Chapter 12 Razik #2
“Razik,” Cethin greeted tightly. “It’s a little late for breakfast, isn’t it?”
“Evidently not too late if the king is only now getting here,” Razik replied apathetically, setting his toast down and reaching for the plate of sausages. He glanced up, still finding them staring at him. “Good to see you not shrieking like a crazed spirit, Lia.”
“That’s not my name,” she said, finally moving again.
Razik shrugged, taking a bite of his food.
The pair rounded the table. Cethin wore his usual attire, black tunic and pants, while Kailia was in a black dress that brushed the floor.
There were thigh-high slits up the sides though, and the sheer sleeves stopped below her shoulders, leaving her collarbones exposed.
The same necklace hung at her throat, and he found himself wondering about the significance of it.
Had she been wearing it when he’d first met her with Wren?
“Kailia, this is Razik Greybane, a member of the Cadre. It is my understanding you have not been formally introduced,” Cethin said tightly, taking the chair next to her.
“We’ve met a few times,” Razik drawled. “Most recently after she stabbed you, she then proceeded to attack me with her magic. I’m surprised you let her near the cutlery at this point.”
“A butter knife isn’t worth it,” Kailia said, several pieces of bacon already on her plate.
“A butter knife can do plenty of damage if you know where to aim,” Razik countered.
“I never said it couldn’t do damage. I said it wasn’t worth it,” she replied factually. “If I’m going to send someone to the After, I’m going to use a weapon worthy of such a thing.”
That was…disturbing.
Cethin cleared his throat as he passed Kailia a platter of fruit pastries. “That was all a misunderstanding.”
“I don’t know how you interpret stabbing you with your own dagger any other way,” Razik said flatly.
“Good thing it’s not your business, and I don’t owe you an explanation.”
Razik’s smirk was tight, barely a tilt of his lips. “Of course not, your Majesty. Why in the realms would I think the king would need to explain why the person who stabbed him is suddenly sharing the breakfast table with us?”
Kailia turned to Cethin, her eyes narrowed in accusation. “You said you were taking care of all of that.”
“I am,” Cethin ground out, his knuckles turning white where they were wrapped around his butter knife.
“You are doing a terrible job,” she said simply, returning to her meal.
Razik snorted a soft laugh. If he didn’t have his suspicions about her, he’d almost like her. Unfortunately for her, he was at maximum capacity for people he cared about.
“What are you even doing here, Greybane?” Cethin demanded.
Razik stared at him for a long second before he said, “Eating. I thought that was obvious.”
“It is,” Kailia agreed.
“By the Fates,” Cethin muttered, a smattering of his dark power drifting around him before he got control over it. “Don’t you have training or something else to be doing?”
“If I did, I’d be there,” Razik retorted. “But instead, I was informed you have a super special announcement to make, and Tybalt asked that I be there for that.”
“Why?”
“You tell me,” Razik replied before biting into his toast.
“How long have you known each other?” Kailia asked suddenly, drawing both their attention to her.
“Too long,” Cethin muttered, stabbing harshly at some fruit on his plate.
“There are only four years of my life that I didn’t know him,” Razik answered.
“How old are you?” Kailia pushed.
“How old are you?” Razik countered, and he didn’t miss how Cethin honed in on the question too.
She hummed before saying, “Old enough to know immortality is not the blessing the mortals believe it to be.”
Razik paused. “That’s…cryptic.”
“Is it?” she asked, picking up another strip of bacon.
For the first time in a long time, Razik wasn’t entirely sure what to say. He picked up his cup of juice, watching her as she went about her meal, seemingly without a care.
“You never attend advisory meetings,” Cethin said, breaking the silence.
“I tend to spend as little time in your presence as possible,” Razik retorted, giving his full attention to the male.
“Yet here you are.”
“I don’t understand,” Kailia announced.
“Don’t understand what, tiny fiend?” Cethin asked, sounding slightly exasperated as he rubbed at his temple.
“The dynamic here. With you two. You don’t speak as a king and a warrior. That’s what Wren said you were,” she added, glancing at Razik.
“It is.”
“But you speak as if you are more.”
“More what?”
She went quiet, thinking it over for a moment. Then she shrugged. “Familial maybe? Scorned lovers?”
Razik spat out his juice while Cethin choked on the bite of food he’d taken. She didn’t seem to realize her words were the reason for both. That or she didn’t care. She just continued eating her breakfast, having moved on to the fruit pastries.
“We are not and have never been lovers,” Cethin said tightly after a large gulp of water.
She hummed.
“We aren’t,” he insisted. “We do not get along.”
“You’re eating breakfast together,” she countered.
“Yes, but not by choice. He was already here when we arrived.”
“Because he was waiting for you.”
“Doubtful,” Cethin said dryly.
But Razik had resumed studying her. For as quirky as she was, she was incredibly perceptive. Probably from all the time spent spying from her ashes. Perceptiveness led to cleverness, and if his uncle was right, clever enemies were far more dangerous than ones who could swing a sword.
Kailia could do both, it appeared. Or at the very least, wield a bow with deadly precision.
He didn’t want to think about the fact that by taking on the role of Kailia’s personal guard under the guise of keeping her safe, he was actually providing that service to Cethin.
A guardian by proxy was not his intention, but becoming close to Kailia was the only way to figure out what her motives were—good or bad.
The atmosphere in the dining room thickened with tension. Kailia ate her meal as if she didn’t notice. Cethin was aiming subtle glares at Razik, and Razik wasn’t giving two fucks.
“Where is Wren?” Kailia asked suddenly.
Why was everything she said seemingly random? Was it a distraction tactic?
“She is helping with the Fae who are relocating,” Razik answered. “Why?”
“She said she is your Source.”
“She is,” he replied, eyes narrowing slightly at the topic. He didn’t like discussing his Source bond with anyone.
“I assumed she would always be with you,” she said simply. Then added, “But I suppose she was with other males in the city, and you weren’t there.”
“She is free to do as she pleases,” Razik said.
“Is that normal for a Source bond relationship?”
“Why so many questions, Kailia?” Cethin cut in, clearly not liking that her attention was on Razik and not him.
He was going to be furious when he learned who’d been assigned as her personal guard.
Approaching footsteps had them all turning to the sound, and a moment later, Zayan appeared. He halted upon finding the three of them together, his eyes skipping over the males and lingering on Kailia.
“Good morning, your Majesty. Greybane,” he greeted, his demeanor a little stiff. “Kailia, it is wonderful to see you again.”
She gave him a tight smile, glancing over at Cethin as if looking for guidance. The king’s features softened, and Razik fought the urge to roll his eyes. Tybalt was right. If Kailia was here for some nefarious purpose, Cethin was falling right into whatever spell she had woven.
“Kailia will be joining our advisory meeting today,” Cethin said to Zayan, dragging his eyes away from Kailia.
The Hand of the King did a terrible job of hiding his reaction at that statement. A mixture of surprise and dissatisfaction. The male rocked onto his toes, clasping his hands behind his back as his dark brown eyes slid from the king to Kailia and back.
“I see. I look forward to seeing both of you shortly then,” Zayan said with a small bow of his head before quickly retreating from the room.
“Everyone is going to know your business before you even get there,” Razik said dryly, picking up his glass of juice and draining it.
“I’m aware,” Cethin replied, pushing back his now empty plate. “Why do you think I said anything?”
“He’s terrible at his job.”
“How so?” Cethin asked flatly.
“What kind of Hand of the King spreads the king’s business?” Razik answered, pushing his plate aside as well.
“And who do you propose should replace him? You?”
“In your dreams, Sutara,” Razik retorted with a sneer.
Cethin smirked at the word choice.
Reaching over, Cethin brushed his fingers along Kailia’s arm, and she nearly jumped out of her chair. A rather dramatic reaction if Razik had ever seen one. Wait, was he—
“Kailia, can you give us a moment?” Razik asked, a low growl sounding with the words.
She looked at him in confusion, then back at Cethin. “I do need to use the privy.”
“There is one down the hall on the left,” Cethin said. “Do you need me to show you where?”
“I’m sure I can manage,” she said, sliding back her chair and getting to her feet.
Just as she reached the door, Cethin called after her, “Don’t wander, tiny fiend.”
She ignored him, and Razik waited until the dining room doors closed before he slid his gaze back to Cethin.
“What is it, Greybane?” Cethin asked warily.
“Are you forcing her into this?” Razik demanded.
Cethin’s features remained impassive, and the king settled back in his chair, steepling a finger along his temple. “Why would you think that?”
“Because she nearly jumped out of her skin at your touch,” he replied. “Considering you basically told Zayan you’re about to announce a betrothal, I’ll ask you again: are you forcing her into this? Or maybe I should ask if you’ve forced her in any way?”
That had Cethin straightening, his darkness making a full appearance and drifting across the table like a dense fog. Razik summoned dragon fire to his fingertips, letting it linger there while his eyes shifted to vertical slits.
“I know we do not care for one another and that your opinion of me is so low, it may as well be buried in the depths of the Pits of Torment, but if you ever accuse me of forcing myself physically on her, or anyone, again, you’ll be banished from this kingdom.
You can either figure out a way across the Wards or die trying.
I don’t give a fuck,” Cethin said, his power pulsing with his rage.
But if he thought that was going to deter him, he could fuck off himself.
“Then why did she react that way to your touch?” Razik pushed, toying with his black flames.
“She does that when anyone touches her,” Cethin spat. “Why do you think she lost her godsdamn mind when you picked her up?”
“Why? What happened to her?”
“I haven’t learned that yet,” Cethin answered, shoving back from the table and getting to his feet. “But I will. As for you, it’s none of your godsdamn business.”
Then he was stalking from the room, the doors banging shut behind him, but his power lingered, slowly dissipating.
Razik continued to roll the flames along his knuckles, thinking over this new information. Cethin may have answered the question about forcing himself on her physically, but it hadn’t escaped him that he hadn’t answered the question about forcing her into whatever this was about to be.
That was fine.
Nonchalantly pushing his chair back, he stood, swiping up a fruit tart to take with him as he went to piss off the king even more.