Chapter 15 Kailia
Kailia
“Trouble between you and Cethin already?”
Turning away from the window she’d been staring out of, Kailia looked at her personal guard.
Razik sat lazily on the sofa, one foot on the ground while his other leg was stretched along the length of it.
With an arm splayed across the back, he had a book open in his other hand.
Something he’d found on one of the bookshelves.
Despite being in what she’d gathered was his typical attire, he seemed comfortable enough in the king’s private rooms.
And while he’d been lounging around, she’d been lost to her dream from the night before.
She’d only endured a little of the torture before she’d managed to wake herself up, and she hadn’t been lying when she’d told Cethin it was unnerving to wake up somewhere unfamiliar.
Perhaps she’d been more disturbed with herself for being disappointed that Cethin hadn’t even been in the room when she’d jolted awake.
His side of the bed had not been slept on, same as the night before.
For someone who insisted she stay in his chambers, he didn’t appear to sleep there at all.
Still feeling phantom burns along her skin, she’d crept down the hall to find him writing in a journal of sorts. Then she’d let him draw her into a frivolous round of bickering just to distract her.
But gods, when his magic flitted along her own? That was something she’d never experienced before, but a part of her wanted to again. Was it always like that?
No.
She was not contemplating that right now.
Or ever.
Ignoring Razik’s question, she asked one of her own. “Do you spend a lot of time in these rooms?”
“By Sargon, no,” Razik replied, looking up from the pages he was reading.
“You appear as though you do,” she went on. “You seem at ease, like you are at home here.”
“I stood outside that door for hours because the king needed to prove a point to showcase his dominance,” Razik replied impassively.
“Then, when I was allowed in, you decided to stare out a window for the last two hours, despite telling your betrothed that you were tired and feeling under the weather. So again I’ll ask you: trouble between you and Cethin already? ”
She pressed her lips together, feeling outsmarted yet again.
The male was similar to Cethin in some ways, but where Cethin used his title and power to get what he wanted, Razik relied on appearing constantly apathetic despite observing every minor detail in a room.
Both effective methods, really. They’d simply each honed different skills, but they both used them to the same ends.
However, recognizing all that also let her see the issue at hand.
Razik was too observant, and she’d have to be extra convincing around him.
Clearing her throat, she curled her fingers along the fabric of her dress. She’d changed into it to make Cethin think she’d be joining him at the meeting he was currently holding.
Forcing a small smile to her lips, she said, “Cethin and I are fine. I truly did not get much rest last night, and the thought of sitting on display again today was… This is all happening very fast. It is a bit overwhelming.”
She immediately went over everything she’d just said. Did it sound convincing enough? Was she proper enough for a queen? Was it too many words? Not enough?
Razik hummed, closing the book and setting it carefully on the low table. “I’m calling bullshit on the first part of that. You and Cethin are not fine, but that’s your business.”
Her brow furrowed. “Then why did you ask?”
“Because we’ve been sitting here in silence for two hours,” he deadpanned. “And while I prefer quiet and solitude, you standing over there staring out a window like a wraith is uncouth.”
Was it?
She eyed him as she said, “I’d question you speaking to your future queen in such a manner, but I’ve seen how you interact with Cethin.”
“Cethin can fuck off, but that’s not the point,” Razik replied, pushing to his feet. “You say you don’t want to be on display, but that’s exactly the life you signed up for. You can’t stand around all day staring out windows.”
“You scarcely know me, yet you speak as if this is normal for me,” she retorted.
“Is it?” he countered.
“No,” she replied, lifting her chin.
“Practice lying more. You’re terrible at it, Lia.”
Her lip curled back. “Perhaps Cethin was right. Maybe a different personal guard would be best, Raz.”
“You’d hate that,” he retorted, brushing past her to head down the hallway.
“Why would you say that? And where are you going?” she demanded, following after him.
“To get you a cloak and boots,” he replied over his shoulder. “And you’d hate it because any other personal guard is going to care about Cethin’s opinions and demands over yours. We’ve already established I don’t give a fuck.”
“And I care about that because? And a cloak and boots for what?” she questioned as Razik pushed the doors open to the bedchamber. For someone who claimed to spend little time here, he certainly knew his way around. It only furthered her scorned lovers suspicion.
“I’m not going to ask permission from the king before taking you into the city,” he called out from the dressing room.
“Into the city? For what?”
“To practice being on display. You’re clearly out of your element,” he answered, emerging from the dressing room with a velvet cloak and elegant black boots.
“The cloak seems a bit much,” she said, eyeing the items. “And the boots are unnecessary.” Then she brought her gaze to his, worrying her bottom lip. “Is it that obvious how ill-equipped I am for this?”
“Painfully.”
She scowled at him. “You are an ass.”
“How astute of you, but yes. Glad you figured that out now,” he replied, tossing the cloak to her. She caught it with one hand, the fabric soft and plush beneath her fingers. “The cloak would be expected of a queen, and the boots are necessary because shoes are necessary among society.”
“I feel as if the queen shouldn’t have to conform to society,” she murmured, running her finger along the elegant silver embroidery of the cloak. Stars and moons and beautiful detailing among it all ran around the edges and the hem.
Razik shrugged, dropping the boots at her feet. “You’re the one concerned with being on display and not wanting to appear unsuitable for the job.”
By the gods, this male was as much of a jackass as Cethin was, but…
This could work in her favor.
He clearly had some sort of vendetta against the king, and she needed to figure out why the Oracle had appeared as Razik when she’d visited. If he was willing to help her say and do the right things as the future queen, it would keep Cethin at arm’s width and still accomplish her goals.
And she needed Cethin to keep his distance because his presence was unnerving.
The way he’d spoken to her this morning, so close she could feel his breath stir her hair?
Gods. He was as perceptive as Razik, and he was using it to his advantage while she was at a complete disadvantage because she didn’t understand any of it.
Like, why had her magic responded the way it had when his dark power had tangled with it?
No.
Still not thinking of that.
“Fine,” she said, going to the dresser to retrieve stockings.
She slid them on and then the boots, hating the feel of them, but she could admit they were beautiful for shoes.
They weren’t riding boots or combat boots.
No, these were purely for aesthetics with pointed toes and a slight lift at the heel.
Silver buckles and branded designs on the leather.
They were as frivolous as the necklace at her throat.
Reaching for the crystal, she twisted it between her fingers as she turned back to Razik. “What, exactly, are we going to do in town?”
“There are merchants traveling through Aimonway,” he answered while she retrieved the cloak from where she’d tossed it on the bed.
Slinging it around her shoulders, she asked skeptically, “You intend to go shopping?”
“No, I intend for you to practice being among the people you are going to rule over,” he said, watching her clasp the silver clip of the cloak. Then he extended a hand to her. “Are you ready?”
“You can Travel from these rooms?”
He smirked. “I’m your personal guard, Lia. The wards were altered last night in case you needed rescuing.”
She rolled her eyes. “If anyone is going to need rescuing, it’s Cethin.”
Razik gave a low chuckle of amusement. “Believe me. I know.” He motioned with his hand again with a knowing look. “It’s only for a moment.”
Apparently she was just as painfully obvious with what made her uncomfortable. Both Razik and Cethin had clearly deciphered how much she abhorred physical touch.
Focusing on not wincing, she placed the tips of her fingers in his palm, but it was enough. A moment later, she stood in the center of the city. The exact place she’d first spoken to Cethin.
The sun was shining, but there was still a chill in the air as the winter season desperately tried to cling to life despite spring having arrived. Instead of market stands, there were carts parked along the roads, any manner of merchandise for sale.
“Now what?” she asked, swiping strands of hair from her face as a small breeze flitted around them.
“Now you practice being among other people,” Razik said simply. “Don’t try to shrink to the sidelines or blend in. As soon as the betrothal is formally announced, that will never happen again unless you’re in your magic.”
“I don’t like people,” she muttered, already on edge at the crowds milling around and haggling with merchants. “These people just travel around with carts of trinkets?”
“They’re traveling merchants, yes,” Razik answered, walking down the road.
She hurried to keep up, her boots clicking on the stone. The sound was terrible. How would she hear anyone approaching over the sound of her own godsdamn footwear?