Chapter Twelve
FOR DAYS, KILLIAN had poured over any information he could collect on Fayren: his habits, his interests, and his relationships. There was nothing out of the ordinary.
Fayren lived a truly mundane and boring life.
He’d looked into what Hokda had told him previously, going over statements and records from all of Hokda’s apprentices. None held anything that would rouse suspicion.
Loran sighed and slid down on the sofa in Killian’s office, the document he was holding held up above his head, his feet kicked up and propped against the wall.
They’d found nothing—nothing—that could tie Fayren’s actions back to anyone in the palace. His friends and fellow kitchen staff claimed they’d noticed nothing out of the ordinary, Fayren did as Fayren always had.
Useless.
The sun sank quickly in the sky, night came earlier with the change of the season. Netyere would never truly get cold, neither in autumn nor winter as they sat on the horizon, stuck in a perpetual cycle of a long spring and then a long summer.
Warm as it was, evening patrols were often accompanied by drizzling rain or a light mist in the air. Killian never minded it, he’d always enjoyed the rain.
A knock sounded at the door and Dantel stepped through. He was twitching, a bead of sweat on his brow. “Captain. Lieutenant.”
Killian put down his scroll. “Dantel, this is unexpected.” Then, “What’s wrong with you?”
Dantel cleared his throat and spoke slowly. “You have a visitor. At the palace gates. Said it’s urgent.”
“I don’t take visitors, you know that. Send them away.”
“I tried, but…” Dantel’s face pinched. “But…”
“But what? Spit it out.”
“He said his name is Kade. And that you’d know him because he’s your…brother.”
A scroll clattered to the floor. Loran scrambled upright, his mouth open in shock. “Brother? You have a brother?”
Forcing himself to not react, Killian stayed seated. He fixed his face into one of cool indifference. “You’re sure that’s what he said?”
Dantel nodded. “Yes.”
Killian swallowed. “Lead the way.”
Stopping at the door, Killian pushed against Loran’s chest, blocking the lieutenant from squeezing past. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m coming with you, obviously. There’s no way I’m going to miss this. I didn’t even know you had a brother! Since when have you had a brother?”
“Since he was born,” deadpanned Killian. “No. No, I need you to stay here. If it really is my brother, I’ll need you to take my duties for the night.” He ignored the way Loran groaned. “I may need some time, something could be wrong.”
“I could help!”
Killian lowered his voice. “This is how you can help me. I’ll introduce you to him later.”
Giving, Loran grouched, “Fine.”
Killian’s arms were crossed tight across his chest as he stared Kade down like a prisoner.
”I sold the vineyard,” Kade confessed quietly. He twisted his hands together. “The house. It’s gone. It’s all gone.”
Killian took a deep shuddering breath, and closed his eyes.
When Killian had seen it was Kade waiting for him just outside the palace gates, he’d been panicked. Terrified that something was wrong, that Kade had been hurt or scammed or swindled. That Sila or Roi had gone after him. Instead, he’d found Kade beaming, bright and happy and safe.
Kade wore a dark traveling cloak over simple but quality fabrics. Nicer than anything Killian had seen him wear on the farm.
To keep away from the curious eyes and ears of the Guard and palace staff, Killian had brought Kade to his room in the west wing.
Kade had gaped at the extravagance of it. His eyes wide as he took in the expanse that was the royal estate and the palace and Killian’s quarters—so different than what they’d had in Turell. It was a beast, overwhelming in the best and worst ways.
Too keyed up to indulge Kade in a tour, Killian had jumped into questioning.
“Why the fuck would you do a stupid thing like that?”
Kade swallowed. ”I couldn’t be there anymore.”
“So you thought—what? That you’d blow up your life, just like that? Sell everything and show up here—no letter, no warning. Surprise! What the hell, Kade?”
Kade cringed. “I know. I know it was stupid. I’m sorry. But I knew what you’d say if I told you. You’d try to talk me out of it.”
“And I still will! Who bought the vineyard? Sila? Go back and tell him you changed your mind.”
“No!”
“Kade, I swear to—”
“I won’t! I don’t want to be alone anymore. There’s nothing for me in Turell. Father’s dead. Mother’s dead. You’re gone. I’m alone. I just want us to be together again. I want to be here. With you.”
The words hung heavy in the air.
Killian softened. He closed the few steps that separated them.
Gripping Kade by the back of the neck, Killian dropped his forehead against the younger elf’s. He felt Kade’s melt into him. “Well, you’re here now. We’ll figure something out.”
Pulling Kade into a real hug, Killian ran a soothing hand over the back of Kade’s head, his auburn locks were silky smooth.
“So,” Killian started after a moment, a teasing lit in his voice. “What was your big plan after showing up on my doorstep one random afternoon? Or was that the extent of it?”
Kade groaned and shook his head where it was planted in Killian’s neck. “I have an idea.”
“Oh, good.” Relieved that Kade had at least attempted to use that big brain of his, Killian pulled away. He kept an arm wrapped around Kade’s shoulder, their heads still bent close together. “Let’s hear it then.”
Kade’s face pinched. “Well.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. Stalling. Then, “Healer Hokda.”
“…That’s not an idea.”
“I’d heard Healer Hokda is taking on apprentices this year. His first in a decade and I— Well. Do you think I have a chance?”
Oh. Oh no.
“You’re about six months too late,” Killian said. “Hokda, he—the apprentices are already chosen.”
“I know that. I do, but you know him, right? Healer Hokda. You work closely together.”
Killian grimaced, not liking where this was going.
Kade continued, eyes so bright, so hopeful. He had no idea his dreams were about to be crushed. “If you could just make the introduction, I’m sure I could convince him to take me on. I’m confident in my abilities.”
The younger elf’s smile wavered as the silence stretched.
Licking his lips, Killian spoke slowly, choosing each word carefully. “Hokda and I…we don’t exactly see eye to eye on, well, anything. It’d actually be more likely that he ban you completely if I’m the one who introduces you. I think it’d be better if you pretend not to know me at all.”
Kade blinked at him. “Seriously?”
Killian could only shrug. It was a well known fact around the palace that the captain and the healer—the king’s two closest companions—had no love lost between them.
Kade clicked his teeth together, total concentration on his face. After a moment, he said, “Introduce me anyway. I’ll make up the difference. People like me.”
Oh, how optimistic. “Sure. Normal people like you. Hokda doesn’t like anybody.
”Locked on Kade’s amber eyes, Killian read the pure stubborn pigheadedness and knew he wouldn’t change his mind.
He sighed. “Alright. Fine. Twist my arm. I’ll introduce you.
” He pointed his finger in Kade’s face. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Hokda is…something else. Fucking psychotic. Just a mean little bitch.”
Kade’s jaw dropped. He looked shocked, as if he had never imagined what Hokda’s actual personality might be. Most don’t.
With that settled, they agreed to approach Hokda—cautiously—the following morning.
“Take the bed,” Killian said, steering Kade through the arched separation.
“Killi, I can’t take your bed—”
Killian rolled his eyes. “My sofa is at least as comfortable as any bed in the city. They spare no expense on comfort here.” He waggled his eyebrows, but then pulled up short. “But bathe first. I don’t want you to stain those sheets with your dirt. They’re silk.”
Kade glowered at him.
Killian’s face went flat at the sight of the figure coming towards them from across the courtyard. He looked around for somewhere to run. Somewhere to escape from what was coming.
He’d been taking Kade to the kitchens for breakfast before they went off in search of Hokda, but it seems as though their plans were about to be interrupted.
Kade had yet to notice their approaching guest. He leaned over the edge of the fountain, one hand outstretched as he fingered the shoots of a lily pad, completely engrossed. He made a choking noise of complaint when Killian wrenched him back by a grip on the back of his tunic.
“Be polite,” Killian hissed urgently. “Polite. I mean it, Kade. Now isn’t the time to be a brat.”
Mouth dropping open in offense, Kade meant to argue but he quieted quickly as Killian turned, put a fist over his heart and bowed. “Your Majesty.”
There was a sharp intake of breath before Kade followed suit. Stuttering out a nervous, “Y-Your Majesty.”
Fyar smiled, a small thing. It didn’t reach his eyes. His hands were folded into his long sleeves, the trail of his robes dragged across the courtyard he had no reason to be in.
This was an ambush. A trap. The first move in a chess match.
Straight-backed and severe, Fyar looked every inch the royal he was. His white hair artfully pulled back in winding plaits of braids, blank eyes gleaming in the morning light as he stared them down, the air around him seeming to spark with the promise of lightning.
Killian grimaced, he should’ve expected this: Fyar putting himself purposefully in their path in order to meet the intruder in his palace, not taking kindly to unknowns in his home.
Loran had no doubt announced Kade’s arrival during his reports, and Fyar, not one to sit around and wait, had taken their meeting into his own hands. In this case, by simply forcing them to face him when they least expected it.
Killian glared at Fyar over Kade’s shoulder as he made their introductions.
Beside him, Kade looked sick. Pale and clammy.
Fyar was the picture of poise.
“I’d heard you had a guest arrive,” said Fyar, tone ever polite and distant though Killian heard the scolding in it. “You should have told me you were hosting you brother, Killian. I would have invited you both for tea and dessert.”
“A generous thought.” Killian shifted closer to Kade, pressing their shoulders together. “And I would have, but it was a surprise for me, too.”
“Is that so?” Fyar turned to Kade, who went tense under the king’s heavy gaze. “What prompted your journey to Ingara so suddenly? I do hope nothing’s wrong in Turell.”
Kade’s throat worked. “No, nothing’s wrong, Your Majesty. I simply wanted a change of pace.”
“A change of pace,” Fyar repeated slowly. “I see. I guess we’re all tempted to chase a new adventure from time to time. Do you intend to stay long in the capital?”
“As long as I’m able.”
Fyar’s raised an eyebrow. “A permanent move, then? Killian mentioned you were a healer in your village. Your magic feels strong. I’m sure any master in the city would be happy to take on such a promising candidate.”
Kade’s hand twitched like he wanted to cover himself from Fyar’s prying eyes. Then, he declared, “I intend to apprentice under Healer Hokda, if he will have me. Killi—Killian is going to make the introduction.”
Killian let out a long, defeated sigh.
That was enough to form a crack in Fyar’s mask.
His eyes blew wide and a short laugh burst from his lips unexpectedly.
“Apologies,” he said, putting a hand to his lips.
It did nothing to hide the peal of laughter that followed.
“Well, if Killian is going to make the introduction, I suppose that’s that. ”
“Oh, shut up.” Killian’s lips twitched. “He could say yes.”
Eyes flickering to Killian, Fyar grinned. “And elves fly. I would suggest keeping your options open. Ingara has many great healers.”
Kade scowled.
Killian chuckled. “We’ll show you.”
“Sure,” said Fyar dryly. He paused. “I would have a moment with you, Captain. Enjoy your stay in Ingara, Kade del Torau.”
It was a clear dismissal.
“Do you remember where the kitchens are?” Killian asked. When Kade nodded, he continued, “I’ll meet you there in a moment. I won’t be long.”
Hesitant, Kade went, pausing only to look over his shoulder before passing through the stone archways and out of sight.
“He’s not what I expected,” Fyar remarked. “From the way you spoke of him, I was sure the sun would shine out of his ass.”
Killian shrugged. “He was nervous. It’s not every day you’re ambushed by your king.”
“It wasn’t an ambush—”
“Really? Then why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“An ambush.”
Fyar huffed. “Stop being so dramatic. I wanted to see who he is, given no time to hide.”
“Not everyone needs to hide behind a mask.” Killian’s heart beat faster. Whatever he said, Fyar’s acceptance and approval meant a lot to him. “And your verdict?”
A terribly knowing look twinkled in Fyar’s eyes. “He’s strong. Committed. Optimistic. Though he lacks finesse and foresight.”
Groaning, Killian put his head in his hands. “What am I going to do? He sold the vineyard.”
“Committed.”
“Stubborn, more like it. Stupid and stubborn and…” Killian trailed off. “Hokda will never say yes.”
A peal of unsympathetic laughter. “No, he won’t. He’ll curse you for even the thought. Did you tell your brother that?”
“Obviously. He thinks he can convince him. I think I’m sending myself to the slaughter.”
More laughter. Bastard.
From the very moment Kade had voiced his thought, Killian had known the possibility of his insane idea coming to fruition was nil. None. Zero. Hokda would never let anyone, anyone—least of all Killian—disrespect him or his craft by asking to jump the line.
The Royal Healer’s apprentices were hand picked, chosen from the best prospective healers in the kingdom through a series of intense and lengthy tests meant to cull the weak.
Once they are finished with their training—ten long grueling years under Hokda’s watchful eye—the prestige follows and floats them into positions unthinkable to others.
The seven apprentices that Hokda appointed earned their spots over thousands.
“Killian—”
Onto the next problem. “I know.” Killian deflated. “If and when Hokda says no, Kade can’t stay. I know.”
“It’s nothing personal.”
No unauthorized personnel were allowed on the premises. A simple and reasonable law.
Killian smiled grimly. “I know that, too.”