35. Astraea #3
“I’ll be around, Kyros. After my relief comes to replace me, maybe I will come see you for a chat.
” He says, tucking his hands in the front pockets of his trousers.
Trousers that are oddly out of place for Diemos and far more fitting to see in Eathian…
those same slouchy harem pants that those trekking through the desert wear.
Not the forest where they are likely to snag on every bush or twig.
His eyes brighten as they clash with mine.
Cold steel, like the sharp edge of a sword.
Chills skate down my spine, but I don’t have time to dwell on it, as Ruaan places his hand on the small of my back and guides me in the direction of the mouth of the tunnel.
The tunnel is cold in comparison to the day above ground. As soon as we are underground, my head feels a little clearer.
“Viltarin, I want you in the lead with Rowan. The guards here are familiar with you.” Viltarin nods at Kyros’s order, instantly passing Cole and me and taking the lead of the group as Kyros falls back.
“You,” he continues and points at one of the men in the back.
“Walk with my brother. His life is your life. Understand?” Kyros growls, and his gaze is stern as he passes me.
Our pinkies barely brush as he heads to the back of the line of people.
A shock of electricity passes through the connection, sending a jolt of adrenaline to my heart.
“Stay alert.” That’s all he says to Cole and me.
Our breaths cloud out in front of us in the stone passage, leading to what Shayd had once told me he called dreadful splendor, the castle of Diemos.
The chill remains here, even though the heat of summer is settling over the kingdom above us already.
So far, I’ve not witnessed any of the splendor of the castle, but the heavy sense of dread is stifling, even in this chamber of cold darkness with the heat of Kyros’ fury at my back.
The walls of the tunnel leak as though the earth they are carved from cries, and though none of us speak a word, our footsteps have no other option but to echo through the corridor.
Every ten or so steps there is a singular magick orb that illuminates the path.
I’ve never seen anything like it. Still watching the open use of magick as I pass it, my gaze comes to land on Kyros just behind me.
He is watching me closely, but the anger on his face is replaced.
I don’t know what he's thinking, but the way he tilts his head toward what is in front of me reminds me that now is not the time, and I tuck away my questions about how for later.
Four men with crossing pole arms stop our trek as Viltarin speaks to another.
The guards have stern and shadowed faces.
Each of them wears black leather and metal armor, but the design is much more simplistic and realistic than what my father makes his soldiers wear.
These men look as though they are actually trained to fight, rather than an adornment for a palace to seem protected.
“Open the doors; everyone at this entrance has my protection and are guests of Diemos.” Kyros’ voice booms, demanding without yelling as he steps around me with barely a flick of his eyes in my direction.
The men guarding the castle door shuffle on their feet.
All but one. He stands taller than the others, tucking his hands behind his back and straightening out his spine.
The man is not wearing the same armor as the others accompanying him.
As I look closer, I realize that he is not wearing any armor at all, though a heavy sword does hang at the side of his narrow hips.
“Kyros.” The man says, but it’s an oily tone that makes me narrow my eyes suspiciously on the stranger.
He quirks a thin brow, barely moving his head to look around at our group.
When his leering pauses on me where I am not so gracefully glowering at his clear judgment of us, Kyros steps into his line of sight, no doubt intentional.
“Nolan.” Kyros responds simply.
“You are a hard man to find.” The man, Nolan says.
I can’t see him past Kyros’ frame, but the way Kyros folds his arms over his chest makes me think this man is not one we call a friend, though I could sense that much from my first impression of him.
The way he holds himself reeks of the same stench Pravin expels.
“I wouldn’t be nearly as good as my reputation says I am if I were easily tracked, now would I?” Kyros lifts his chin and my lips part as I watch the shadows he usually keeps still on his skin roll from him like dark vapor breathing from his body. “You and your men will step aside—now.”
I brace myself for backlash. For a fight to erupt and blood to spill, but nothing of the sort happens.
The oily voice only agrees. The guards’ polearms uncross, and they stand facing forward to allow us to now pass.
I am too stunned to register that the others have begun walking.
Only when a hand presses to my back do I flinch out of my shock.
Ruaan shakes his head just slightly, and then I look down at his hand.
My gaze follows to where he looks ahead.
Dark beady eyes stare down at me. Nolan stands next to Kyros, nearly just as tall but much more slight.
His dark brown hair is slicked back away from his face and is cut close to the sides of his head.
He is older than any of the other men here, but not quite as old as my father would be, I’d guess.
“I want several guest rooms made up in my wing for my friends. Anything they need, I want you to see that they have it, and I want a banquet tonight for my return to Diemos.” I hear Kyros command as Ruaan continues to guide me toward the doors beside him.
“Of course. Consider it done. Should I send word to the queen as well?” Nolan asks.
“No, that won't be necessary. Shayd informed me he was already on that task.” Kyros answers, and though it may not be noticeable to others, I hear the contempt in his tone.
Ruaan ushers me through the door, but not before I hear Kyros say, “Oh, and one more thing…” There is a pause, and I hold my breath.
This is where the blood spills. Every muscle in my body is tense as I wait for it.
“Come on,” Ruaan whispers, trying to get me to move from the spot where I have frozen.
“I want to wait for him,” I whisper back, as my heart skips with the thought of walking away without Kyros. I can feel the guards' eyes on me. Ruaan’s lips flatten as his eyes jump across my face and then to the guards. He lets out a resigned puff of air through his nose and shakes his head.
“Fine, but make it look like that’s not what you are doing…
” My brows scrunch as I consider his words…
I don’t see why it would—“Astraea, I heard what Kyros told you. Sounds like he is playing a part here and working some angle. He isn’t the type who would be simpering foolishly over a woman here in Diemos…
Let’s not—” A squawking gasp comes from the corridor we just exited, and Ruaan’s warning stops short.
“You can't be serious!” Nolan cries out. Kyros walks through the door, and our eyes clash as he responds to the gaping man.
“I’ve never been more serious. It’s an order, Nolan. The banquet is to be held in the throne room.” Kyros says sternly, his eyes falling to where Ruaan’s hand is now holding my elbow.
“But, Kyros! The throne room? What about the Queen?” Nolan trails behind Kyros like a squawking bird, much more frazzled than he was when he was looking down on us judgingly. Kyros’ dark gaze sweeps up, locking with mine.
“My queen is exactly where she belongs.”