Chapter 19 #2
Aric settled into his chair with a dramatic sigh. No table between us, drinks in hand, seated by the fire as if we were old friends—it was a cozy scene, until you noticed the undercurrent of tension emanating from both men.
“How is your crop plague?” Aric asked.
“Under control,” Harthon answered.
“Until the next one.”
Harthon tilted his head. “That is the way of this world with the Domus.”
“In some Territories.”
Harthon swirled the liquid in his chalice. “And in others, crops are all there is to live on. All game is dead, and soldiers are left to grow strong on plants.”
“It may surprise you how strong men can be while consuming plants.”
“Perhaps,” Harthon said, like he wasn’t remotely convinced.
The two seemed so intent on beating their chests, I expected Aric to rise to that challenge, but he didn’t. Relaxing into his chair, he shared, “The game extinction was a result of my father. I’m handling the aftermath.”
“And how is that going?”
“As you can imagine.” He raised his goblet toward Harthon. “But I now have an ally who can offer assistance with this endeavor.”
That was no small request. Harthon might have small game in his Territory, but it was scarce, the Domus starving us more and more every day.
As it was, he’d already resorted to limiting hunting areas around his city center, rotating them to give animal populations a chance to recover.
We still didn’t know how successful the method was.
“I would need to see and agree to a thoroughly planned strategy before sharing a resource as valuable as that,” Harthon decided.
Some of the hostility choking the air eased, if only a little.
“It’s already prepared for your review. We can discuss it tonight. Right now, however, I would love to discuss the…situation with Koerlyn. I heard it was quite the encounter.”
“As of right now, there is no situation,” Harthon supplied.
“So he’s dead?”
“We don’t have confirmation, but half of his face was sliced away. I’ve never seen a man survive that type of wound.”
“Ah,” Aric said, lifting a finger. “But Koerlyn is no man. He’s a fucking serpent, and serpents have a remarkable ability to regenerate.”
The foreboding reminder was unnecessary. Unless Koerlyn was among the skeletons on the wall, we didn’t know that he was, in fact, dead. And if he did manage to survive such a gruesome injury, the wrath with which he’d return…
You have enough to worry about.
Aric ran a thumb across his jaw. “I have to ask—why are you here instead of capitalizing on his weakness?”
“I’m trying to secure relations with your neighbor.”
“And why would that take priority over such a sparkling, golden opportunity?”
There was no good answer to this.
No doubt anticipating the question, Harthon said, “Princeps Theo’s main ally is weakened. He may be seeking an alternative in First. I’m going to beat him to it.”
Aric laughed, his deep chuckle filling the massive room as Harthon remained impassive. When he sobered, it was to say, “Neither of you should be seeking anything in First. Except death, perhaps, and you don’t strike me as mad.”
“It’s an untapped opportunity.”
Aric scoffed. “Oh, it’s been tapped. And every time I’ve tapped it, it’s tried to bite my fucking head off.”
Harthon’s lips lifted. “Well, you and I are not the same person, are we?”
Aric chuckled again, shaking his head. “No, we are not. But we are both mortal.” His lips pursed, and shrewd eyes dragged to me. “A statement that may or may not apply to this stunning woman with the beautiful eyes.”
I raised my brows, unimpressed.
“Tell me, how is it that the magvis was taken captive by a group of mere men?”
For the first time, I was grateful to have met with Harthon’s cabinet. This was a story I’d already told, under the scrutiny of a Lord who wished me dead, no less. Still, I found myself wishing I’d accepted Aric’s offer for a drink. The prop would have given my nervous hands something to do.
Forcing my fingers to relax on the armrests, I said, “I allowed it to happen.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Aric snorted. “I do not mean this as an insult, but recklessness must run in Fourth Territory.”
That could have been the end of the conversation. Interrogation, over. But Harthon was anything but reckless, ruling his Territory with an unwavering dedication to strategy and method, and it bothered me that Aric might think otherwise.
So my mouth opened again. “It wasn’t recklessness. It was a rationalized decision, as with all decisions made regarding the Territory.”
“Ah,” Aric lifted his chin. “Please, allow me to appreciate your rationale.”
The recited words came easily. “My power is strong, but taxing. I knew I would easily be able to escape if Koerlyn imprisoned me. There was also a man with me, and I feared he would die if I defended myself. So I allowed them to take me, and, as expected, I left Koerlyn when I was ready.”
I didn’t know Aric well enough to read the thoughts in his eyes, but there seemed to be one presiding sentiment.
“How…simple.”
Too simple, he meant.
I shrugged. “That is one word you may use.”
His responding smile didn’t move his face. “Yes, one of them.”
“Is this how you communicate with all of your allies, or is this doubt reserved for us?” Harthon interjected, seizing control of the conversation.
“You, my friend, are my first ally,” Aric said. “And we both know you don’t give a horse’s ass about propriety.”
“I don’t,” Harthon said over the rim of his cup. “But your disbelief is both inefficient and annoying.”
“Not disbelief. Just…” He searched for the word, landing on a shit-filled, “curiosity.”
To my knowledge, Aric had never invaded other Territories, acting only within his lands, and his reputation was lackluster in terms of theatrics.
Yet the man before me oozed danger. It was in the macabre trophies scattered around the room, the brutal scar across his face, the rigidity of his guards, the way his eyes sought more than you were willing to reveal.
He owned it, too, his confidence borderline cocky.
Aric was not an idle man. He was too…much to ever be an Ellan. Rather, his potential existed either in forward progress or remarkable badness.
Harthon had his own opinions, I was sure. He wouldn’t have entered the alliance otherwise. But I wished to form my own.
“It’s only fair that such curiosity goes both ways,” I said.
Opening his arms wide, he invited, “For you, I am an open book.”
I doubted that.
“We are allies, yet your people seem to openly despise us. People tend to take direction from their leaders. What is it you’re feeding them?”
“Tend,” he emphasized, dropping his arms. “That is the pivotal word here. As much as I pride myself on my leadership, I will say that this sentiment has come entirely from the man beside you, not from me.”
“He has a fearsome reputation.”
“I’m not speaking of his reputation. I’m speaking of what he did.”
I glanced at Harthon, whose face revealed nothing. But the subtle stillness of his body spoke volumes.
“Before he was Princeps,” Aric started, though I feared I already knew where this was going, “when Harthon here was son to a father who enjoyed hunting and maiming even more than my own, he spent time in these lands.” Harthon remained a statue beside me, fingers clenched tightly around his goblet.
“His clan terrorized our people. The young ones don’t remember, but the old ones will never forget his mark here. ”
I knew of Harthon’s ugly childhood. This was only more evidence of it. “It wasn’t his mark. It was his father’s,” I defended.
“They see it as one in the same.”
“And what about you? Your father didn’t seem like the best of men.”
“I suffered similarly. It took me a long time to earn my people’s trust.” He flashed an arrogant grin. “But I now have it. You do not. And my people trust me enough to protect them from Harthon’s terrible wrath that they’ll spite him to his face.”
My mind shifted from Aric’s people to his second-in-command, who’d been all but ready to kill Harthon. “And Torr?”
“His parents were victims of Harthon’s father,” he revealed. “I have explicitly told him not to kill you, but his hatred runs deep.”
Recovering his typical apathy, Harthon deadpanned, “I’m terribly wounded.”
While the words dripped sarcasm, it was a facade. I knew of the guilt he carried for all he’d participated in as a child. He would never hold himself blameless.
Shifting the topic away from him, I asked, “Why bother to earn their trust? Ruling through fear seems to be an effective strategy.”
“You say it like fear and trust are mutually exclusive.”
Were they not?
“My people fear me. But they can trust in the consistency of where that fear lies,” he clarified.
“I spent a long time exterminating the looters, lawless bands, and criminals my father allowed here. I did so brutally, to make a point. And I’ve spent an equally long time improving the infrastructure in my Territory, rather than focusing my efforts outward.
The result is trust that I will provide for my people, and fear of acting against me. ”
“And what is your purpose?”
“I need some clarification on your question, love.”
“Your aim as Princeps. To do good? To gain power? To indulge?”
Aric revealed a fourth option. “To survive.” His chipped tooth showed through a wry grin.
“Our current predicament transcends men. It is us versus extinction, and that situation will grow more and more apparent as time moves forward and the Domus continues to kill our land. I would not like to be among the first to die.”
He was not a good or bad man, then, but a selfish one.
He waved a hand toward me. “And what is your aim, magvis?”
Well, this one would be no lie. “To help others to survive.”
“If only you could take down those shimmering walls that your kind put up,” he mused.
If only.
Harthon cleared his throat. “Her more immediate goal is to aid me with my aims in First. My man leaves today to scout our route. He’ll need provisions.”
“Consider it done,” Aric acquiesced. He drained the rest of his goblet before adding, “Though there is no point. He’ll die with or without them.”
* * *
After a meal that was surprisingly hearty without any meat, Aric led us to our rooms. They were located side by side, Stefano and Joris situated just down the hallway.
“A hot bath was drawn for you both,” Aric informed us.
Thank the Domus. I hadn’t fully bathed since we left the Citadel in Fourth. Honestly, I couldn’t believe Aric had flirted with me while I smelled and looked as I did.
Which was absolutely haggard.
I moved to open the door, but Harthon caught my arm and swept me behind him, entering first. Perhaps he expected Torr to be there with a sharp, ready weapon. Of course, he wasn’t.
Aric didn’t miss the gesture. “Your rooms are connected with an inner door, in case you feel the need to guard her.”
If I was the magvis, I wouldn’t need guarding, dammit.
“You can leave us now. I’ll rejoin you within the hour.” Harthon dismissed him, eyes methodically noting every detail of the large room, from the iron poker by the flames to the window across from us.
The moment the door closed behind us, I tore away from him. “He already suspects I’m not the magvis. That didn’t help.”
He finished examining the room before turning leisurely toward me. “Your safety is more important than his opinions.”
“If he was going to kill us, he would have done it already.”
“Perhaps. But we can’t be certain.”
I waved to the door. “I’m pretty sure he’s half in love with me, or at the very least wishes to see me naked. I think I’m safe for now. I would be more concerned with your own safety than mine.”
Every line of his body hardened. “Attraction is irrelevant to safety.”
“I don’t think that’s the case here.”
I didn’t know what my goal was. To get him to admit he was wrong? To release my pent-up frustration?
Whatever it was, I achieved something else, because he suddenly snapped.
He took a menacing step forward, the cords of his neck straining against his skin.
All the apathy he’d shown earlier was replaced by something wild.
“A man can flirt while imagining how best to kill you,” he articulated.
“Though given your inexperience, I wouldn’t expect you to know that. ”
It was that completely unnecessary addition that did it.
“You mean like how you flirt with me and touch me, all while planning to give me nothing but a cold shoulder?”
His eyes widened a fraction, but otherwise, he remained stock still.
That moment from the cabin, the distance he’d shoved between us, ballooned into something bigger. I began to shake, a mess of volatile emotions wrapping bands around my chest. It was even more consuming than when I’d seen his spiraled scar, and I knew why.
Because what could beat the pain of betrayal, but the death of hope? Ever since my conversation with Ana, ever since that stupid dance, I’d allowed myself to believe a new truth. That he cared for me, and that it was okay to fall over the precipice.
Domus knew I cared for him.
A rawness splintered through his mean expression, but it was sealed away so fast I might have imagined it.
“As I’ve told you before, several times, I am not a good man,” he sneered. “You heard what Aric said. I’ve caused a lot of people terrible pain.”
Even in all my damned hurt, I couldn’t stand to see him bear that weight. What did that say about me?
One more step, and he loomed over me, this man I’d come to crave, who had so many juxtapositions, yet managed to be better than he’d ever give himself credit for.
“I am not someone you give your heart to, Etarla.” His words were quiet, but he might as well have screamed them in my face. That was the force they struck me with. “It is my fault for not realizing you’re too na?ve to know this.”