Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rion
Rion watched Liam rise, the male steady on his feet despite the uncertain task assigned to him. A task that quite literally had their future riding on it.
Alec spoke to him first, working through who would accompany the male and who would stay behind.
Rion imagined a few of Liam’s most trusted would remain with Arianna while a few more would guard the youngling Alec had kept hidden from the world.
Not that Rion blamed him for keeping the youngling a secret.
Rion couldn’t fathom how Alec managed it. If he was ever blessed in such a manner, he wasn’t sure he’d even be functional. The sheer about of restraint it would take to even be away from the female carrying such a precious gift.
Rion’s gaze drifted toward Arianna. She stood, following her father and Sive out the main door.
Arianna only paused to glance at him once.
He wanted to follow; hell, Ellie might actually need him present given that he was the only one she’d responded to so far.
But he needed to address something else first. If Liam went underground and never came back—Rion clenched his jaw.
He wished he had confronted their issues sooner, but Liam had made his stance clear back then. But there were different truths now. Maybe this time would be different. He could hope for that much, right?
Rion stared at the door where Arianna had disappeared, his heart pounding all over again.
The desire to protect Arianna threatened to drown him.
It tore at every instinct in his body to remain seated.
But Arianna had her father, his personal guard, Raevina and her warriors, too.
She’d be okay for an hour. She’d been okay without him last night.
The knowledge sent a spear straight through his already bleeding heart.
Liam finished speaking with Alec, then disappeared out another door. Rion tried to make his exit seamless, but his heart was racing. Eimear met his gaze, a gentle smile on her face. Her single nod of encouragement was all he needed to follow Liam through that same door.
Memories swam through him as Rion walked down the familiar halls.
They’d been so young. The two had only spent a handful of years together before nearly a century had torn them apart.
But those few years had meant everything.
Liam was the first real bond Rion had ever formed.
Liam was the first friend that had defended him out of loyalty rather than family obligation.
Rion knew it didn’t make sense. He knew he should let go, but the hard reality was that Liam now stood in a high position within the palace.
If they survived this war, the pair would see one another constantly.
If he didn’t make amends now, he’d have to do it later. That’s what he told himself, anyway.
Dread swept through him as he recalled Liam’s final words.
Rion had spent years in Nàdair without ever running into the male.
For good reason, too. Upon Rion’s return after Caol’s death, he’d taken the time to do some research.
Liam’s father had died the same night as the High Lord.
He’d been one of the males Rion’s magic had torn to shreds.
A stone sank through Rion’s heart. Everything had made sense then. Liam’s hostility, his unwillingness to so much as communicate. An eight-year-old had learned his best friend had stolen his parent’s life. Then that friend had vanished and been labeled a monster by society.
He was also responsible for the death of Liam’s friends. There were probably others, too.
Of course, Rion had heard Liam’s name over the years. He was a young male who’d risen through the ranks quickly. Almost as quickly as Rion. But whether by request or fate, the two had never been assigned anywhere near one another. He imagined Liam made a point to avoid him.
Rion followed the male’s scent down another side hall.
Perhaps it would be easier to leave things as they were, but Rion had to know.
Even if Liam told him to burn—A blast of greenery swept over the floor and Rion’s magic yanked free from around his body, bursting through the thin wall in a split second.
He stepped back, sinking into a stance. Pieces of broken vines littered the ground.
Movement above snagged his attention as more crawled from a corner in the ceiling.
They shifted, then shot for him at speeds that had Rion cursing.
One piece nearly managed to wrap around his wrist before another burst of Rion’s magic rendered it nothing more than flecks of green dust floating through the air.
Rion backed away, magic circling his form as he scanned the shadows, searching for the one responsible. His entire body froze when his eyes locked onto a male in the corner.
Liam stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the far wall, weapons still at his hips rather than drawn. He wasn’t hiding, per se; either that or it was an extremely bad hiding place.
The two males just stood there, studying one another, their magic dancing in the space between them. Rion’s breath was shallow as he struggled to find words.
“I guess you’re as fast as rumors claim,” Liam stated, emotion absent from his tone.
Rion’s lips parted, but his throat had gone dry.
He straightened slowly, hand lowering from the weapon at his side.
The dancing sand lowered too, resting between the cracks in the marble.
“I figured you’d follow me eventually. Surprised it took you so long.
” Liam’s magic receded as well, sinking back into the crevices and holes.
It was no wonder Alec never bothered to fix them.
“I didn’t think you’d want to talk.”
“I didn’t,” Liam said flatly. The words hurt just as much as they had all those years ago.
“But circumstances have changed.” He pushed off from the wall and started down the hall.
Rion followed, unsure what the male intended.
He doubted after his mother’s warning that Liam would go against his High Lady, but Liam had more reason than most to want him dead.
Liam entered a side terrace, one of the many open to the elements outside.
All manner of greenery crawled along the walls and columns.
A table stood in the center with four double seated sofas circling it.
Liam dropped into one, then reached for the amber liquid in the glass pitcher resting on the table across from him. He flipped over two glasses.
“You drink?”
Rion stepped into the room, cautiously peering at the growth overhead. “On occasion.”
“Good, I doubt we can do this sober.” Liam filled both glasses and slid one across the table. He sat back and took a long sip, staring at the ceiling as if it contained all the answers to their questions.
Liam didn’t gesture for Rion to join him. He didn’t even look at him.
Rion’s jaw worked as he recalled those final words. Get out of here. And don’t ever come back. Grief. Anger. All rightfully deserved.
Liam was giving him a choice. Either they could talk, or they could continue in silence the way they had for nearly eighty years.
Rion drew in a slow breath, crossed the room, and seated himself across from Liam. He picked up the glass, turning it around as he sat back. He could drink it, he supposed. Liam had poured it from the same bottle.
Liam, it seemed, missed nothing. He gestured to Rion’s glass. “How long have you had to do that?”
“Since the day my father died.”
“You mean the day Lady Saoirse killed him.” A bitterness there. He wondered if Liam resented not being told the truth. In a world where it was almost impossible to lie, Rion supposed that was fair.
“I take responsibility for his death. It was me she was protecting.”
“And yet she wouldn’t have been forced to make that decision if it weren’t for our false history.” Liam said it more to himself than anything. He gave a slight scoff then downed the rest of his drink before shifting forward to pour another. “My father died that day too, did you know?”
Rion swallowed hard. “Not at the time, but I—I figured it out later.”
Liam drank again, then stared off. “Vairik,” he practically spit the name. “Without him—” Liam cut himself off and shook his head. Rion hadn’t considered how much the truth would affect those around them.
Everything they’d ever known. It was all a lie.
Silence filled the space again, an eerie quiet that threatened to swallow everything whole.
“How’s your mother?” Rion dared. She’d always been a kind female.
Liam was silent, likely debating whether to answer.
He certainly didn’t have to. Rion knew what it was like to treasure a mother.
Perhaps that one truth was what had Liam tilting his head to glance at the ceiling again before finally saying.
“She didn’t cope well after my father’s death.
It didn’t help that,” he paused, grinding his teeth.
“Knowing it was you made it worse. She treasured you, you know.”
“I know.” Rion remembered Liam’s mother’s kindness. She’d cared for him the day his own mother had disappeared.
“You saved my life,” Liam said, breaking the thick tension in the air. “It was difficult to accept at the time, but, given what my mother had already endured, I’m grateful for her sake.”
Rion swallowed hard. “You never told anyone what happened that day. Not even Saoirse.”
Liam’s jaw worked. “Because it didn’t make sense.
None of it did. I played it through my mind over and over.
I lived their deaths a thousand times.” Liam paused.
“They wanted me to blame you like the others did. Everyone tried to coax what they perceived as the truth out of me. I knew something wasn’t right, I just couldn’t place what it was.
” He lifted his glass. “Here’s to finally discovering the shitty truth. ”
Liam stared at his glass as if confused why it was empty then filled it again. “I didn’t poison yours,” he said, “If I wanted to kill you, I’d fight you in the open where honor actually meant something instead of hiding in the damn shadows.”
A bird chirped outside before it flew through the veranda.
Both males followed it with their eyes, watching as the tiny sparrow placed another twig in a nest neither had realized was there.
A pang of guilt flew through Rion’s chest as he watched, wondering if the small creature would live to bring life into this world or if everything would disappear before it was given the chance.
“I saw you visit the grave once,” Liam said.
Rion went utterly still. “I was so angry to see you there, but part of me knew you weren’t really the one to blame.
They never could explain everything. I was eventually told to just accept it and stop asking questions, especially as I began climbing rank.
” He laughed bitterly. “As if I could just let the death of a friend, of several friends, slip away as if they were nothing. Warriors from Brónach cut down their own kin, and I never found out why.”
“Pádraigín utilizes those from all nations. Separating us was a way to weaken us.” Rion paused. “They were after me. Vairik … he wanted to make me suffer, simply because of who I am.”
“The king.” Rion jolted at the title. He didn’t want it.
It meant nothing to him. “Everything could have been so different,” Liam said, his voice a near whisper.
“Without that monster, our entire lives—” Rion saw him swallow hard before taking another drink.
“The High Lady would have remained, our High Lord would have remained, my friends wouldn’t have met their fate and we—” Rion couldn’t help but glance up right as Liam met his gaze.
The sharp pain there had Rion’s breath hitching.
“Our lives would have been so different. We would have grown up together. Been inseparable.” Rion was frozen.
“And instead I bought into a lie just like all the others and made your life a living hell.”
Guilt. That’s what Liam was feeling, suffering through. Guilt that he’d brought pain upon his friend, guilt for the words spoken, guilt for the things he’d been willing to do that day.
Rion cleared his throat, still not turning away. “As you said, the fault lies with another.”
Liam looked away. He let the empty glass settle in his lap and Rion finally took a sip of his own. He welcomed the burn.
“So how does this end?” Liam asked. “How does one go about rebuilding after all,” he waved his hand around, “this.”
Hope blossomed through Rion’s chest. “According to my mother and sister, one day at a time.”
“And according to you?”
“I’ve done my fair share to earn the world’s hatred.”
“Not at the beginning. You were just a youngling.”
“We both were.” Silence. “There are many things I can never make amends for, but I’m willing to try anyway. Even if the entire world is able to justify my actions, the fact remains that it was my face they saw and feared, not Vairik’s.”
Liam hummed. “So no matter what, justice will never be served.”
“The cycle will end. That will have to be enough. If we all survive this, some may accept me, many won’t. It’s something I’ll simply have to live with.”
“If they choose to ignore the truth, they’ll be revolting against their king.”
Rion swirled the contents in his glass. “While I plan to stand at Arianna’s side if she allows, I have no intention of wearing a crown.
She will make the decisions. There will be those who wish to live apart from our kingdom because of me.
I only ask that they be allowed to do so.
They shouldn’t have to suffer any more than they already have. ”
Liam smirked. “You know, you’re not all that different from the eight-year-old boy who defended those who stole from him.”
Rion smiled at the memory. “It wasn’t like I was going to eat it anyway.”
“Principle,” Liam said. “They weren’t hungry, they only did it because of your title.”
“And you eventually paid them back, despite me asking you not to.” Rion smirked, remembering the younglings’ expressions when they’d emerged from the showers with blue hair.
“It’s what I want to do now. Even to myself.”
“Don’t,” Rion said. “Self-pity isn’t going to help us win the war.”
Liam finally set his glass on the table. “If we win, could things change between us, could we—” he let the words die. Liam interlaced his fingers, squeezing the joints.
“I’d say they’re already changing. Just don’t get yourself killed in the catacombs.”
Liam scoffed at that. “You’re not the only one with a reputation.”