Chapter Seventeen #2
It reminds me of the bonaria plant, whose petals sparkle like glass and invite you in, only to stop your heart with a drop of the poison lurking beneath its beauty.
Those other-wordly eyes slide to me, and the stranger tilts his head, a wrinkle in his brow. “You.”
Like an idiot, I point a finger at my face, still tucked behind Gray. “Me?”
His eyes sweep over me, and when they linger on my chest, I’m a second away from spewing sharp words. But then my eyes flick down, and I realize I’m still wrapped in nothing but blood-stained bandages. Heat blooms in my cheeks.
“You're injured,” he states without a hint of fluctuation. “Are the wounds infected?”
“No,” Gray replies for me, with no small amount of bite lacing through the word. “I’ve attended to her wounds personally, and ensured they remained clean. I was just about to redress her, but your unexpected arrival has delayed that task.”
I glance up at Gray, my brow severely arched.
The stranger cocks his head at the underlying pointedness in Gray’s tone. “Is that so?” His reply comes out like a sultry hum.
“It is.”
The cloaked figure standing to the right of the intimidating stranger finally drops his hood, revealing shoulder-length ruby-red hair. “Now, now, gentlemen. Claws are for beasts, and we are civilized creatures, so I suggest you put them away.”
A sharp gasp escapes from my lips.
That hair. Those features. That distinctive…smirk.
I step forward and around Gray. “I know you,” I breathe, my brows scrunched tightly across my forehead. “I saw you during The Founding celebration.”
His wry smirk widens, and it takes all of a few seconds to realize this is a person prone to mischief.
I also can’t help but notice that he, like his traveling companion, is highly attractive.
But whereas the other stranger is rough and unrefined, he is soft and elegant.
The contrast is a little jarring, honestly.
Like seeing a wild, unruly black wolf trot around with a beautiful, sly fox.
The red-haired man taps a pondering finger against his chin.
“The Founding, you say? I’m normally rather drunk for those festivities.
Was it a few years back when Lord Petushka almost fell on his own sword trying to perform a trick?
I do recall causing quite the spectacle with my insistent laughter. ”
I’m normally rather drunk for those festivities .
Which means he is someone who frequently receives invitations to them. Which also probably means these two standing before us are high ranking nobles.
Still, is he being serious right now?
I arch a suspecting brow. When I glance back at the dark-haired, bright-eyed male next to him, I catch a flicker of something passing through his features, and I can’t tell whether it’s amusement or vexation.
I release a sigh. “The Founding celebration that just passed only a few short days ago in the Rivara Kingdom. It featured unauthorized magic. The lights went out. The king yelled.” I fold my arms across my chest and cock my head at him.
“You’re a fire-wielder. I remember because I saw you flicking flames to life in the oil lamps. ”
His smirk grows. “Oh,” he chirps. “That one. Yes, I remember that one.” He tilts his head, amusement twinkling in his eye. “Rather astute, aren’t you? ”
My eyes narrow on him. “I caught you smirking at me. Why? Is it that…” I swallow. “Were you the one who touched me?”
I’m not sure why I’m so desperate to know. But for some unidentifiable reason, I cannot get that small touch out of my head. The way the simple gesture felt. Like someone whispered the words do not let them break you into my mind, as if they wanted me to know I wasn’t alone.
His sapphire eyes do not break away from me as he coos, “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”
The shaggy-haired stranger to the left frowns at me, a deeply pronounced curve in his brow. “Has no one ever smirked at you before? Is it truly such a rare occasion that you have to question why?”
My face twists with annoyance as my mouth pops open, and the red-haired stranger bites down on his grin. He covers his mouth with a fist—fighting against a laugh—and shrugs, the gesture graceful and casual. “What can I say? I’m known to always have a smirk on my face.”
“A little unnerving if you ask me,” Gray mumbles under his breath.
But I’m still focused on what the dark-haired male just said.
I take a few steps forward, closing the distance between us, and point my finger into his chest. “I don’t know who you think you are or where you come from—only that you’re clearly some pampered noble who’s used to speaking to people like that—but you will not speak to me with such disrespect. ”
I didn’t leave Keziah behind just to be treated the same by men.
The man next to him blows out a low whistle.
Languidly, the towering stranger flicks his peculiar eyes down toward my finger and slowly pushes it away with his hand. “Hit a sensitive subject, did I?”
His brush of skin against mine sends a small shiver down my spine, putting me on high alert.
My brows furrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Only that people must never truly smile at you. Go on,” he says coolly. “Interrogate my traveling companion all you want. It makes sense now—why you’re so desperate to understand.”
“I am not desperate,” I seethe between clenched teeth.
“No? You’re not doing a good job of showing otherwise, then.”
I clench my fists at my side and pinch my teeth into the skin of my cheek.
Before I can say anything else, Gray clears his throat. “Perhaps names are a good place to start. I’m Gray.” He outstretches a hand. “Gray Nightenjoy.”
The stare between the towering stranger and me remains gridlocked, and I am entirely unwilling to back down—I won’t let him win.
The only problem is, it appears he is knowingly participating in this unannounced game, because as the thought crosses my mind, a small curve tugs at the corner of his lip, as if he just read the very thought in my eyes.
The man with ruby-red hair takes Gray’s hand in his. “Oh? A Nightenjoy, huh. You have quite the reputable bloodline. I’m Kiran.”
The omission of his surname does not go unnoticed by me, and I’m sure Gray notices, too.
Gray turns his attention to the insouciant stranger next. Yet his eyes remain fixed on me.
“Draven,” he supplies in a cool, unhurried tone, not bothering to meet Gray’s outstretched hand.
Again, no surname.
When all remaining eyes slide to me, I realize I’m the only one who has yet to provide their name. I lift my chin—keeping my eyes defiantly locked on the stranger—and muster all the confidence a girl who is shirtless, wrapped only in blood-soaked bandages, possibly can. “Lyra Izacalli.”
I hear the smile in Kiran’s voice as he inquires, “And what is it you are doing out in Foreigner’s Valley, Lyra Izacalli?”
I keep my eyes locked on the dark-haired stranger, Draven, still not backing down. “I should ask the same of you.”
Kiran makes a rapid ticking noise and sings, “Uh-uh. We provided our names first. In the spirit of fairness, it’s your turn to answer.”
I finally rip my eyes from Draven and click my tongue at Kiran—which results in him grinning even wider .
“We are traveling to Bathara to participate in its entrance exams,” Gray answers smoothly. He spares me a soft glance before returning his eyes to Kiran. “For reasons we won’t disclose, we had to travel through the valley to reach Bathara.”
Kiran’s eyes bounce between the two of us, something that looks a hell of a lot like shock swimming in his expression. “ Both of you plan to participate in the entrance exams?”
The underlying tone in his voice is…odd. Especially for someone just meeting us.
Gray dips chin. “We do.”
Kiran’s sapphire eyes flick to Draven, something inscrutable passing through them. “I see,” he muses much more gently than before.
Draven folds his arms across his chest, pushing the fabrics of his cloak up, revealing a collage of black tattoos winding around his considerably toned forearms—so saturated in black, they almost seem to swallow the light.
With his eyes still locked on me—his stare intense and unsettling—he inquires, “Why were you forced to travel through the valley?”
Gray opens his mouth to reply, but I comment back faster than the words can leave his lips. “That is none of your concern.”
Draven lifts a dark brow, but says nothing.
And the ghost of his smirk has my blood warming with growing agitation.
Gray breathes out a near-silent sigh before addressing Kiran. “Why is your party traveling through the valley?”
A wry smile pulls at Kiran’s lips. “We are on an… undisclosed scouting mission.”
My head tilts while my brows furrow deeply. “Scouts? In Foreigner’s Valley? What are you scouting?”
Draven’s answer comes swift and dry. “None of your concern.”
His pettiness pushes my simmering annoyance toward a full-fledged boil. And clearly, being within the valley these past few days has diminished my court training, because my lip openly curls at him while I click my tongue .
He huffs under his breath, clearly amused with himself, and the sound reverberates low and deep in his throat.
“As it so happens,” Kiran drawls, his tone the exact opposite of Draven’s, “we are scouting for Bathara.” He glances at Draven, then at me, before they fall back on Gray.
“Normally, we wouldn’t do this. But given the nature of these circumstances, I fear I’d regret it if I did not extend an offer to have you join our party and return to Bathara with us.
” He pinches his chin, openly considering something.
“It’s not everyday a Nightenjoy attempts to enter the academy, after all.
Tell me, have you considered which aggregate you’d hope to be Selected into if you pass the exams? ”
I catch the twitch of Draven’s brows, and I notice the way his eyes dart to the side toward Kiran. It’s the sort of look that, if it ever carried a physical repercussion, would result in a stab wound.
“I haven’t,” Gray answers. “Why do you ask? Are you students?”
“Something like that,” Kiran chirps, clasping his hands behind his back. He cocks his head. “So, what’ll it be? Care to join us?”
Gray glances at me before back at Kiran. “It’s not solely my decision to make. She and I need to discuss it first.”
Draven’s reply comes gruff and swift. “Redress her wounds and talk it over. Find us when you’re finished. You have an hour.” Then, without so much as another glance, he turns on his heels and strides back to his black stallion.
Kiran studies Gray and me a moment longer. As if amused by whatever he sees, he chuckles under his breath and croons, “Hope to be traveling with you soon.”