped a sleeve across his face, but it was too late to hide the tears. “What—what are you doing here?”

  Gib winced. That hadn’t been the reaction he’d hoped for.
A sudden thought dawned on him. When Gib had passed Kirk in the corridor, the Imperial had come from this very room. He hadn’t made Joel cry, had he? Why had Kirk even been in there? What could he possibly have to say to Joel? Irrational jealousy sprang to life in Gib’s chest so sharply it startled him. Just stop. You’re being ridiculous! He cleared his throat. “I, uh, I’m here to see Koal. I didn’t—didn’t know you would be here.”

  “O–oh. You’re here for my father.” Joel sighed, and his shoulders lost a bit of their rigidity. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.” His hands flopped in the air, gesturing weakly at himself.

  Gib snorted. “Oh hell, you’ve never looked better.” When his comment was met with silent skepticism, he added tersely, “Well, you’re still prettier than me anyway.”

  Joel’s laugh was broken. “Stop it.”

  “Seriously. I especially love what you’ve done with your snout. The ladies at court will be jealous.”

  A single tear rolled down Joel’s cheek, and Gib knew his joke had fallen short. Unable to stop himself, he reached a hand toward the other man. “If—if you need someone to talk to, you know I’m here for you, don’t you?”

  Joel glared at the floor. “I’m fine.”

  Gib didn’t want to push Joel too far, but he called the bluff for what it was. Three steps across the cold tiles found him standing before the mage. “That’s horseshit. No one would be ‘fine’ after what you’ve been through.”

  Joel still refused to meet Gib’s gaze, and his heart sank. He’s doing it again. He’s shutting me out. Dammit, it took so long to get him to open up. I can’t let him barricade himself inside a shell again. He needs to talk to me!

  “You don’t have to always be so stoic,” Gib murmured. “It’s okay to crumble. I’m here—there are people here to hold you up. People who love you.” With a tentative hand, he reached out to cup the side of Joel’s face. “Please don’t shut me out. Let me help you.”

  Devastating blue eyes rose, wavering but able to hold Gib’s. Joel stared at him with a measuring gaze and Gib could sense the mage’s conflict. Joel parted trembling lips—surely he meant to say something profound—but a moment later, his demeanor went frigid. Joel locked his jaw and looked away.

  Gib let his hand fall. The opportunity had passed. Joel’s rejection stung like a deep gash in Gib’s flesh, but he could do nothing else, could utter no words, to change the other man’s mind.

  I’ll wait. He just needs time.

  The study door flew open, jarring Gib from his reverie of misery. Koal walked into the room, his left arm in a sling, leaving him with only one hand to carry his rucksack. Gib jumped to assist the seneschal. The distraction helped hold the tears at bay.

  Chapter Twelve

  “You don’t have to carry that for me, you know. I’m no cripple.”

  Gib grinned at his mentor as he readjusted the pack slung over his shoulder. “You could have fooled me with that sling.”

  “Laugh it up.” Koal groaned as they made their way through the palace halls. “Marc could hardly speak for laughing so hard when he discovered the King and I would have matching scars.”

  A chuckle escaped before Gib could reel it in. “He has a point. Opposite shoulders, but I’ve thought it myself.”

  A small smile peeked at the corner of Koal’s mouth, a welcome sight after the somber mood he’d been in earlier. “I suppose. Rishi jumped at the opportunity to declare himself the ‘handsome twin.’ It’s good to see neither of them matured since I left.”

  Gib didn’t have the heart to tell his mentor the truth about how much Marc and King Rishi had suffered in Koal’s absence. Maybe there would be a time to inform the seneschal, but today was far too soon. Koal needed to focus his attention on restoring order to the High Council and reigning in that imbecile, Neetra.

  Their conversation went stale as the council room doors loomed ahead, but the silence was companionable. Gib was content to let the calm envelop him. His thoughts touched on Joel again. He recognized that the mage wanted space, but Gib also knew Joel well enough to realize he would lock his emotions inside until he burst. Surely there must be something Gib could do. If he won’t talk to me, perhaps someone else will have better luck. Nawaz and Diddy came to mind. Joel had always been close with them. I can’t just idly watch as he suffers.

  “Oh, there you are. Back on your feet, are you?”

  Gib stiffened as Neetra Adelwijn’s jarring voice called down the corridor.

  Koal turned to face his younger brother, and Gib could hear the seneschal utter a grunt. “You’d have seen me on my feet sooner, had you come to visit me.”

  Neetra waved a dismissive hand as he approached, and Gib noticed with dismay that Liro trailed the High Councilor. “I would have heard if you were on death’s door. I received no such message, therefore, I assumed you were recuperating.”

  Gib could feel himself sneering. He wished Koal realized what sort of trouble Neetra had made while the seneschal was gone. If only Koal knew how viciously his brother had goaded King Rishi or his attempts to sweet talk the members of the High Council into making unsavory decisions.

  Neetra nonchalantly pushed onto another topic. “There have been whispers that you’ve consented to allow Nawaz and Heidi to marry. Is it true?”

  The air around them went still, and Gib didn’t have to look at his mentor to know he was livid. Koal’s good hand balled into a fist at his side. “You were missed at Cenric’s funeral.”

  Neetra didn’t even bat an eye. “Missed? I doubt that.”

  “He was honored as a hero. He gave his life for Arden. The High Councilor should have been there to pay his respects.”

  “My time is often not my own. You know that. I had a previous engagement.”

  Gib gritted his teeth when he caught Liro leering. Though Gib hadn’t known Cenric well, he knew enough to understand Neetra’s flippant attitude was entirely unacceptable.

  “So,” Neetra continued. “About Nawaz and Heidi—”

  Koal pressed his lips together. “This is hardly the time or place to discuss this.”

  “You’ve been avoiding this discussion for three years, brother. It’s most unbecoming for a man of your position to be so noncommittal. What’s your answer?”

  The seneschal clenched his jaw and stole a look around the corridor. Gib imagined he might be looking for an escape route and didn’t fault him. “I’ve told you before, Nawaz may have Heidi’s hand if—and only if—he asks for it properly. I won’t force my daughter into an unhappy marriage no matter how badly she may think she wants it. I’ve decided to grant him permission to court her, but that doesn’t mean there’ll be a wedding any time soon.”

  The victorious spark in Neetra’s eyes made Gib’s stomach flip. Even Liro’s dull expression lifted in surprise. Koal turned his face away, conflict lacing his features.

  Gib’s stomach flopped like a fish out of water. Nawaz had been fretting over this very thing not long ago. He’d even begged Marc to send him to the border to avoid marriage. At the time, Gib had been unsure Koal would ever consent anyway, but clearly something had changed the seneschal’s mind. Did Heidi know? Nawaz certainly didn’t, and Kezra— Gib couldn’t breathe. Kezra needs to know.

  “It will be her choice to accept or not,” Neetra said. “I care not who the dolt marries, but it’s high time he does. My generosity can only extend so far. It’s time for him to be out from under my roof.”

  The seneschal frowned and countered Neetra on the wisdom of pushing a marriage onto someone who wasn’t ready. Gib’s rational mind knew he should probably listen and try to glean more details from their exchange, but all he could think about was Kezra. He could do nothing to help Joel, but he could try to help her. He glanced around, wishing for the life of him that he could excuse himself from just this one meeting. Surely Koal would allow it if he could conjure up a good enough reason.

  It wasn’t meant to be. Gib could see the King and his bodyguard arriving. The mee
ting would be called to order shortly. There wasn’t going to be a chance for Gib to ask to leave, let alone receive permission.

  King Rishi’s mood plummeted as he drew closer, his neutral features hardening. He cast a smoldering glare at Neetra but offered no words. Gib barely spared the King or Aodan a glance as he tried to remember if Kezra would be on duty that evening.

  “You look awful, Aodan.” Neetra’s voice was cool, void of any care or sympathy. “You’re not ill, are you?”

  Gib raised his eyes from the floor and realized Neetra was right. Aodan looked like hell. With dark rings beneath his eyes and a severe, gaunt look about his face, he reminded Gib of someone who hadn’t slept in days.

  The bodyguard curled his nose. “Why don’ ya sit with me today an’ find out?”

  Neetra’s utter disgust would have been comical if not for the circumstances. “Repulsive! If you bring some disease into the council room and infect the rest of us, I feel you should be held accountable!”

  Liro had remained quiet until now, but something in their conversation must have captured his attention. He flashed a smug smile at Koal. “You know, Father, I didn’t see the Derr at Ambassador Cenric’s funeral. Will he receive a tongue lashing as well or were we purposely sparing the envoy’s wife from having to tolerate his presence?”

  The King turned sharply, mouth open and nose curled, but Koal responded first. “Aodan answers to the King alone. Worry not about him, Liro.”

  Cruel contempt lingered in Liro’s eyes. “I don’t worry for him, believe you me. I’m simply at a loss as to how someone could look so tired while their duties remain so light.”

  King Rishi had had enough. “You spoiled, petulant child! What would you know of work? You certainly have no idea when to hold your tongue!”

  If Liro was intimidated by the scolding, he didn’t show it. Cool as ice, he offered a sly response. “Apologies, Highness. I only meant that perhaps your guardian should consider taking a holiday if he’s overwhelmed. Maybe a trip to visit family is in store? The mountains, perhaps?”