34. Chapter 34 #2
As he let his blade slide back into its scabbard, his body threatened to rebel, to charge anyway.
The muscles under his skin burned from the force of restraint.
He gripped the corner of the stone fascia where they hid between two shops.
His eyes blurred, as if to escape the torture it was to see an opportunity so close and not take it.
He couldn’t even look at the king now, and he shifted his gaze to Norah.
She stood, smiling, still not knowing Cyrus was there. Not knowing how close to death her husband truly was.
Suddenly, her smile fell. She glanced around the market, searching, as if she could feel his eyes on her.
Cyrus stole himself back against the stone corner, out of sight.
“What’s wrong?” Orion asked.
“If she sees me, she’ll recognize me,” he said.
Orion shifted, leaning past Cyrus to check. “I don’t think she did,” he said finally.
Slowly, Cyrus peered out again.
Norah had started back toward the main gates of the city, with the Shadow King and the commander with her. They were leaving.
Regret clawed at him as he watched his life’s purpose walk away.
Orion’s promise proved true. More than true. Not only did another opportunity come, but it was an opportunity even better than the one before.
As darkness came, the king broke away from his army again to stop overnight at a castle that had been converted into an inn.
Cyrus guessed it was for Norah—a break from the discomforts of travel.
The Shadow commander went with them, as well as a group of warriors, but Cyrus wasn’t concerned about them this time.
He didn’t expect they’d be in the room with the king.
It did pose the challenge of how Cyrus would get in, though. He hid in the shadows outside, looking for options. The king wouldn’t likely be on the same side of the castle as the adjoining pub, nor would he be on the ground floor. So somewhere on the west side—
“Hey,” Orion said quietly beside him as they waited. “After this, I want you to grant me leave to go to Mercia.”
Cyrus stalled in his thoughts. His throat grew dry. “Let’s talk about it after.”
“I know you didn’t see Vitalia in the queen’s mind, but that doesn’t mean she’s not there.”
Cyrus had to tell him. But not now. “We have to focus on the Shadow King right now; we’ll talk about this after .”
“No. You told me to wait, and I’ve waited. But after this, I want to go.”
“Orion—”
“I’ve been a loyal servant to your cause, and this is all I’ve asked in return.”
“All right,” Cyrus said finally. He couldn’t argue this, not here, not now. “I’ll give you leave to do whatever you want, go wherever you want.” If he still wanted to go after he knew the truth. “I’ll even give you whatever you need to get there, but right now, we have to focus on this.”
Satisfied, Orion nodded.
Now they needed to find where the king was staying.
“You take the east side,” Cyrus told him, “I’ll take the west.” He looked at Jaem. “You check out the pub. We’ll all meet on the back side.”
They split.
It was a solidly built castle, the stone stacked clean. Climbing wasn’t an easy option. A few doors provided viable prospects, but he’d rather not come from the inside, to avoid the Shadow guards at their posts.
He paused as his eyes caught on a high window. The shutters were closed, but candlelight spilled from the cracks. He noted the room as a possibility.
Cyrus caught up with Orion and Jaem on the back side, and they crouched low in the darkness.
“The pub is full,” Jaem said. “But I didn’t see any Shadowmen.”
“I took a quick look inside too,” Orion added. Of course he had. “The pub might be full but there’s practically no one staying at the inn. The king will be in the only occupied room, I think.”
Well, that made things easier. “There’s candlelight from a window on the west corner.”
“That has to be him.”
“How’d you get in?” Cyrus asked him.
“The front door.”
Cyrus couldn’t see Orion’s face, but he still stared at his shadow. “That easy?”
“For me, not for you.” The assassin gave a small chuckle.
“Stealth isn’t your strength, my friend.
But there is a trellis on the pub side. You can climb that and take the roofline over, drop down to the wall walk, and climb through the corner merlons to this sort of…
decorative mid-relief that runs all the way around.
I think you could walk it if you’re careful. How’s your balance?”
“Good. I think.” He hoped.
“You know,” Orion said, “I should really be the one doing this.”
Cyrus shook his head. “No. I need to do it.”
Orion sighed. “Right. The Destroyer is tending the horses, so if we’re going to go, I suggest we go now.”
Cyrus shifted in surprise. “The commander? Tending the horses?”
“Look, I’m just telling you what I saw. The Destroyer is with the horses, so that means the king is alone in his room.”
Alone with Norah.
Again, Cyrus hated this for her, but there was no getting around it. She’d see her husband die tonight.
“Wait for us on the south ridge,” Cyrus told Jaem. “See if you can find some horses.”
Cyrus didn’t waste any more time. He and Orion made their way along the roofline from the tavern to the west side of the castle.
Cyrus’s balance wasn’t as good as he’d remembered it being, but it was good enough to get him past the wall walk.
He paused for a moment before he dropped down to the window ledge.
“Hey,” he told Orion. “If this goes poorly, get yourself out. If I’m captured, you need to make Essandra break the tether.” He’d already broken it for Orion.
“How would I even fucking do that?” Orion reached out and caught his arm. “I’m not leaving you.”
Cyrus stilled. There were only a couple of people he would believe if they told him that. This man was one of them. And those words… Whenever he heard them, those four words healed something ever so slightly more within him.
“So don’t be an idiot,” Orion added.
With a final nod, Cyrus dropped down to the window ledge while Orion waited on the roof.
He paused for a moment, drawing a deep breath. And waited.
Then came the calm—the calm of violent promise. He trusted this calm. It was what he’d relied on in the arena; it was what he relied on now.
His senses sharpened, and his skin prickled in anticipation. His heart beat heavily. Not nervous. Eager.
Slowly, he cracked the shutter and pushed open the hinged window. It complied silently, but the air snuffed the candle, and he froze.
He waited a little more.
All was quiet.
Cyrus slipped between the cracked windowpanes and sidled up into the shadows of the drapery.
His eyes searched the darkness.
The bitter taste of disappointment clawed up the back of his throat as he realized—the Shadow King wasn’t there.
Cyrus combed the room—it didn’t appear to be the wrong room. The queen was asleep on the bed. But where was the king? Perhaps he was in a different chamber, or perhaps he’d join her shortly.
Maybe Cyrus should wait.
Norah stirred and sat up. “Mikael?” she called.
Cyrus pressed back into the shadows. His heart beat in his chest. The last time he’d seen her as she slept, he’d been trying to kill her. The thought soured his stomach now.
He cursed himself. The king wasn’t here; he couldn’t stay. He needed to leave before she discovered him, but he didn’t dare move.
“I know you’re there,” she said.
Well, shit.
At least she didn’t know who was there.
His heart beat faster. Should he let her see him?
Could he deceive her in the darkness the way he deceived her in her mind?
The last they’d talked, she had told him she wouldn’t call him back again.
He’d come anyway. Would she be angry? Would she talk to him?
He couldn’t deny the want for her to talk to him again, and before he knew what he was doing, he stepped forward into the moonlight.
His hood covered him, not yet revealing his face.
She didn’t startle. She didn’t say anything. She only stared at him. Then, slowly, she rose to her knees and moved to the edge of the bed, stepping down onto the floor and putting the large piece of furniture between them.
He waited, unmoving.
“What do you want?” she asked. Her voice was low, but it wasn’t weak. She moved slowly around to the foot of the bed as she spoke.
He didn’t answer her. He wouldn’t.
She moved closer. “Why are you here?” She cocked her head to the side. “I should tell you about the last time I woke to a strange man in my room.” She paused. “I hate to spoil a good story, but it didn’t end well for him. For any of them.”
He remembered. If only she knew…
Norah drew closer. She was right in front of him now, but still, he made no move.
Then he felt the cold of a steel dagger as she whipped it to his throat.
“Final words?” she hissed.
Her speed surprised him. And he hadn’t realized she’d had a dagger in her hand.
Impressive.
She hadn’t been weak before, but she was even stronger now.
Cyrus held his hands up, showing her he meant her no harm, because he didn’t. But she clearly didn’t believe him, as she dug the tip of the dagger into his skin.
Did he dare to show himself to her? He couldn’t. He couldn’t explain now. It would jeopardize everything. He couldn’t reveal himself. Yet… he couldn’t not show himself.
Ever so slowly, he reached up and pulled back his hood.
Norah sucked in a ragged breath, and the knife in her hand dropped to the floor.
Still, he didn’t move.
“What magic is this?” she whispered as she stumbled back. No doubt it was a shock for her—him appearing without the blood.
He stood, waiting, his heart pounding.
Norah reached out, her hand shaking, as she stepped forward again. Her fingertips touched him, and he felt her. He actually felt her this time.
She spread her hand flat against his chest. Her touch was warm and soft, and still filled with grief.
She gaped up at him. “How is this possible?”
But he couldn’t tell her that. Not yet.
Her eyes glistened in the moonlight, stirring his own emotion. Never had someone looked at him like this. Touched him like this. It was the touch of longing. Of missing. Of loving.
He knew this already, he’d seen her love in her mind, but to be standing here in the flesh, truly feeling it from her—it was a power in itself, capturing him, holding him.
“How are you here?” she whispered.
He was desperate to tell her, but still, he said nothing.
Cyrus raised a hand to her cheek. She closed her eyes against his warmth. She wanted his touch, needed it even.
Then she threw her arms around him. She held him. Tightly. So tightly, like she couldn’t let him go. There was a desperation, a need, and she clung to him.
And he let himself hold her back. He’d never been needed. In the arena—yes. In battle—yes. To build a kingdom—yes. But in love…
No.
And to feel that love now… He was at a loss for words. He couldn’t speak even if he tried.
She stepped back for a moment but still held on to his hands. She held him like she was scared to let him go.
He didn’t want her to let him go.
Slowly, he brought his hand up again and brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek. She leaned into his touch.
And the pull toward her was like nothing he’d ever felt.
He couldn’t help himself. Because he wasn’t himself. He stepped forward and caught her mouth with his. He wasn’t sure what made him kiss her. Maybe it was the way she looked at him. The way she needed him. The way she loved him.
Cyrus lost himself to logic and reason, and, suddenly, it wasn’t Norah he was kissing.
His body moved on its own, walking her backward. She stumbled, and he caught her. He would never let her fall. But she spread her palms on his chest and pushed against him, breathing words against his mouth.
Cyrus wasn’t sure what she said, yet he paused. Was she all right? He couldn’t see her face in his shadow under the moonlight, but her touch still permeated through him. He brushed her cheek and dropped his head to hers again.
“No,” she said, clearly this time, and pushed harder against him. Her voice sounded strange in his ears.
He stopped. Something was wrong.
“This isn’t who you are,” she said, “or who I am. This isn’t what we were.”
Confusion flooded him. She loved him. He could feel it radiating off her. He could see it even in the darkness.
“My heart belongs to another,” she whispered. “You can’t be here. Not like this.”
He knew he couldn’t be there. But he was.
“Alexander,” she whispered.
His brother’s name in his ear jarred him, and he stiffened. Suddenly, he felt very much like a fool. This was Norah. It was Alexander she loved. Had he really forgotten? No—he’d known. But there was a want inside him that played tricks on his mind. A want that pulled at him.
What was he even doing? He cursed himself.
He shouldn’t even be here.
He never should have come.
She drew back from him, putting her hand over her face and drawing in a breath, and he seized his chance. Three silent steps to the window, and he slipped out and swung himself against the ledge. Quickly making his way back to the wall walk, he climbed to the rooftop where Orion was waiting.
“What happened?” Orion asked.
Cyrus shook his head. He couldn’t talk about it.
“Is it done? Did you kill the Shadow King?”
Cyrus pushed out a breath in anger. Anger at himself. He couldn’t speak. If he did, the shame would pool out of his throat and drown him. He could only shake his head again. No, he hadn’t killed the Shadow King. He hadn’t even seen him. He didn’t know what had come over him, but he knew one thing—
He’d ruined his chance at the Shadow King.
He’d ruined everything.