Chapter 9 #2
Augustus’s chest heaved, his shoulders as rigid as stone. The dagger twitched in his grip, and a decision flashed in his eyes, though it was brief. Kill him anyway.
Then, Selene took his hand.
Augustus loosed the pent-up air from his chest like steam from a broken kettle, and a moment later, he sheathed the knife.
Selene led him back indoors, where he took up a position by a table with his arms folded.
Dimitrios studied Lazaros with mixed feelings—letting the man live was a gamble.
On one hand, Lazaros just saved his life, and five months ago, he’d risked his life with a lie that kept Orestis and Alexandra from turning their attention to Dimitrios while he revealed himself to the council.
He’d fought on Augustus’s side in the mountain.
Then again, Lazaros had been a spy. He’d acted as Augustus’s quartermaster, reporting their whereabouts to Orestis Vidalatos for several weeks. He’d killed people they all cared about.
He couldn’t argue that the man deserved to die for the murders he committed.
But Dimitrios had to be more than a man who dealt in vengeance. He had to be a king who knew when to wield a blade—and when to put it down.
So, for now, at least, he would watch the man very carefully.
“How long have you been stalking around playing this”—Augustus threw a hand toward the soldier’s uniform Lazaros wore—“part?”
“It isn’t a part,” Nikolas said. “Bareas reported to his commander a few months ago. He might have been away on orders, but he was never discharged. Regardless of the circumstances, he had a duty to report back in upon his return.”
Now that Dimitrios thought about it, he’d seen Lazaros stationed almost everywhere. There were always one or two familiar faces of the Palace Guard nearby, and he hadn’t thought anything of it.
Lazaros straightened his leather chest plate. “I volunteered to protect the heir.”
Selene looked as if she hadn’t blinked in several minutes and stood half in front of Augustus like a shield. “Why? After everything you did to help Orestis, you’re suddenly loyal to the heir he wanted dead? And how have we never seen you before now?”
“I’ve mostly been on duty overnight, but when I wasn’t, I—” Lazaros lowered his gaze. “I hid.”
“Like a fucking coward,” Augustus snarled.
Blaze reclined deep in the center of a settee, his arms spread across the back, wearing the only grin in the room. “This might be the best job I’ve ever accepted.”
“Shut up, Blaze,” Augustus and Selene said as one, both shooting him a near-identical glare.
Blaze’s grin only widened. “You two…,” he crooned with a wink.
Dimitrios sighed. “Enough. Lazaros saved my life. No one is killing him.” He noted the subtle lengthening of Oskar’s spine but ignored the assassin. “For good or ill, he’s acted all along out of loyalty to Perean. It isn’t his fault that Orestis led him around with his lies.”
Lazaros bowed his head. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
That was another problem and much more concerning than Lazaros’s past actions.
“There’s something else much more pressing to discuss.
Before he was stabbed, the inquisitor revealed that he intended to declare his findings to the council.
He believed me to be the rightful king and raised concerns regarding Leonidas Primakos and Titos Demakis.
He believed they might have been in league with each other. ”
Every folded set of arms in the room dropped.
Nikolas was the first to speak. “And you’re just telling us this now? We need to tell—”
He stopped, probably realizing what Dimitrios already had. Who would they tell? Who wouldn’t argue that Dimitrios lacked proof and witnesses to this claim? The one man with the key to his future, who could validate all of this, could die any minute now.
Milonia took several steps further into the room, and Dimitrios was sick to know he was keenly aware of each and every one of them.
“Forgive me, but might I suggest…?” She paused to await Dimitrios’s nod to continue.
“The palace has some of the best healers in Perean, but if we’re to keep the inquisitor alive, we need trustworthy people at his side.
The assassins had been working inside the palace for some time, and if any of the healers—”
Oskar cleared his throat and stepped forward. “There’s a woman named Athena here. A healer who’s been around for a very long time.” His gaze lowered to the floor. “She’s one of my informants. She can be trusted.”
“Gods,” Nikolas hissed under his breath. “It’s as if we’re overrun with rats, and all the cats are dead.”
Dimitrios scrubbed his face until his skin tingled with the blood return. “My mother got the hardcore loyalists to Orestis out, but these assassinations only prove she wasn’t as successful as we thought.”
Despite all he’d been through with the people in this room, who could he trust? Selene and Augustus, surely, though the captain would snatch Selene and flee before putting either of them in the middle of this. The pirate was likely already devising a quick escape.
Lazaros? Dimitrios would be a fool to trust a man whose loyalty shifted so readily.
Nikolas… He didn’t know him—not really. Milonia, either.
Oskar had informants right under his nose and hadn’t said a fucking word. He trusted the Blade wouldn’t kill him, but he didn’t love that his every move was likely reported.
The Ranger, Blaze, smirked as he studied everyone’s dour expressions.
“Why are you here?” Dimitrios asked.
“Oh!” He sat forward. “We took care of your oxbeast infestation, but we’re still owed half what we were promised.”
Dimitrios closed his eyes and summoned images of the Gabrea lands: the warm sun on the back of his neck, the laughter of a dozen children carried on the wind from the main house, and Sophia striding toward him with a basket hooked to her arm, her smile and eyes warm.
An easy life surrounded by his family and love and unwavering trust.
“I can take care of that,” Milonia said.
Her lyrical tones loomed over his warm memories like a shadow he needed to investigate. She motioned for the Ranger to stand and follow her from the room, which, thankfully, he did without hesitation.
At the exit, she turned and bowed her head. “Your Majesty.”
Milonia’s head rose, her gaze locking with his.
Turn, turn, turn, he wanted to say. Leave. Look away.
Spare me this.
But she didn’t. And neither did he.
The warmth of a sun slid into place inside his chest, consuming and unwanted. The old wound there, stitched too quickly, too haphazardly, pulled at the seam.
He broke the stare, and the snap felt like breaking the surface of water and gasping for air. “Thank you,” he muttered.
Then she was gone, and he was overwhelmed suddenly by the number of bodies in the room, which included three Blade assassins—four if he were to count Selene—a pirate, a traitor, and a commander. Veritable strangers, and none of them family.
Pandora’s advice whispered through the cacophony. “You need allies, and who better than your own blood?”
He had family in Perean, whether they cared to admit it or not, and Pandora believed her siblings would offer the support he needed. Her father would be the outlier and apparently kept a tight command of the family, but maybe his mother was right. Maybe it was time for him and the Nicoleas to meet.
Dimitrios turned to Nikolas. “I need to travel to Braryn. Can you make the arrangements?”
“Now?” He blinked rapidly, mouth in a half-smirk. “With everything going on?”
Dimitrios exhaled sharply. “Whatever power I have is evaporating beneath my feet. If I wait any longer, I won’t be securing my throne—I’ll be fighting to take it back.”
Nikolas’s only response was to nod. He knew almost better than anyone how fragile Dimitrios’s stance was now.
Oskar took half a step forward and motioned at the two Blades with him. “My men will travel with you.”
“Good idea,” Selene said. “Just in case any of the palace guards have been bought and maneuver their way onto your detail.”
Nikolas scoffed. “I think I can judge my own men for myself.”
“Tell that to Mihail Vidalatos,” she shot back.
Dimitrios flinched. His birth father had traitors in his protective detail who worked for Orestis Vidalatos, and they faked Mihail’s assassination and killed many good men.
“We shouldn’t put blind faith in anyone,” Lazaros said. “Not where the king’s life is concerned.”
Augustus lifted a single brow and folded his arms. “Not where you’re concerned.”
Selene needled Augustus with an elbow but asked Dimitrios, “What’s your plan?”
“I’m going to have a word with my grandfather.”