Chapter Nine
Ronan
Taran manages, with some convincing, to get me to eat something and to get some rest before getting back on Kira.
Not that I’m able to get much uninterrupted sleep—there are decisions to be made, reports to receive, and a dozen courtiers to address (and this time, I really do have to listen to them), but I manage to nap long enough to get most of my magic back by nightfall.
We’re on our way to the stables when we’re stopped yet again by a servant with an urgent message.
This is the third such message today, and I’m just about to give my messengers a lesson on how if everything is urgent, nothing is, when I read what it says: Guardian Adama has just landed in the palace docks.
“In the palace? How did he get in?”
“A stealth ship, sir, one with a shadow-born at the helm,” says the messenger.
“A shadow-born?” My heart races momentarily before I realize I can still feel that Sylvie is miles away. “Why weren’t they spotted?”
“They waited until darkness to cross the gap. There was a shadow-born on watch duty, but they missed it.”
“Direct Admiral Nauta to station at least four there at all times. Two watching each direction.”
“Yes, sir,” says the messenger.
Taran looks at me and then the stables beyond. “Maybe we should hear him out first, in case he knows more about where they’re keeping her.”
He’s saying this at least partially in hopes that we won’t have to fly tonight, but he is right. We head back into the palace and meet Guardian Adama in the halls on the way to the throne room, although I barely recognize him with his head shaved.
I also note as he bows to me and greets me that he’s wearing Selaran armor over his clothes. It’s not a perfect disguise, but I can see why it worked on my guards.
“Guardian Larus Adama. I can’t say that I was expecting to see you again, but I’m hoping if you’re here, it’s to bring me news of Sylvie.”
Larus regards me ruefully. “I came to beg your forgiveness, your majesty, for the part I played, and to help you get her back in any way that I can.”
I stop in my tracks. “You were there when she was taken?”
“I’m afraid I took her myself, sir. I had no choice. It was either I went, or Adria would have gone herself.”
I try to keep my breathing under control.
Larus is lucky that Sylvie cares for him because it’s the only thing that keeps me from striking him in this moment.
“Because of Sylvie’s love for you and the sincerity in your feelings, I’m going to give you a chance to explain yourself.
” His eyes flash white with fear, and for once, I don’t feel bad for intimidating him.
He took her from me. He took her, and she could have been killed.
She could still be killed. My heart pounds in my ears, but I maintain control. For Sylvie’s sake, I let him speak.
I listen, my fingers clenching and unclenching, itching for my sword as Larus explains how his plans to sabotage the siege efforts were foiled by Adria and the few options he had for keeping Sylvie safe, how he thought he was doing what she would have wanted, not realizing the true depth of her feelings for me, and how his plans to bring her back to me were also foiled, but this time, by Seth.
Fucking Seth. Taran was right—it was one of Seth’s boats that took her. He’s even more of an asshole than Adria, and he’s far less reasonable. Our only real chance is to take her by force.
“She told me to tell you not to come for her.”
“Because she’s where she wants to be?” I try to keep my voice detached, but it betrays me.
Larus hesitates and then sighs, shaking his head.
“No, of course not. She just doesn’t want you to be caught in her brother’s trap.
I’m sure you remember what he’s like. She told me to tell you whatever I had to in order to stop you from coming for her, whatever it took to keep you safe.
But I’ve let her down enough. I won’t sabotage her best plan of rescue because she insists on being self-sacrificing.
If you’re even half the man she thinks you are, I know you won’t fail her. ”
“I promise you, I’ll get her back,” I tell him. I can feel how much she means to him, and I understand his feelings completely. “I may not be worthy of her, but I’ll do anything to protect her. You have my word on that.”
Larus nods as I guide him into the antechamber. Cyrus and Typhon wait for us inside, but just before we enter, he grabs my arm and whispers to me, “She loves you, you know.”
Fuck, it feels nice to hear that. I feel lighter than I have in days. Of course I know she loves me. I never doubted her, not truly, but gods, it’s a relief to know that about at least this one thing, the one thing and person that matters to me most in the world, I’m right.
“Larus!” says Typhon. “Thank Vayla you’re alright. I feared the worst.”
I give them a moment to catch up, trying to detect some of the hidden feeling Quinn suspected between them but finding nothing but genuine friendship.
Which makes me feel guilty for prying.
“Taran and I are about to head to their camp to scout it out, to see if we can find out where they’re keeping her,” I tell Larus when they’ve finished talking. “Do you have any ideas? Anything we should look out for?”
“They took her inland near the Wastes. We couldn’t follow, but they’ll have all of the usual weaponry. Seth tends to keep himself as far from harm as possible, so I suspect you’ll find him at the back. I’m not sure where he’d keep her. Likely somewhere better than the dog kennel Adria had her in.”
“The dog kennel?” Is this a figure of speech?
No. Larus means it literally, I realize from his reaction.
Light flares from my fingertips.
There’s a part of myself I thought I’d lost long ago, a ruthless, violent part of me that took pleasure in imagining Lysander of House Verran, Sylvie’s father, the man who killed my own father, dying.
The part of me that I thought vanished when I faced that same man in our duel, a part that left me in the crucial moment when I realized that taking his life would not give me what I wanted.
I did not miss it. In fact, I hoped to never have to confront that man again, the version of me that allowed my basest instincts to take over.
The cruel, callous piece of myself that wanted nothing more than to watch my enemy suffer.
That wanted to extend that suffering for as long as possible. To revel in his misery.
And yet, as Larus Adama tells me that the Lady of House Verran chained the love of my life in a dog kennel, for the first time in over five years, that part of me awakens.
And I welcome his arrival.
“She put Sylvie in a kennel.” I don’t ask it as a question. I understood his meaning. I say it for the clarity of it, to let myself feel the true weight of those words. To let my rage have something to hold on to. “Did Adria hurt her?”
“No, she didn’t have the chance. Sylvie wasn’t there long.” He rubs his neck where some bruises are forming. Injuries sustained in their escape, I’m guessing.
I ask for permission and then touch the bruises lightly, healing them.
“Thank you,” says Larus, looking at me in wonder. Understanding for the first time what she sees in me. The look he gives me fills me with pride.
Then he laughs. “Although you should know that Sylvie herself gave me those bruises. She nearly got me. She didn’t believe I was there to help her at first, but I got her out in the end.”
And fuck, that violent, vindictive part of me swells with pride in her, too. She is a survivor.
“I felt her attack you, I think. I felt her attack someone.”
“You can feel her? She didn’t think you could from so far away.”
“I can’t usually. But she’s different.”
Adama smiles at me then, the first genuine smile I’ve ever seen from him.
It lights up his eyes, which are brighter and more youthful than I’d noticed before.
“She is different. She believes I’ve misjudged you and the company you keep.
” He glances at Taran. I’ve felt his disdain for Taran as he spoke, but I didn’t think much of it.
Most Nithyrians feel the same about the Orsa, Sylvie included.
“And I reckon that she’s right. She’s right about most things, and she’s far smarter than I’ll ever be.
I should have trusted her from the beginning.
I wish I had; we might have avoided all of this. ”
“What’s done is done,” I say, although I wish he had trusted her too. “But you may find a way to repay me yet, if what you said about your mother’s ships is true. Would you mind meeting with Admiral Nauta? He’s in charge of naval defenses.”
I leave it to Cyrus to make the introductions as Taran and I make our way back to the stables. It’s fully dark out now, and while I feel bad for making Kira stay out late again, I know it will be worth it when we have Sylvie back.
Kira, Kerensa bless her, is literally champing at the bit to get back into the air. “Is there a way we could let her out during the day?” I ask Marta. “I believe she’d come back.”
“I believe so too, but I’d worry for her with all the fighting going on. Especially since most of the court knows you have her.”
She has a point. Even many of the people who are on my side hold a grudge against me for taming their hunting quarry.
“It’s a long flight tonight, girl,” I tell her. “Do you think you’re up for it?” If we fly directly, we can make it to the Machair Wastes in about two hours, judging from our experience last night. And then we still have to return home.
She makes a little excited chirp and stomps her lion feet, her tail waggling behind her like a dog.
Taran is leaning against the wall of the stall, steeling himself for the journey. But there’s no need. If I’m able to get Sylvie out somehow tonight, there won’t be room to carry us all back, so I’ll need to go alone.