Chapter 15 #2
He tilted his head back and took a long pull this time, letting the numbness sink in. He was just getting ready to fall asleep, to bask in the warmth of the space, to remind himself that he was no longer the scared little boy he once was, before learning he was Veilborne...
When suddenly, he heard a loud clatter. A bucket being overturned, likely one of the foolish younglings. He sat up, annoyed at the interruption in his nap, when he heard Zey’s voice. Someone had ruined her Demonstration, and now?
They would most certainly pay. Kinlear hummed to himself, waiting for the chaos to unfold beyond his little hideaway. He coughed again, so he uncorked his vial, not wanting to deal with it, and took a quick sip.
The footsteps came closer. He spilled a bit of tonic on his lips as a figure appeared, slinking into his alcove, back turned to him as Zey rushed past.
And suddenly, he wondered just how much he’d drank.
Because...it was her.
His Rider.
Say something! His mind screamed. Now is your chance! So, he chuckled, and said, “A dangerous thing, to mess up Zey’s Demonstration. And before the Masters, no less.”
She spun around as he corked his vial, doing his best to remain calm...the picture of the Handsome Twin.
But her face went ashen as her eyes slid to the Veilblade he always kept sheathed on his hip.
“Y-your Highness,” she sputtered.
It was not missed on him...how terrified she looked, now that it was the two of them together.
Completely, beautifully alone.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Kinlear said.
Because this was his space, a place where he came to sulk.
She couldn’t see him here like this, drunk on winterwine and lazing about like a damned cat.
He hated cats, especially after dealing with the raphon.
“This is my hideaway when I need a bit of peace and quiet.”
Gods, why did you say that? he thought. She’ll leave!
He didn’t want her to go.
Not until he learned her name, at least. Not until he made the conversation from earlier right.
Be the mysterious prince! he told himself. Again, the voice sounded like Magus. Charm her, you fool, like the princes in your fantasy books!
“I...I got lost,” she stammered.
A lie.
He could see it written all over her face.
Refreshing, Kinlear thought, that she wasn’t afraid to defy the Five. Sometimes he swore he was the only Sacred that ever did.
Dance, Kinlear Laroux. Dance in the darkness with me.
He shook the ghost of Soraya’s voice away. She was gone. And she was never coming back.
Kinlear bristled and lifted a dark brow. “A difficult thing, to miss the enormous staircase in the center of the Aviary. One could say nearly impossible for anyone with a decent pair of eyes in their head.”
He adjusted his grip on his cane and stepped forward.
The Ravenminder took a step away...until she heard Zey’s voice again.
She looked utterly trapped, as if she were a deer noticed by a hunter. Her eyes wide, her lips parted as if she might scream for help.
And that gave him pause.
Surely...he hadn’t given her that much to be afraid of? He’d been an ass, yes, for that was just a true talent of his.
But to fear him?
Something dark churned in his gut.
Arawn must have said something to force the reaction in her. It was the only explanation that came to mind.
“I’ve spent my life learning how to read the body language of war eagles,” Kinlear said softly, trying to fix the awkwardness between them.
“Communication comes in more ways than just words.” He winked.
..and then immediately wondered why he was such a godsdamned idiot.
He swallowed and forced himself back on track.
“They’re quite similar to humans, actually.
And I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out, Ravenminder. ..you’re afraid.”
She looked like she was going to throw up.
Was he truly that repulsive?
Her eyes widened even more as he reached for his flask. He might as well drink some more, for winterwine was surely the only way to solve this abhorrent moment.
“You needn’t fear me,” Kinlear said, as he watched her with a narrow gaze.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I only came to see the war eagles; I didn’t mean to—”
And there it was.
His way in.
“I’m glad you did,” he said suddenly. He lifted his flask and took a long pull. Let her see his secrets. At least it was better than him opening his mouth and saying something stupid all over again. “If you wanted to see the war eagles, Ravenminder... you needed only ask.”
Her eyes widened. “I asked Arawn.”
Kinlear chuckled, even as the mention of his brother’s name, on her lips, irked him.
“Ask the right person, is what I should have said. You chose wrong, if you wanted someone who’s willing to bend a few rules now and then.
There are ways around them if you’re clever enough, but my brother is perhaps the most pious Sacred I’ve ever met. Even more than our father, and that’s—”
No.
The damned cough came up just as she was softening to him, listening to him, the expression on her face no longer quite so afraid.
It was terrible, wet and rasping, and for a moment, he wondered if it was going to stop. Or if this would be yet another episode again. He didn’t want her to know what he was.
A dying man.
A weak thing on the inside.
He didn’t want her to look at him...the way Soraya eventually did. Like he was only a name stamped on a grave.
“Are you... all right?” she asked him.
I’m fine! he wanted to say. I’m not dying at all, not one bit!
Instead, he gave his best lazy grin. “I’m the prince of Lordach. I’m always all right,” Kinlear said, as he settled his breathing. “The dust inside these stalls. It gets to me.”
He could see her relaxing, could picture the way the conversation would go, how he would be able to turn things around...when he suddenly heard Arawn’s voice.
His blood went cold.
Not here. Not in front of her.
It had been painful enough to speak to his brother in the woods.
Coward, his mind hissed.
Not a coward, Kinlear corrected it. I’m just...not ready to see him again. Not so soon.
Because they hadn’t spoken, not truly, since after Soraya’s death. After Kinlear had awoken from his runed sleep, flustered, because Soraya wasn’t there. He’d sent a servant after her, wondering why he felt so much heaviness in his chest.
She’s gone; the servant brought the news back to him. She took a war eagle and left.
He’d stumbled to Arawn’s room in a panic.
Save her, he’d begged him. You must save her!
Arawn went after her. Into the night sky, he soared...and Kinlear knew. He pieced it all together in that awful, heart shattering moment.
That winged shadow in his visions, a part in his dreams he’d missed the point of, had finally come true.
The brothers didn’t speak, after that.
And they wouldn’t again, certainly not now, as Kinlear turned back to Ezer, his memories fading...Arawn’s pounding footsteps in their place.
“I’ll be seeing you, Ravenminder,” he said, holding her gaze. “I do hope you enjoyed your little private tour of the Eagle’s Nest. In the future...be careful where you step. And where you hide, for you never know who might be watching.”
He winked at her again, but this time it felt right.
A warning, perhaps...that Arawn would not save her, should she fall.