Chapter 41
Azur
“C an I join you?” came the voice.
I barely heard the words but my eyes focused on Kaldur nonetheless. I was leaning against the terrace banister, watching the fishing boats dart in and out of the western port, which was hidden beyond the sharp curve of the cliff.
“What do you want?” I asked, no true venom in my voice. I looked over my shoulder, to the stretch of windows of Gemma’s rooms, where she’d retreated the night before. I’d slept without her for the first time since the kyriv attack, and it had left me restless.
It was nearly evening and despite my attempts to see her, she’d been sleeping every time I’d barreled past Ludayn. She hadn’t eaten anything, given the full trays of food still laid out on the table in the sitting room.
I was fucking worried about her. And I didn’t know what I could do to help her through this.
“Everything has changed in the span of moments,” she’d whispered to me last night, once the video feed had cut out. “I—I don’t know what to do, Azur. And I’m so—so incredibly sorry . For Aina. And I don’t know how to make it right. Why? ”
The vulnerable hitch in her voice had nearly torn my chest to shreds.
Kaldur took his place next to me. I caught Kythel strolling along the terrace wall, but my twin gave us privacy and space, continuing on his way down toward Mother’s gardens when he noticed us.
I didn’t know what had happened last night after the ballroom. I didn’t know what had happened when Kythel had gone after Kaldur after his outburst.
Truthfully, I didn’t care. What I cared about was that Gemma now knew the truth and she’d hardly been able to look at me since.
“Kalia told me your wife has fallen ill,” Kaldur said.
My shoulders stiffened. “My wife’s name is Gemma,” I said, my tone wooden, though I turned my glare to him in full force. “You would do well to remember it.”
“Gemma,” Kaldur amended quietly. “I didn’t come here to fight with you, despite what you might think.”
“Then why did you come?”
“What I did last night…I’m sorry for it, Azur,” Kaldur said, meeting and holding my eyes. Just as our mother had taught us. He reached out to clasp my shoulder, turning me so I faced him. “And when your—when Gemma feels better, I will make my apology to her as well.”
“But will you actually mean it?” I couldn’t help but wonder. “I don’t think you regret what you said. I think you regret when you said it. I don’t want you to give her false apologies. I’d rather you just leave. I’d rather that you return to Vyaan before she wakes.”
Kaldur’s jaw tightened. His hand fell away from my shoulder and he went quiet. He leaned his forearms along the banister, mulling over his thoughts as a tense silence stretched between us.
“She didn’t know, did she?” Kaldur asked, after I’d watched two fishing boats disappear around the cliff bend and counted the waves crashing into the walls below.
A dagger of unease slid between the bones of my chest.
“No,” I answered. “She didn’t.”
“You told her everything last night, didn’t you?” he asked. “Because of what I’d said? Is that why you’re standing under her window like a sentinel?”
A sharp breath made my shoulders slump. I didn’t have it in me to hold a grudge against my brother when it was me that had dragged out the truth for too long. Shortly into our marriage, I’d suspected that Gemma hadn’t known anything about her father’s actions. Yet I’d kept her in the dark purposefully.
Why?
Because I’d begun to fear the repercussions of the truth?
“It’s raw for me, Azur. It’s raw for all of us. Even though it’s been seventeen years , it’s this…this dark tragedy and mystery that’s hung over us nearly all our lives. We’ve only just learned the truth, and it’s stirred up memories that I would rather forget,” Kaldur said quietly. “It broke our mother’s heart. She died fearing she would never be reunited with Aina again, and I still feel her sorrow. I can still feel it, even now. And I took it out on Gemma last night because it gutted me to hear you call her Mother’s title, knowing what her blood did to ours .”
Kaldur’s grief and anger was justified. All of ours was.
“Would you have felt any differently,” I started quietly, “if one of the soldiers had lifted their plasma gun from their holster instead of Rye Hara?”
Kaldur stilled. “What?”
“There were others involved,” I said, the words twisting my gut, “but we’ve only set our sights on the male who did the actual killing. Not the ones who sliced her wings and pinned her down, holding her steady for that piercing shot. Because they killed her too. They might not have pulled the trigger, but they all killed her. And even knowing that…I wonder if we are pursuing the wrong enemies. I wonder if we should be hunting down someone else entirely.”
There was something that Gemma had whispered last night, after the video had cut out and tears had streaked her face, that had made for a restless sleep.
Why?
That word had hummed through my body late in the night, into the early hours of morning when I’d reached for my wife, only to find her absent beside me.
Why?
Why had a human unit of soldiers targeted a peace ambassador after the Voperian victory had already been claimed? It had been an intentional assassination. And I’d been too blinded by my hatred for Rye Hara to take a step back, to see what would’ve been gained from Aina’s death.
We should be seeking out the one who gave Rye Hara the order for her death.
“What do you mean?” Kaldur asked, narrowing his gaze on me.
“They were soldiers,” I told him. “And what do soldiers do in a war?”
Kaldur’s jaw tightened, but I saw a flicker of understanding.
“They carry out orders,” he answered gruffly. “I don’t care. They still made her suffer.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “They did.”
“They never turned themselves in to War Crimes,” Kaldur added. “What they did was immoral, hateful, and illegal . On every level. If they’d had any honor, they would have turned down the orders and reported their superior to the High Quadrant Council. But they didn’t. They acted like mercenaries, hunting down someone for profit, when the war was already over.”
“You’re right,” I told him. “I know you’re right.”
Kaldur was breathing hard, but I watched him take a concerted effort to calm down.
“But I just don’t see it in black and white anymore. I don’t see it carved in stone,” I informed my younger brother. “I can’t. I can’t hate Rye Hara with everything I have in me if I’m falling in love with his daughter.”
Kaldur’s wings snapped. He looked at me with surprise.
“And you can hate me for that if you want,” I added. “You can hate me for choosing her. You can hate me for bringing her here. You can hate me for breaking my vow. You have every right to.”
Kaldur ran a hand down his tired face. “I could never hate you, brother,” he said, shaking his head, his shoulders sinking, his eyes closing. “Don’t ask me to.”
“ Kyzaire ,” came Zaale’s urgent voice, yelled from the entrance doors.
My chest lurched, and I swung to face him. “What is it?” I asked. “Is Gemma awake?”
“Yes,” Zaale replied, his wings propelling him forward quickly. His eyes were troubled, however. “But Azur…she’s requesting passage on a ship to journey off planet. As soon as possible.”
“ What? ” I rasped, feeling like I’d just been rammed in the gut.
Zaale’s features were grim when he told me, “The Kylaira demands to return to the Collis.”