80. Kye #2
Sindri peered from inside the third coach, setting a sack of grain along the floorboards.
I hadn’t loved the idea of naming him my second Oculos—the Naiad that had forced my wife from her home.
But sending him to Rivea as Kazimir’s aid made sense.
The asshole was fluent in Rivean after living there for twenty years, familiar with their armies and strategies.
Not to mention, he could pass any thought to me, regardless of time or distance, detailing Kazimir’s comings or goings.
But mostly I didn’t want that fucker anywhere near Maren. Even if he had helped fight for us.
Xiane spotted Sindri, offering him a single nod. He’d been the one to alert her that war had begun on Neris Island when he’d sent Venusian families east, one last bid for her help.
And she’d answered.
“There she is,” Pheolix said, gaze hovering behind us.
Not far from us, Maren and Diara trickled through the streets, chatting just loud enough to hear the overlap of their voices. Womanly subjects, I was sure. Like murdering men with arrows and stopping hearts with blood and exploding a poor bastard’s testes, judging by the glimmer in their eyes.
Deeper along the road, Hadrian dodged between riders and their horses, his clothes changed from the royal velvet he’d worn only an hour ago to commoner attire.
We waited for them, pretending not to notice how Hadrian slipped beside Diara when he finally closed in, winding Emilius’s black diamond over a finger as if unsure of the new source of weight on his hand.
My eyes lighted to it, the thick feeling of sludge in my lungs.
I trusted Hadrian to never use the ring the way its former master had, but I had to fight the impulse to steal it and hurl it into the city canals regardless.
“Hi,” Hadrian said to the young woman from Pirounesse. Rose tinted his cheeks, and he determinedly refused to meet my eye. Maren did instead, cloaking a smile within the shadow of her mouth.
“Hi,” Diara returned smoothly. “Do anything important this morning?”
His gaze lingered over hers. “Not really.”
I cleared my throat. “How’d you sneak away from the guards, Hade?”
“Tore a page from your book. Said I needed to relieve myself, then threw that gold cloak over a man leaving the privy. Said he could keep it if he ran out as fast as he could.”
Aren scoffed. “Might need to check the dungeon for a poor unfortunate soul tomorrow.”
Soft laughter echoed from our circle, though Xiane stared at Aren with pure puzzlement, as though he’d just joked that fish could sing. Knowing how often Videres moved throughout the world without any kind of guard, I imagined it was odd for her to watch a King escape his own servants.
Pheolix cupped his hands over his eyes, shading himself from the intense sun as he listened to the carts bumping and roaming the cobbled roads. Waiting for someone to wander up the road.
The rest of us stirred over our feet, words growing scarce on our tongues.
Maren drifted from my side. Conversation roused quietly again, the conditions of highway roads in late spring, comments regarding the weather and the chance of heavy rain.
I let my gaze trail her steps as she studied the royal hearse, fingertips sliding along the embossed panels and over the polished wheel.
Her steps slowed near the front of the carriage, and she gazed at it for a long moment before reaching to fix a purple bloom that had sagged too far from the other wisteria along the top railing.
She’d invited Cebrinne to come today, but her mother had softly declined, claiming she’d said goodbye to her sister too many times before withdrawing from the room.
A small wave of wind lifted the hair from the back of my neck, cool and clean. A drop fell through the sunshine, splashing over my nose. Diara broke from our circle, straying behind Maren, then hooking their arms together. Without glancing at her, my wife leaned her head against Diara’s shoulder.
Aren squinted up at the showers, then joined Maren and Diara under the thin shelter of the coach.
Xiane and Pheolix followed, the drone eyeing the glossy box inside with a distant kind of slowness, like he’d just unearthed an artifact he’d buried long ago.
Sindri and Kazimir climbed from the coaches, dusting their hands and checking final ties before sidling along the hearse as well.
I glanced at my brother, his line of sight descending on a head of long, goldenrod spirals. Something tugged under my ribs. I kept my voice low, gentle. “You know, Hade—”
He scoffed, shaking his head without looking at me. “No one wants a man who is sick, Kye,” he said softly, leaving my side.
I suppose that settled it.
Emilius had once threatened my brother and me over choosing the wrong partner, declaring we could only take a bride who benefited the crown. I’d thought maybe that was why Hadrian had always held back, even in moments where it seemed he hadn’t.
After the King’s unfortunate accident from my balcony two months ago, I’d thought Hadrian might find himself free of such views, permitted to court whomever he chose. I’m not sure that I was more saddened or relieved that Emilius’s words hadn’t been what had hindered Hadrian after all.
I bit back any argument, though there were a few already rising from the corners of my thoughts, and roamed to the carriage to join them.
Jokes and laughter had receded to the backwaters of conversation. It was time for Pheolix and Kazimir to leave, and all too suddenly, the weight of goodbye dropped over us like a cool nightfall.
Maren reached through the open windows of the hearse, laying her palm against the ivory box inside. “I love you,” she whispered, the words crackling like breaking ice.
Diara blinked bright water from her eyes. “Goodbye.”
Pheolix said nothing, the friendly sparkle in his gray clouds now dim. He stared blindly at the box with a heavy stillness, like his body had forgotten it was living, fading to stone under the shining rain.
“You’ll look after him?” Hadrian asked Kazimir under his breath.
The Rivean had been kind and patient with Pheolix, sitting with him when he remembered, indulging him when he didn’t, joining him for walks around the palace grounds when the drone found his feet needing to move.
I hadn’t harbored any doubt he’d look after Pheolix, but I let Kazimir see me turn my head, wanting to hear his answer as well.
The Rivean glanced at us both, a rare tenderness in his gaze. “He’s safe with me,” Kazimir said.
We backed away as he stepped toward the driver’s seat of the head coach.