33. Chapter Thirty-Three Xander #3
“Why should we trust your judgement alone?” he asks, leaning away from the wall, one hand resting on the hilt of the sword strapped to his hip. The same one that hangs from my own.
“I beg your pardon?” Though my hands rest easily at my sides, my fingers twitch in anticipation as Alden stalks closer.
“Speak plainly,” Grayson commands from behind me.
“Okay, I shall. How do we know that Xander speaks the truth? That he hasn’t been compromised in some way?”
Whispers sound around me as I draw my brows together in confusion.
“How do we know,” he drawls as he walks through the gathered members, stopping when he is only a few feet in front of me, “that he hasn’t been seduced by the enemy?”
“The shifter is not the enemy,” I counter.
“But neither is she a friend.” Uncertainty cloaks the air as I glare at Alden. “Though I wonder if you know that, Xander.”
There is no reason that he should suspect anything occurred between Siyala and I. Everything we have done has been in the hidden safety of the cell or the secret room.
“That’s enough, Alden,” Grayson barks, moving to stand at my side.
“I think we can all agree that Xander’s priorities have always been in doing what is best for the resistance.
If you have a problem with his methods, then take it up with him in an honorable way.
This speculation and accusation without proof is beneath you. ”
Alden takes a deep breath, jaw tight as he gives me a quick bow of his head. “My apologies, Xander. I would never mean to question your integrity.”
Grayson quickly dismisses the meeting, and Alden quietly retreats, joining the others as they exit through the tunnels in waves. Brisk stays back, the young guard’s eyes brimming with an unasked question.
“What is it, Brisk?”
“The Trusted position, I want to throw my name in—”
“No,” I cut in, Grayson nodding in agreement at my side.
“Why not? I’m just as dedicated to the cause as you are. I can help.” His pleas tug at something in my chest, something that takes in how the cut of his blond hair and the gleam of his blue eyes make him seem younger than his real age.
I place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tightly. “You are an honorable man, Brisk. I say ‘no’ not because I don’t think you could do a fine job but because you are too valuable to risk. Not to mention, we are already two trials in.”
“But—”
“The king is taking far more amusement in torturing me and anyone associated with me than usual right now. I will not, cannot, put you in harm’s way when there is a very real chance he will demand your life in recompense for some perceived slight from me.
With the princess gone…” The feel of Immie’s body falling away from her head.
The splash of blood on my boots. Siyala’s screams. I shut my eyes, fingers flexing around his shoulders.
“Just, please, Brisk. I can’t lose another good man. ”
When my eyes open again, they meet his disappointed ones. But Brisk manages a quick nod of understanding before he too leaves, and it’s just Grayson and me remaining.
“He’s a good kid,” Grayson says, handing me a short glass half filled with a clear liquid.
“He is. What is this?” I bring it up to my nose and sniff, jerking back at the way it burns my nostrils. “Shit.”
“You need it,” he says, holding his own up in salute. Our glasses clink, and I swallow the alcohol in a single gulp, fighting back a cough at the burn as it travels down my throat. Setting the glass down, I let myself relax in front of Grayson, running a hand over my face.
“What the fuck was that from Alden?”
“I don’t know. Nothing about him or his routine seems out of the ordinary. He works his post and then returns to the barracks.”
“You’ve been following him?” I ask, brow arched.
Grayson shrugs, taking a seat at the table. “After what happened in the pit, I wanted to make sure he wasn’t working with King Dolian.” The look I send makes him chuckle. “I know. It wouldn’t make sense, but far stranger things have happened.”
I can’t argue with that. My palms press to the table top. “What would possess him to call into question my loyalty to the cause?”
“Stress of the job? Lack of progress?” Grayson leans back, arms folding over his chest. “Whatever it is, don’t let it worry you. Focus on learning what the king is planning to do next, now that he knows of the mage prince’s involvement.”
“Is there any word on the next trial?” Grayson shakes his head in answer, and exhaustion presses at my shoulders. “Maybe that is good. It’ll give Alden some time to cool down and you more time to speak with the shifter.”
Together, we make our way back to the barracks, and though I feel as if I could sleep for an entire week, it eludes me all the same.
Staring at the dark ceiling of my room, I repeat Alden’s words in my head, irritation burning beneath my skin.
I’m not angry that he accused me of faltering from the cause in front of everyone—though I know that seedling of doubt has now been planted in a few minds because of it.
No, my anger burns steadily in my chest because deep down, buried beneath the armor I wear and the masks I hide behind, I can’t deny that he is right.