Chapter 34 Razik #2
“I don’t owe you any explanations,” she retorted, brushing past him to go to the dining room.
He followed, eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what had her in a mood today. It couldn’t be her cycle because he’d scent that blood. More than that, Cethin would likely be hovering more than usual and extra protective. But…
“When was your last cycle?” he asked as she piled pastries and cinnamon rolls onto a plate.
She went still, her eyes swirling almost violently when she slowly dragged them up to him. “Who asks that?”
“It’s a reasonable question.”
“From a partner. Or a Healer. Not… Why are you asking that?”
“I thought maybe it was responsible for the delightful mood I get to enjoy today—”
“Because you are so full of joy every day,” she interrupted blandly.
“But I realized I’d scent that,” he went on, ignoring her commentary. “Then I realized it might give us insight into your bloodline. Fae get their cycles every season. Avonleyans vary depending on which god or goddess they descend from, and it gets really fucked when bloodlines merge.”
Kailia was staring at him, holding her plate with two hands. “It is odd to me that you know any and all of that.”
“It’s basic anatomy and is a natural part of life for roughly half the realm’s population. Why wouldn’t I know that?”
She sat with that for a minute, taking a bite of pastry. “I suppose that makes sense. Plus, you have Wren.” She shrugged again. “What errand do we have to run?”
“That didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m not going to answer it,” she said simply.
“So I have to deal with this mood all day without an explanation?”
“I deal with you every day, don’t I?”
A small growl rumbled from his chest in annoyance. “Let’s go.”
“I’m going to finish my breakfast first,” she replied flatly, lowering pointedly into a chair with her plate of food.
“What have you been doing all morning?” he grumbled, crossing his arms.
Her lips thinned as she focused on her plate.
Normally, he wouldn’t care. Normally, he’d let someone sit in their foul mood because that was what he preferred.
He hated people prying and digging and pushing.
But she was different somehow. She didn’t irritate him as much as most did, and despite her odd mannerisms and misunderstood social cues, he somehow understood her.
Was drawn to her. Not in any sort of romantic way, but still a pull to her.
He’d attribute it to spending every day with her, but he’d been around long enough to know when there was more at play.
Forces and fate and things he’d been pushing back against his entire life.
Things he was supposed to embrace that he viewed as curses, and it made this whole relationship with Kailia complicated.
He needed her to be comfortable with him, but he hated that this was also fulfilling something designed by the Fates he loathed so much.
She didn’t answer him, and he was too lost to his internal debating to push her anymore, but by the gods did she take her time eating those godsdamn pastries.
“We’re late now,” he griped when she finally stood.
“You didn’t tell me time was of the essence,” she replied.
He shook his head while she did whatever else she needed to do before they left.
She’d become far more comfortable as of late.
It’d been three weeks since the Union Celebration.
With each outing, she interacted with others more and more, but beyond that, the Avonleyan people were becoming more comfortable with her.
He was sure the fact that she took down those spirit creatures and saved as many as she could at the celebration had a large hand in that.
Silver lining or whatever that shit saying was.
Shit, because who wanted a silver lining when you could have gold?
Some time later, he Traveled them to the docks, and she looked up at him with a frown. “The docks? Are we going to another tavern?”
“Not another. The same one,” he answered, leading the way. “Pull your hood up.”
She had to run a little to keep up with his long strides, and he should care about that, but he was annoyed with how long she’d taken to get going today.
“A hood isn’t going to do anything, Raz,” she argued. “I’m well-known now.”
“So am I.”
“You don’t wear a hood.”
“Then don’t wear one, Lia.”
He heard her noise of irritation, but she didn’t pull up the hood of her lightweight cloak. Neither of them spoke the rest of the way to the tavern, but as soon as they stepped inside, she made her way to a table off to the side and took a seat.
“What are you doing?” Razik growled, glancing to the booth in the back where his contacts were waiting.
“I’m sitting while you do whatever it is you’re here to do,” she replied, speaking as if he was stupid for even asking that question.
“By Sargon, what is up your ass today, Lia?”
But he didn’t give her a chance to answer.
Let her sit there if that was what she wanted to do.
He turned and headed over to the booth, the exchange of coin for product going much smoother without an impulsive queen with a blade.
When he returned to her, he arched a brow at the mug of ale before her.
Half gone.
Setting the cloth sack on the bench, he slid into the booth across from her. “If you were worried about your image as queen, drinking in this tavern is not the thing you should be doing,” he said dryly.
She shrugged.
“Kailia,” he said in a low warning.
“How did you meet Wren?” she asked.
“What does that have to do with anything?” he retorted, thrown off by the sudden change in subject.
“Nothing,” she said. “It’s just something I’ve been wondering.”
Razik shifted, getting more comfortable, and he signaled the server for a mug of ale of his own.
“You’re very protective of her,” Kailia added.
“She’s my Source. Of course I’m protective of her,” he said, sliding some coin to the server as he placed a mug on the table.
“But…how do you have a Source and Cethin doesn’t?”
He stiffened at the question. A question that had plagued him since it had become known that he had a Source. They’d kept it a secret for nearly a year after it had happened, but once word spread, there had certainly been a fallout that went back to Cethin. Everything always led back to Cethin.
“The Fae deaths aren’t a recent development,” he said, indulging Kailia in this rather than having to deal with her abysmal mood the rest of the day.
“It’s only been in the last hundred years or so that they started happening.
But even before then, with the Wards going up and separating Avonleya from the rest of the realm, there was worry about the Fae becoming scarce.
Most worried because they’re decent people who care about more than themselves, but some worried because of a resource that would be lost.”
She nodded, drinking her ale and making a face that made him wonder why she was putting herself through this.
“When the Fae deaths started to become more common, some found lucrative opportunities with the Fae by pandering to those who were becoming more and more anxious about losing the Fae for their own personal needs,” Razik continued.
“And Cethin did nothing to stop this?” she asked.
“Cethin wasn’t the king yet, but regardless, it was addressed, yes.
There were already laws in place, but King Tethys imposed harsher consequences.
But laws and potential consequences aren’t enough to deter some, especially if they’ve been running black market operations far longer than anyone realized,” Razik explained.
“Was it ever discovered who had started it or how it went undiscovered for so long?” she asked, signaling for another mug of ale.
Razik eyed her, but he said nothing about the alcohol.
“No,” he answered. “It’s something that is still being investigated as far as I know, but efforts have shifted to figuring out what’s killing off the Fae.
Anyway, Wren was part of that black market ring.
Her parents had sold her off in exchange for their own freedom. She was discovered during a raid.”
“By you?”
He nodded. “We’d been given a tip on a holding house, and the Cadre was sent to look into it.
We ended up having to infiltrate an entire auction.
The Fae were being put up to purchase for Source purposes.
I had to bid on her to keep up appearances until we had adequate proof of everything.
When all was said and done, we rescued thirteen Fae that day.
Everyone else had someone. Either with their family or at least a sibling or cousin, but she—” He cleared his throat, taking a drink of his ale.
“She had no one,” Kailia finished.
He nodded. “I offered her the money I’d used to bid on her.
She refused, too shaken by the whole thing, so instead, I offered her protection.
I didn’t want her pressured to be a Source for anyone else, and I think she would have been.
Being alone is dangerous for a Fae. I proposed the Source bond solely as a means to free her from that danger.
It wasn’t supposed to be anything more. I never intended to ever draw from her, but if she had the title, others would leave her alone.
Long story short, we ended up in a battle another night nearly a year later with the same black market ring.
I had to use a lot of magic and was wounded.
She insisted I draw from her, and that was how it was discovered. ”
“How were you wounded? You can shift into a dragon, and you have dragon fire. There are few powers stronger than dragon fire,” she mused, and he didn’t miss the way her words rolled into one another as she drained her second mug of ale. He also didn’t miss when she ordered another.
“Maybe we should go back to the castle,” Razik ventured.
She waved him off. “Cethin’s busy anyway.”
“No one enjoys pissing off Cethin more than I do, but the queen getting drunk in a tavern by the docks isn’t good for anyone, Lia.”
“I’m not drunk,” she admonished with a glare. “Besides, if he wanted a say in how I spend my days, he should try spending some of them with me.”
“I should have guessed your pissy mood stemmed from Cethin. Mine usually do too,” he said, drinking the last of his ale.
He waved off the server when he approached holding Kailia’s third mug. He didn’t need more ale if the queen was determined to drink her weight today. She was impulsive enough without alcohol. When she said nothing in response, he figured he could at least try to reason with her.
“There’s a lot going on right now, especially with more Fae discovered dead last week so close to Aimonway,” Razik offered.
“I’m aware,” she ground out, picking up her mug.
“And you think he should forgo those responsibilities to spend time with you?” he asked flatly.
“I’m not a child, Razik,” she retorted. “I understand his duties and responsibilities, but if he bothered to see my usefulness beyond my arrows, I could help.”
“I doubt he’s intentionally excluding you, Lia. He’s protecting you.” When she scoffed, he added, “And you are queen in title only. Why would he put such a burden on you? You are usually far more logical than this.”
“I know,” she muttered. “I’m just…frustrated about several things. Anyway, you never answered how you were wounded if dragon fire is all but unstoppable.”
“You answered your own question. It’s powerful and nearly unbeatable, but it’s not invincible.”
She leaned forward, peering at him. The smoke in her eyes was slower, languid. The alcohol impacting her magic as much as it was affecting her physical body. “Cethin’s magic isn’t affected.”
“I’m aware,” he deadpanned.
“He’s stronger than you.”
“In terms of magic, yes.”
She nodded. “Is he the only thing stronger than you in Avonleya?”
He narrowed his eyes. “That’s a very specific question, Lia.”
“Do you think if one of those phantom things stabbed you with their sword, it would affect you?”
Her words were definitely slurring together now.
“I don’t think I want to find out, but considering dragon fire kills them, I’m going to guess it wouldn’t kill me,” he answered.
She hummed. “That’s plausible. So…just Cethin then?”
He sighed. “The creatures of old are formidable opponents for dragons.”
She hummed again. “That makes sense. Cethin said they were difficult to control until he was born. That would mean your uncle wouldn’t have been able to do so.” She took a drink before she added, “Cethin said they’ve been quieter lately.”
“They have been. It’s why Tybalt has called a few of the Cadre back to Aimonway to help with the Fae deaths,” Razik replied, shaking his head when the server made his round.
She did not need another drink, but this was probably the best tavern for her to do this in when he really thought about it.
People came here because they wanted to go unnoticed.
No one was going to draw attention to themselves by bringing attention to the queen.
“Right,” she murmured. Elbows planted on the table, she rested her chin in her palms. “Do you miss it? The Cadre, I mean.”
“Sometimes,” he answered. “I still train in the mornings, but it’s not the same.”
“Yeah,” she mused. “I miss it sometimes too.”
“Miss what? Training?”
She nodded. “Among other things.”
“You can train whenever you want. You know that right?” he asked.
“Maybe,” she hummed. “But it’d probably give away too many secrets.”
He huffed in amusement as he stood, extending a hand for her. “Let’s get you back before Cethin comes looking and discovers you here.”
“He did try to make me promise there would be no more tavern brawls,” she said, slipping her fingers into his hand without so much as a flinch.
“And you said…?” Razik asked, keeping her steady as she got to her feet.
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” she answered. “Just like him.”
Razik wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but he’d leave that between them.
He Traveled them back to the castle, where Kailia promptly fell asleep on the sofa.
There had to be more to her mood and demeanor today than simply Cethin.
Then again, maybe not. Cethin could put him in a foul mood and make him want to drink simply by speaking.
He settled into an armchair, pulling a book from a pocket realm to research more and try to figure out her power. There was something he was missing in all of this, and it was driving him mad because he knew once he figured it out, it was going to be obvious.
An hour later, there was a burst of magic, and Razik plucked a note from it. He skimmed it once before incinerating it with black flames.
Bram wanted to talk to him about Wren.