Chapter 23 #2
“How is that my job?”
“It’s not. I just don’t want to stand outside your door all day. Again.”
“You can come inside. I’ll deal with Cethin.”
He smirked. “I’m sure you will.”
Her brow furrowed. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Because you avoid people and social interactions,” he said. “Give me your hand.” When she eyed his outstretched hand, he added, “I could help with this, you know.”
Her gaze snapped to his. “Help with what?”
He gave her a knowing look. “All of it. Help you work up to social engagements. Get used to small touches. Learning what you should know to be the queen of this kingdom. I’m a walking, talking resource, Kailia.
Use me to your advantage rather than trying to gather all your information by eavesdropping. It makes you a busybody.”
“Why does everyone keep calling me that? I am not a busybody,” she muttered.
“Yes, you are. We all are, but it’s more useful if you can apply the things you see and hear to things you already know.”
She stared back at him for a long moment before she said, “Fine,” and slipped her fingers into his still-waiting palm.
A moment later, they stood on the docks by the Edria Sea.
Kailia immediately wrapped her arms around herself as she looked around, and Razik cursed internally.
He was so used to having the dragon fire in his veins to keep him warm, he never worried about the weather.
It wasn’t overly cold today, but the docks were always cooler due to the sea breeze, and she was in a lightweight dark green dress with short sleeves and a fitted bodice.
Plucking a cloak from a swirl of black flames, he handed it over to her.
“Thank you,” Kailia murmured, quickly draping it over her shoulders and clasping the brass hooks.
“I keep it for Wren,” he replied, because he often forgot the same thing with her, despite trying to be better about it.
She nodded. “Where is she today?”
He shrugged. “Not outdoors,” he answered. After the hunt, she’d likely spend the next week inside.
“You and Wren are very different,” Kailia replied, falling into step beside him as he made his way down the boardwalk.
“There’s those observational skills again,” he replied dryly. Then he huffed a laugh when she lifted her hand and flipped him her middle finger. “Very unqueenly, Lia.”
She rolled her eyes. “I meant it is an unlikely pairing considering how different you two are.”
“Yep,” he said, climbing some wooden steps.
“So you just…see each other when you need your power refilled or want a fuck?” she asked, genuine curiosity in her tone.
“So crass,” he chided as they came to an unmarked door.
“Sometimes the facts are,” she replied, looking up at the nondescript building. “This is where your errand is?”
“Yes. When we go inside, I need you to not ask questions,” he said.
“Why?”
“That’s a question, Lia.”
“We’re not inside, Raz.”
“If I’m a dick, you’re a smartass,” he retorted.
“For stating a fact?”
He swiped a hand down his face. “Just no questions. And pull your hood up.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she did as he said, pulling the hood of the cloak up and hiding her features. “Anything else?” she drawled.
“Are you like this with Cethin too?” he asked, reaching for the door handle.
“Like what?”
“Annoyingly mouthy.”
“Fuck off, Raz,” she muttered, pushing past him and shoving the door open.
They stepped inside, the room becoming so dim it was hard to see anything when the door closed behind them. He shifted his eyes to see better, scanning the room of wooden tables.
“It’s a tavern,” Kailia murmured. “You brought me to a tavern for an errand? What is it? Finding someone else for your bed tonight?”
He looked down at her, not minding this side of her personality coming out when she wasn’t on her best behavior inside a castle. “What kind of taverns do you frequent that you think that’s what taverns are for?”
“It’s just an observation,” she replied, staying close but keeping enough distance between them that they didn’t touch.
“I think you’re confusing taverns with brothels.”
She scoffed. “I am not. Brothels are where people go openly looking for a partner. Taverns are where they go when they’re trying to hide the fact that that’s what they’re looking for.” She paused, then added, “Or where one goes to take advantage of the unsuspecting.”
“You have spent too much time in your smoke and ashes, Lia,” he muttered, making his way through the room while also making sure she remained at his side.
They reached a booth in the back, and he nodded to the group sitting there.
Three males and a female, all of them from the ships that sailed along the continent transferring goods from one side of the Olwen Mountains to the other.
There were cards and coin on the table, the group of them in the middle of a hand.
“Greybane,” one of the males greeted. His pale blue eyes skipped to Kailia, taking her in. “You’ve never brought a companion with you. Who’s this?”
“That’s not your concern, MacMillan,” Razik replied, shifting to hide her a little more from view. “Did you get what I asked for?”
The male shook his head, laying his cards face down on the table. Pulling a sack from the space beside him, he passed it over.
Razik looked over the contents for a solid minute before nodding and pulling a small pouch of coin from a swirl of black flames, tossing it on the table. The male swiped it up, not bothering to count it. He knew he was good for it.
“Pleasure as always, Greybane,” he said with a smarmy grin. His gaze skipped back to Kailia. Gesturing to the cards, he added, “Sure you and the female don’t want in? It’s quite the competition right now.”
“A competition?” Kailia asked, peeking around Razik.
“No,” he said sternly, taking a step back and reaching to bring Kailia with him.
Except the male on the other side of the booth also reached for her, grabbing her arm and pulling her down to his lap. Or attempting to as he said, “Aw, she can stay. Can’t you, pretty thing?”
Before anyone could so much as move, Kailia had spun, pulling a dagger from the gods-knew-where. The blade was pressed along his throat, and Razik didn’t understand why he was bellowing in pain.
Then he noticed the small knife protruding from his hand, pinning it to the table.
Shit.
Fucking shit.
“What the fuck?” MacMillan barked, on his feet and a dagger of his own in hand. “Who the fuck is this, Greybane?”
“Still none of your concern,” Razik answered. “Let’s go,” he ground out to Kailia.
“She stabbed Jenkins. I think she made it our concern,” crooned the female, climbing atop the table like a lithe cat, a knife in hand.
“Come here,” MacMallin snarled, reaching for Kailia himself.
“I wouldn’t—” Razik started, but it was too late.
Kailia had twisted away from his grasp, her dagger flying and embedding itself in the male’s shoulder as another knife flew at the female.
“Gods-fucking-dammit,” Razik growled, pandemonium erupting around them.
Because when Kailia had thrown her dagger, the other female had leapt to avoid the knife, sending a mug of ale flying from their table directly onto those in the next booth.
Sticky mead spilled onto the patrons and their table.
That guy had reached over the booth, smashing a bottle atop the head of the card game’s third male.
Another had rounded the table, going for Jenkins, whose hand was still stuck to the table while MacMallin was going for Kailia yet again. And she—
“Where do you keep getting these fucking blades?” Razik growled, looping an arm around her waist, more than prepared for the fit that was about to happen.
He’d already summoned his black flames, using them to combat the ashes she was trying to rake down his body.
He Traveled them out of the tavern a moment before another male was hit so hard, he stumbled back directly to where they’d been standing.
As soon as they appeared in his study at Tybalt’s home, he released Kailia, dropping her onto the rug. She was on her knees, gasping. Her eyes were wild and frantic as she took in the space. He lowered to a crouch before her, catching her wrist when she tried to strike out with her dagger.
“Lia, it’s me,” he growled, releasing her when she yanked her arm back.
Her ashes swirled around her, but she didn’t try to move in them from what he could tell. She did, however, cock her arm back again.
“Do not throw that at me,” he warned in a low growl.
But of course she fucking did.
His hand snapped up, catching it by the hilt. Flipping it, he threw it right back at her, aiming just to the left. She lurched to the side, not that she would have needed to, and then she spun back to him.
“You threw my own dagger at me,” she snapped, those ashes still vibrating around her in a frenzy, but there was a glimmer of clarity in her eyes.
“You threw it at me first,” he retorted, grabbing the sack beside him and getting back to his feet. “For the record, it wasn’t going to hit you because my aim is that good,” he added, echoing her words from the hunt.
She went quiet, and he let her be as he moved to his desk.
Pulling open a drawer, he retrieved a thick ledger, flipping it open until he found the page he wanted.
For several minutes, there was quiet while he let her collect herself.
He put some books away that he’d been using for research while gathering some other ones, feeling her eyes on him the entire time.
Eventually, he said, “There’s water on the cart over there.”
She nodded, slowly getting to her feet and heading in the direction he’d indicated. Pouring herself a glass, she drank half of it before setting it aside.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, not looking up from the book he was searching through.
“Talk about what?” she asked.
That had him meeting her stare with a frankness. “You started a brawl in a tavern, Lia.”
“Which we won.”
“Which we… How in the fuck do you figure that?”
“Neither of us was hit, neither of us is bleeding, and we are no longer in the tavern,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Kailia,” the name flat and monotone.
“What?”
Flipping the book closed, he rested his hand atop it. “You can’t stab someone anytime they touch you.”
“I can if it’s not invited.”
“Admittedly, today’s situation is not the best example,” he sighed.
“You took me to the tavern,” she accused, coming closer to the desk.
“Are you seriously trying to tell me all of this was my fault?” he asked, pointing at his chest.
“You are the one who needed to get— What’s even in that?” she asked, reaching for the sack.
But before her fingers closed on the fabric, he’d snatched it up. “It’s mine.”
She blinked at him. “I wasn’t going to steal it.”
He scoffed. “As if you could steal something from me.”
“I could,” she protested.
“It wasn’t a challenge, Lia,” he deadpanned.
She hummed. “Well, what was so important we got into a brawl for it?”
“We didn’t— Nevermind,” he growled, handing her the sack.
She opened it, looked inside, and then back at him. “It’s a bowl.”
“Yep,” he said, swiping the sack back and placing it in a drawer. He’d deal with it later.
“Why did we go to a tavern to collect a bowl?”
“Don’t tell Cethin I took you to the tavern,” he answered, grabbing the book from the desk and handing it to her before heading towards the spiral staircase that would take them down to his chambers.
“But you’re fine if I tell him you threw a dagger at me?” she asked, following him.
Razik shrugged, glancing at her to see her eyes darting around the space, cataloguing everything as she moved.
“What is this?” she asked.
“A book,” he answered as she held up the thing.
Her lips pursed. “Why did you give it to me?”
“I didn’t. I’m letting you borrow it. Basic Avonleyan history, geography, notable places and people. You know, things you should be aware of as the queen.”
As they reached the staircase, he stepped to the side, gesturing for her to go first, but she hesitated, looking up at him.
“Don’t tell Cethin I started a brawl,” she said. Then added thoughtfully as she undid the clasps of the cloak she still wore, the book tucked under her arm, “I don’t think a queen is supposed to do that.”
He waited until she was handing him the garment before he said, “If Cethin knew another male had laid a finger on you, a knife through the hand would be a blessing compared to what he would do to them. Remember that, Kailia.”
Her features seemed to sharpen as the smoke in her eyes swirled a little faster. “I know exactly what the king is capable of.”
“Do you?” Razik asked. “Because as far as I’m aware, you two hardly know each other. You’ve been on your best behavior around each other, minus the whole stabbing him four times thing.”
Her eyes narrowed, but he moved around her. As he descended the stairs, he called over his shoulder, “You’re his wife, Kailia. He’ll do anything to protect you.”
“I don’t need his protection,” she retorted, following him down the stairs.
“Until you can think through your panic and don’t blindly react, you absolutely do.”
“You didn’t do anything to step in today,” she argued.
“Why would I deny you the right to defend yourself?” he asked, leading her through the space. “I didn’t interfere until I had to.”
“You didn’t have to,” she insisted.
“I did, because if it’s discovered the new queen is starting brawls by the docks, it’ll be both our asses,” he grumbled. “But more so mine, even though you started the whole debacle.”
“I think you started it by going there for a bowl,” she mused.
He said nothing more, done with the conversation.
But he’d cracked some kind of code today.
Taking her out. Doing random things. Letting her get into a godsdamn brawl.
He needed her comfortable around him if he was going to figure out her motives, and if brawls in a tavern were what it was going to take, he needed to get her a different cloak that would hide her face better.