Chapter 18 Razik
Razik
The rapping of knuckles on the doorjamb had him looking up.
Jarek’s face was grim when he said, “The Commander is here.”
Razik waited until the male had left before he released the heavy sigh. He’d been waiting for Tybalt to show up.
Everything had been complete shit since the phantoms had attacked.
The physical fight with Cethin. Kailia’s attack.
Coming back here only for Cethin to collapse.
Yeah, it’d simply been a matter of time until his uncle showed up here.
Honestly, he was surprised he hadn’t returned with Niara.
Tybalt was one of the few people who could Travel directly into the Sutara Family Country Estate.
Instead, Fallon had waited outside for the Witch while Jarek had helped get Cethin up to the king’s quarters on the third floor.
Ariadne had gone with Draven and Bram to see what they could learn about Kailia’s attackers, but also to gather their hunting things and the horses.
At least he didn’t have to deal with Bram right now.
“I’ll stay with her,” Wren said softly, sitting up from the sofa she’d been resting on. They’d been watching over Kailia while Jarek and Fallon had been staying with Cethin.
“Alert me if she so much as moves.”
“I know, Razik,” Wren said, pity in her tone.
His lips pressed in a firm line, he stood, heading downstairs to the sitting room and bracing himself for what was to come.
Tybalt was the best father figure he could have asked for, but that was not who he was going to face right now.
He was facing the Commander of the Avonleyan forces, whose king was once again present during an attack and had been severely wounded.
On his watch. On the watch of the entire Cadre.
They’d all be punished for that, but it would be different for him.
It always was, and he deserved it, considering his actual charge was also unconscious in a bed.
The Sutara Family Country Estate was located on the southeast edge of Shira Forest. Far smaller than the castle and even some estates in Aimonway, it was a three-story home.
And it was exactly that. A home. Instead of proper and regal, it was almost cozy and warm.
More King Tethys’s doing than the queen’s.
She didn’t know how to be anything but as cold as the stars.
He’d just stepped off the last stair when Tybalt appeared, his features tight with control. That is one thing his uncle excelled at. He could be furious and still keep himself composed and in check. In other words, he wouldn’t have punched the king in the face.
“Take me to Cethin,” he bit out, each word clipped and harsh.
Razik nodded, turning and heading back up the stairs, climbing to the third floor.
The moment they entered the room, Jarek and Fallon were on their feet and at attention, eyes down.
They knew as well as he did this was going to be bad when they were all back in Aimonway.
When the immediate crises had passed. And in the meantime, they knew Tybalt was meticulously planning a grueling punishment for the follies that had happened on this hunt.
“Leave us,” Tybalt said sharply.
“Yes, Commander,” they both said in unison, not wasting any time to head for the door.
“Check in on Wren,” Razik called after them. “She’s with Kailia.”
Fallon glanced over her shoulder and gave him a quick nod before following Jarek from the room.
Tense silence filled the space as Tybalt approached the bed where Cethin lay unconscious.
His torso was wrapped in a thick bandage, but the bruises and cuts on his face from their brawl were still plenty visible.
With so many injuries, it would take longer for Cethin’s magic to heal him.
“Tell me everything Niara has said,” Tybalt said curtly.
“She’s downstairs,” Razik answered, his brow creasing. Hadn’t he talked to her when he got here? “I can get her for a more comprehensive report.”
Glowing amber-red eyes with vertical pupils met his. “I want to hear it from you, Razik.”
He ground his molars, a muscle twitching in his jaw and a faint trace of pain echoing it, still feeling the effects of Cethin’s hits. His own magic wasn’t nearly replenished after the battle with the phantoms, and it would take him longer than usual to heal too.
“Two deep stab wounds to the right side,” Razik said. “One on top of the other. Normally not enough to lose consciousness, but the daggers used were not ones known to us. Niara believes the blades also caused some unexpected complications in her ability to aid the healing.”
“How did he receive the stab wounds?” Tybalt pushed, focused on the king.
“Kailia,” Razik ground out from between clenched teeth.
Tybalt hummed. “What else?”
“Broken ribs. Three of them. Along with the visual bruises and cuts.”
“Also from the future queen?”
His tone told Razik the Commander already knew the answer. Or, at the very least, knew it hadn’t been Kailia.
“No,” Razik gritted out. “Those are from me.”
Shame should have probably been washing through him, but it wasn’t. He didn’t feel an ounce of regret about having it out with Cethin. Probably shouldn’t have done so in the middle of a sacred forest, but beyond that, no regrets.
Tybalt didn’t seem surprised by that statement, but the obvious disappointment radiating off him still made Razik somehow even more tense. He might not regret his fist meeting Cethin’s face, but Tybalt’s disapproval would always matter, even if he didn’t want it to.
“What else?” Tybalt finally said.
“We were attacked in the middle of the night by more phantoms. Kailia and I defended the company, while the others helped by using her arrowheads. No one was hurt.”
Tybalt finally looked at him, arching a brow.
“No one was injured in that battle,” Razik amended begrudgingly.
“I’ve heard how Cethin came to this state, but not your charge?”
Your charge.
The one he was responsible for.
Point taken, uncle.
Because it was that situation that he did feel ashamed about.
“From what I’ve gathered, she was stalking a stag and was attacked.” Razik answered.
“By the phantoms?”
Razik shook his head. “Ariadne, Bram, and Draven went to investigate the scene. We didn’t get much of a chance to take it all in, but they were Avonleyan.”
“You’re sure?”
“As sure as I can be without seeing them closer. More than that, Kailia was covered in burns and what looked like thorn and vine imprints. Not to mention her clothing was soaking wet,” Razik answered. “Leads me to believe Fae or Avonleyan.”
“I’ll wait for Ariadne’s report before coming to that conclusion,” Tybalt said tersely.
Razik once again gnashed his teeth to keep from biting back a retort.
“Niara is unsure which of them will wake first,” he said when the silence stretched on.
Which was ridiculous. He relished silence, but not when he was sitting here drowning in his uncle’s disapproval of everything he’d done and said in the last two days.
“I understand I could have handled things differently—”
“Could have?” His uncle finally turned to face him fully. “Everything about this should have been handled fucking differently. You are all trained better than this. I trained every godsdamn one of you, but you—”
He shook his head, turning away from him, and gods, the action shouldn’t make his chest ache like this.
“It was clearly my mistake to place you in this role,” he said, sounding like he was speaking more to himself.
“It wasn’t,” Razik cut in. “You’re right. There’s something off about the entire situation. About her.”
“Clearly, based on the fact she’s managed to stab our king multiple times,” Tybalt said. “I obviously haven’t trained any of you as thoroughly as I should have. Something I’ll be taking into account for future training.”
Yep, saw that coming. Brutality was in their future.
“The failings aren’t yours,” Razik replied.
Tybalt turned to him, a brow arching again. “Are you accepting responsibility then?”
Razik steeled his spine, holding his uncle’s stare. “I am. For all of it.”
A glimmer of respect flickered in Tybalt’s eyes, and the relief that rushed through him eased a fraction of the tension in his limbs.
Until Tybalt said, “I’ll review positions and have your replacement figured out by the time you all return to Aimonway.”
“My replacement?” Razik demanded.
“How can I not assign a new personal guard to her when they are both wounded and unconscious due to situations that you just claimed full responsibility for?”
“Tybalt, I—”
“That is all. You’re dismissed,” the Commander said, turning back to the bed. “I’ll take over guarding the future queen. Jarek and Fallon can keep watch over the king. You can return to Aimonway.”
“This is bullshit,” Razik growled. “I was charged with guarding her.”
“And it’s obviously a job you cannot fulfill due to your relationship with Cethin. They go hand in hand,” Tybalt said. “Again, you’re dismissed.”
“He won’t let me anywhere near her,” Razik said, gesturing to Cethin’s sleeping form. “He won’t let me do my fucking job, Tybalt!”
“Precisely,” Tybalt snapped, his eyes glowing once more as he rounded on Razik, that control slipping a fraction.
“Neither one of you can put her safety above your feuds and grudges. The two of you are centuries old and still act like godsdamn younglings. I’m trying to help you find your place here, Razik.
I know you don’t want the life you were destined for, but everything I offer to you, you let your past and bitterness taint. I don’t—”
He shook his head again, turning away from him. “For this? What this has become? I take full responsibility for that. Something I will have to answer for when the time comes.”
“No,” Razik said, unable to find any other words because none of this was his uncle’s fault. There was definitely someone to blame, but it wasn’t him.