Chapter 18 Razik #2
His features were grim when he looked back at Razik. “If words could change things, the realms would look a whole lot different. You’re dismissed, Razik.”
“I’m not leaving,” Razik said resolutely. “I can do this. I want to do this.”
“If you wanted to, you would.”
“I…” He pushed out a frustrated breath. “I’ll prove myself, Tybalt. I won’t disappoint you again. You entrusted me with this. I won’t fail you again.”
The silence was heavy, seconds ticking by, and Razik waited for his uncle to look at him. To say something. To do anything.
Finally, he shook his head, rubbing at his brow. “If she were here…”
“But she’s not. Unless you know something I don’t?” Razik replied.
His uncle looked up to meet his stare, something akin to resignation and defeat playing out on his face. “This is the last time I can extend you grace in this.”
“It won’t be needed again.”
Making his way to the door, Tybalt stopped beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “I need that to be true.”
Then he left the room, leaving Razik alone. He glared at the sleeping king. The source of so much fucking agony and conflict. All because of her.
Lifting a hand, he sent a message among a swirl of black flames to Wren, checking on Kailia and asking her to let him know the moment anything changed.
Then he settled into an armchair across the room.
He needed to get used to being in Cethin’s presence.
Having him unconscious was a good way to ease into it, he supposed.
It was a start, and for now, that needed to be enough.
Five more fucking hours.
That was how long it took for Cethin to stir.
He’d checked in on Kailia every half hour, Jarek staying with Cethin when he left.
On her next round of checking wounds, Niara had said she suspected Cethin would wake first, mainly because his wounds were only physical.
Whatever Kailia had faced had been more than the physical attacks, and Razik had ruminated on that for hours while sitting in the same chair.
She didn’t like to be touched, but what had caused such an aversion?
A groan of discomfort sounded as Cethin stirred, and he lifted an arm, swiping his hand down his face. Then he suddenly shot up, cursing at what Razik was sure was pain lancing up his side.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Razik ground out, crossing the room and easily shoving the male back down.
Confusion flitted across Cethin’s face before it morphed into the hatred they reserved for each other. “Fuck off, Greybane,” he growled, trying to sit up again. “Where’s Kailia?” His eyes darted around wildly before going wide. “Why am I up here?”
Razik eyed him warily. “Because it’s the king’s quarters, and you are the king.”
“No,” Cethin said, once again pushing to sit up, and Razik let him this time because he might be trying to be civil, but he wasn’t the male’s godsdamn keeper.
“No to which part?” Razik asked, wondering if he’d hit his head harder than they’d all thought when he’d passed out. Niara had said that was the least of the worries, but now Razik wasn’t so sure.
“Where is Kailia?” Cethin demanded, sucking in a sharp breath.
“She’s down a floor in your old bedchambers,” Razik answered. “Lie back down. You have broken ribs and were stabbed. Again. Twice.” Then he sighed as Cethin pushed to his feet, using the bed to steady himself. “That’s the opposite of lying back down.”
“Shut up, jackass,” Cethin grunted, making it to the pole of the four-poster bed before he had to stop and suck in another sharp breath.
With another audible sigh of resignation, Razik closed the distance between them, reaching for his shoulder.
Cethin jerked back, barking another curse and gripping his side gingerly as he rasped out, “What are you doing?”
“As entertaining as it would be to watch you maneuver the stairs, Niara will have my balls if I let you do that. So I figured I’d Travel you down there,” he answered.
It was a half truth. Niara would be livid, and she was formidable, but he wasn’t about to tell Cethin that he was trying to prove himself to his uncle too.
“Yeah, all right,” Cethin muttered, his body relaxing some.
“You’re welcome,” Razik said, gripping his shoulder and pulling them through the air before Cethin could finish the curse that he’d started to utter.
As soon as they appeared, Cethin forgot about him anyway, grimacing as he rushed to the bed. Wren had lurched to her feet, and Jarek had pushed off the wall at their arrival, both of them momentarily startled.
“Why hasn’t she woken yet? Where is Niara?” Cethin demanded. He lifted a hand but stopped short, his hand hovering over her brow as though he was going to smooth her hair back.
“Niara has been monitoring both of you since our arrival here,” Razik supplied, crossing his arms and leaning a shoulder along the wall. “She suspected you would wake first. I’m assuming she’ll be here anytime for her rounds, and she’ll be none too pleased to find you up and about.”
“Here, Cethin,” Wren said, tugging on the armchair to move it closer.
Razik gently moved her aside, picking the chair up to set by the bed.
He’d no more than put it down before Cethin was lowering to the cushioned seat.
There was a fine sheen of sweat at his brow that told him being up for those few minutes had taken its toll, and he had to agree with Niara.
Those daggers of Kailia’s had done something to the male and had affected his healing abilities.
Turning to Jarek, Razik said, “Notify Niara and Tybalt that Cethin’s awake.”
Jarek nodded, gaze bouncing between him and Cethin with a questioning look, but he said nothing as he left the room. When he turned back, Cethin was leaning forward, half out of the chair and pulling Kailia’s blanket back.
“For fuck’s sake, sit down, Sutara,” Razik growled.
“I need to see her wound. How’s it healing?”
“It’s healing like the best Healer on the continent is tending to it,” he snapped.
Cethin sank into the chair, tipping his head back and eyes falling closed as he pressed his hand to his side.
Razik wanted to tell him it’d be better if he lay down, but the male wasn’t going to listen to him, so he’d let Niara deal with that.
Instead, he said, “Niara believes both of you will take longer than usual to heal for different reasons.”
Cracking an eye open, Cethin met his gaze, but when he didn’t say anything, Razik went on. “We believe the daggers used to stab you are having some effect on your healing speed, and the…prior injuries don’t help the process.”
Cethin snorted a derisive laugh, closing his eye again.
“As for Kailia,” Razik continued, “her abdominal wound was substantial, but Niara believes there are mental facets that are keeping her sleeping longer.”
“What does that mean?” Cethin asked, opening his eyes and sitting up straighter. Or attempting to. He quickly slumped back against the chair again.
The door opened then, Niara and Tybalt striding through.
“It means,” Niara said with a pointed glare at Cethin as she moved to the bedside, “that her mind is keeping her asleep to protect her for the time being. What happened in her past?”
“I don’t know all the details,” Cethin answered, watching every move the Healer made.
Niara only hummed as she worked, peeling back the wound dressing and applying more of a paste she’d made. Adding a new dressing, she replaced the blankets before turning to Cethin once more.
“You should not be up and moving so soon, your Majesty,” she said, her deep brown eyes raking over the king as she assessed him. It was easy enough to do considering Cethin was shirtless, showing the bandage wrapped around his abdomen.
“I needed to see her,” Cethin said, grimacing when she pressed along his torso.
“And you have, so you can return to your own chambers.”
“These are my chambers.”
“I believe Niara means upstairs,” Tybalt said, standing next to Razik with his arms crossed and watching on.
“No,” Cethin gritted out.
“You’ll heal faster if you rest. In a bed,” Niara said.
“I’m fine here.”
The Witch threw her hands up in exasperation. “Sometimes I wonder why you call on me at all.”
Cethin’s features softened a fraction. “I mean no disrespect, Niara. I simply wish to remain with her.”
“Then do so in the bed.”
Cethin hesitated, glancing at Kailia’s sleeping form before he said, “In a bit.”
Niara said nothing else, but she made her disapproval known as she left the room. She didn’t even do anything in particular. Witches just had that way about them.
“You’re being difficult for no reason, Cethin,” Tybalt said, and Razik bit his tongue knowing if he’d said something like that to the king, Tybalt would have shut him down immediately. “We can summon you as soon as she wakes.”
“I’m fine, Tybalt,” Cethin said.
“You need to rest.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“You’ll be more comfortable in your own chambers—”
“I’m sitting in my chambers!” Cethin snapped, and Razik almost slipped and showed his surprise at the fierceness of those words.
Tybalt had gone quiet, clearly trying to work out the same thing Razik was. Eventually, he said, “Wren, can you give us a moment please?”
“Of course,” Wren replied, and Razik could hear the relief in her voice. She wasn’t much for conflict. She could hold her own, but she avoided it when possible. “I’ll bring up some food for everyone.”
“Thank you, Wren,” Cethin murmured.
She bowed her head before rushing from the room, pulling the door to the bedchamber closed behind her.
Tybalt wasted no time. “I think you should consider moving this union.”
Razik waited for Cethin to immediately shut that notion down, but he stayed silent, silver gaze fixed on Kailia.
Avonleyan unions took place under full moons, and Cethin had announced that he and Kailia would be married during next month’s full moon with the kingdom celebration happening a few days later.
“I know the advisory council is eager for this,” Tybalt went on, “but I think we need to consider Kailia. Give her time to adjust. If we move it to the autumnal season, that gives us all time to get proper precautions in place. Perhaps we can figure out a way to handle this new threat better, as well as investigate who attacked her and why it happened.”
Still staring at his betrothed, Cethin said, “I agree.”
Razik nearly fell over at the simple words.
“You do?” Tybalt said, not hiding his shock.
Cethin straightened with a slight grimace as he finally shifted to face them. “I agree we need to move the union. Not back, but up. It needs to happen sooner.”
“Sooner?” Tybalt repeated, sounding even more taken aback, but Razik wasn’t surprised in the least. His lack of reaction from moments ago now made sense. “Cethin, the only full moon that is sooner is in four days.”
“Exactly. As you said, we need to consider Kailia in all this,” Cethin replied. “Her safety to be more specific. Right now, she’s just my betrothed. If she carries the title of queen, it will provide more protection.”
“How in the realms do you figure that?” Razik cut in. “You’re the king, and you’ve been attacked repeatedly in these last months alone. It doesn’t create less of a target; it creates a bigger one.”
Cethin’s silver irises leveled on him. “Then perhaps she needs a better equipped guard as well.”
“You had the best we have with you out on this hunt, and both of you ended up unconscious with severe injuries,” Tybalt interjected. “That’s not on Razik. If anything, it’s on you for even going on this hunt with the recent attacks. Like Razik said, your title puts you in more danger, not less.”
“The title also carries more power,” Cethin argued.
“Why are you so adamant about this?” Tybalt pushed. “Not three months ago we couldn’t even get you to contemplate a marriage, and now you are wanting to rush a union? What are you not telling us?”
Razik waited to see if he’d tell Tybalt how he was all but extorting the female for the kingdom.
Forcing her into a union for access to her weapons.
But there was more to all this. Razik had witnessed the obsessiveness and intrigue, and the king was different around her.
He had to be. Kailia’s personality and mannerisms forced anyone to be different with her.
Cethin pushed slowly to his feet, determination on his face. “We need her weapons to defend this kingdom. Marriages have been arranged for less.”
“Cethin,” Tybalt chastised in exasperation. “It does not have to be done this way.”
“Like you said, the council and citizens of the kingdom have been pushing for this for years. I’ve been repeatedly lectured about my disservice to the kingdom for waiting so long.
My commitments and reasoning have been called into question.
She’s more than weapons.” He paused, gaze lingering on her again.
“She’s so much more in ways I think we all have yet to discover. ”
“Maybe we should let her decide when she wakes,” Razik interrupted. “She might not even be awake in four days, but are either of you really going to be ready for such a thing? And even if you are, she should have some choice in all this, even if it’s as minor as when it happens.”
“Take some time to get to know her more,” Tybalt urged, trying to appeal to logic.
“We’ll have the rest of our immortal lives for that,” Cethin said, limping his way to the bathing chamber.
“And her choice in the matter?” Razik called after him, a familiar unease setting in at the idea of her not being given a choice in her own future.
Cethin paused at the doorway, turning to look at him knowingly. His words were cold and dark when he said, “It’s nowhere near the same thing, but she has a choice. I’ll just make sure she makes the correct one.”
Then he went into the bathing chamber, closing the door.
Razik shoved a hand through his hair in frustration.
“What do you know, Razik?” Tybalt asked, his uncle’s scrutinizing gaze fixed on him.
“I know she should have a fucking choice in this,” Razik said, his dragon becoming restless in his soul at his own agitation.
“Cethin’s right. It’s not the same thing. This union and the Guardian bond are—”
“Both require a willingness,” Razik snapped. “And when forced, both will lead to a resentment that can be damning.”
“And if she’s willing?” Tybalt asked. “Then what will your argument be?”
Razik walked to the door that led out to a small balcony, pulling it open. He needed some fresh air to cool off. He needed to shift and go flying, but he couldn’t go anywhere while his charge slept.
Feeling the spring wind on his face, he stared out at Shira Forest behind the estate as he said, “If she’s willing, we’re inviting something in that could be just as damning. Either way, we’re fucked.”