Chapter 22
Aiden
It was a good plan.
Make Rellmira think they had no other option for a ruler than the High Enforcer who held their royal city in the palm of his hand.
Weylin had stolen the throne via a quiet assassination and well-told lies, making him look like the rightful heir.
Renwell simply removed any arguments in the matter. Not that anyone would want to argue with a man who controlled an army of Shadow-Wolves.
Kiera looked troubled, no doubt many of the same thoughts racing through her head.
Maz was scowling. Yarina and Sigrid looked indifferent. After all, Rellmira’s politics didn’t concern them. Instead, they hounded me about Calimber every chance they got.
Nikella . . . Nikella was furious. Which was rare for her. I remembered it happening only a handful of times. But her brother arresting a Teacher and destroying part of a sacred Temple had pressed a nerve.
Gods, I hated to think about what they were doing with Librius. Or what they’d already done.
He would probably meet the same fate as Garyth.
A memory of Garyth’s mutilated body covered in leeches flashed behind my eyes.
My chest tightened. Everyone who helped me received terrible deaths. Perhaps I should stop fighting. Let Rellmira go. Let the Falcryn line truly die out, as Renwell proclaimed.
I glanced at Kiera, her scarred cheek, her damp hair.
The memory of swimming naked in the river together surfaced in my mind. An heir who wanted to remain hidden and a false princess who gave up her crown. We made quite a pair, avoiding the same throne as best we could.
But despite the truths that still needed to be told, I clung to the one she’d given me that night.
“Our time in The Hollow . . . that was the most truthful I’d been in years.”
Those words had healed a part of my heart that had lost hope. But now that troublesome emotion was back. Nothing brought more heartbreak than hope.
Ruru suddenly let out a snore. The poor boy had dozed off in the silence.
“The letters,” I reminded him, gently shaking his shoulder.
His eyes snapped open. “Right, right. Er, in my bag. Melaena said you’d know what to do with them.”
I gave them a cursory glance and left them in the bag. “Excellent. Thank you, Ruru,” I said. “Now let’s get you to bed. We can finish catching up tomorrow.”
He nodded, his chin already dropping toward his chest again. My heart warmed with fondness. Ruru’s loyalty and dedication to his friends were truly unmatched. I’d hated leaving him behind in Aquinon, but I’d also hoped he would escape sooner and find a new, quiet life for himself.
But of course, he’d traveled through dangerous territory just to bring me this stack of scribbles. He probably didn’t even know what they were.
I did. And while I was relieved Melaena had gotten rid of the incriminating letters, they would do little good out here. Ruru’s presence was far more valuable. Tomorrow, I would ask him how he survived on his own, having never been outside of Aquinon before.
“He can take the extra bed in our lodge,” Maz said.
I nodded and helped Ruru get to his feet.
“Maz. Whistler,” he mumbled, pointing in the general direction of his bags. Then he slumped against me.
Kiera shored up Ruru’s other side, his boots in her other hand, while Maz dove for the unopened saddlebag.
He dug out his shiny whistler and a handful of darts, beaming. “Fucking Four, Ruru, how did you get all this out of Aquinon?”
Ruru’s head simply lolled in answer.
“Tomorrow,” I told Maz.
Kiera and I half-carried Ruru to the lodge I shared with Maz. I hesitated at the threshold, wary of bringing Kiera into our sleeping quarters. Neither Maz nor I had taken the time to do anything other than dump our gear.
But then I remembered she used to share a tiny apartment with us in Aquinon.
I pushed through the heavy fur curtain that served as a door and kicked aside boots, clothes, and weapons to clear us a path to the small bed against the far wall.
We draped Ruru across it, laying his head on the thin pillow. I covered him with blankets while Kiera tucked his boots next to the bed.
Then we stood and stared at him as if neither of us could truly believe he was here.
“He must’ve suffered so much,” Kiera whispered. “There was no food or water left in those bags.”
I glanced down at her. Her shoulder brushed mine, and I missed her with a sudden, fierce ache that rushed through my veins.
“Perhaps he only made it this far because of the extra coins you gave him,” I whispered.
Her sad amber eyes were like a fist to my chest. “They were never mine to begin with. I sacrificed nothing to give him those coins.”
“But you did it because you loved him, and that may have kept him on this side of the Abyss.”
“Why are you trying to defend me against myself? Why do you care after everything else I’ve done?”
Unable to resist, I cupped her jaw in my hand. Her eyes fluttered closed.
“I don’t know,” I said, my voice low and rough. “Perhaps because when I get a glimpse of the woman I . . . admired, it makes me feel like I wasn’t completely wrong about her. That maybe her other life was a lie, and her real one was in that apartment with the three of us. With me.”
“Aiden,” she whispered, swaying closer to me.
I swallowed hard, grazing my thumb on her cheek. “Like when you said you were glad your father was dead. I didn’t realize—”
Kiera jerked out of my grasp. “My father? Did you think I was ignorant enough to still care for that murderer? Just like you think I’ll happily become Renwell’s puppet again?”
“No, gods damn it.” I shoved my empty hands through my hair. How did we get into a fight every time we spoke to each other? “The way you talked about my attempt on Weylin’s life made me think you hated me for it. Even if I couldn’t finish the job in the end.”
She froze, her eyebrows pinching together. “What do you mean? If I hadn’t interrupted, you wouldn’t have killed him?”
“I wanted to. But then I saw your eyes in his and realized I didn’t want to be the man who took both your parents from you.”
Kiera inhaled sharply. Her eyes bounced back and forth between mine. I wanted to know what she saw. An enemy? An ally? Someone she wished she’d never met?
I’d seen her as all three. And more.
“Tell me what happened that night,” she whispered.
My hands clenched into fists at my sides. I knew by her tone which night she meant. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, her eyes already rimmed with silver. “I want to know the truth once and for all. I want to know why she had to die.”
I yearned to reach for her again, but that never seemed to end well anymore. I rubbed my hand over my bristly jaw. “I’ve never told anyone else the details before.”
“Not even Nikella?”
I shook my head. She knew the general information, as did Maz. But some bits and pieces I’d kept for myself, unable to bare such ugly pain to someone else. Until I found out who Kiera was.
Striding over to my bed, I cleared it of my bags. I sat down and gestured for Kiera to join me. She sat next to me, an arm’s length away. Her fingertips danced over her thigh. I almost smiled at the familiar gesture.
I clasped my hands in front of me. Words eluded me. How did I start such a story?
Ruru’s snores filled the lodge, like a creaky door that kept swinging in the wind.
“You said she was best friends with your mother?” Kiera asked, her voice strange and unsure, as if she didn’t know where to start either.
My shoulders relaxed an inch, something Brielle had said that night coming back to me. “Yes. Strange, isn’t it? That we could’ve grown up together. We might’ve even been friends—you, me, Everett, and Delysia.”
A smile peeked around the corners of Kiera’s mouth. “I can hardly imagine it. You would’ve been like another older brother . . . or my first crush.”
“Definitely the latter,” I growled.
Her smile quirked higher, then disappeared. “I’m sorry for what my father did. I know it’s not my fault, but I am sorry for all the pain he caused. None of you deserved that.”
Something burned deep inside my chest. An old wound that never received much attention, but was grateful for the soothing balm of kind words, anyway.
“Thank you, Kiera. But as Maz told me, there’s enough pain to go around. My family wasn’t the only one to suffer.”
“No.” Kiera bit her lip. “Tell me what happened that night.”
I dragged in a long breath. I didn’t have to dig deep for the memories. They were my constant companions, a chronic pain I couldn’t ease.
“Two years ago, on Viridana’s Day . . .”