Chapter 29
Aiden
And even though you’ve given enough,
your mercy, patience and light,
My duty is done. She is awake and being tended to and a Pyreling has been sent to my uncle, he shall be arriving any minute.
Hopefully, the Captain is bathing himself in bleach and burning those filthy clothes.
For now, I pass the time in Cook’s kitchen, stealing vegetables I have been explicitly told not to touch while explaining a weapon modification Eira only half listens to. Then—
“She looks really bad, Aid. I think you should introduce yourself.”
“Rhory, I’ve been telling him this, but he’s being selfish,” Eira adds, brown eyes cutting into me. She flicks my arm.
“Selfish? Me? That is rather harsh.” I lean back, dodging another flick and snag a vegetable off the counter, “If I am selfish, it is because I am hungry. Service here takes forever.”
“See!” Eira shakes her pretty head, “You know your uncle requested those specifically, and you’re taking them for yourself. Why? Because you’re selfish.”
I chuckle. “Do I get to defend myself, or—”
“I’m being serious. About your sister, not the vegetables.
” Eira cuts me off, pulling a frown from my lips.
I do not like it when she is short with me.
Something uncomfortable snakes beneath my ribs at the loss of her smile.
“You only visited her because I made you. You wouldn’t have gone otherwise.
She’s been tortured for months. She has no one.
She’s alone down here in a weird, new place. She lost her parents, too, you know.”
“Indeed,” I grumble. She did it to herself. And Eira is incorrect this time, I would have attended to her, because I am supposed to. Duty is my main priority, Eira’s grip on me it’s only rival.
“So, what’s the problem?” She presses. “Aren’t you happy to have family?”
“I have family.” My voice is edged with defence. I draw a slow breath, forcing the air through lungs that feel too tight. Even here, where I am safest, I must be careful. The truest version of me has always frightened people, and I cannot lose the few who stay.
“Yes,” Eira says, “But more family. How can you not want a sister?”
“I have you.”
Cook suddenly finds himself very busy rummaging through a shelf on the far side of the kitchen.
Eira’s eyebrows pinch together, and my eyes dart across her face scanning her expression for clarification.
“I have you.” I repeat quietly beneath my breath, testing the sentence again for whatever sharp edge I seem to have missed.
“Indeed,” she clips. Is she mocking me? “You know what I mean, Aiden. Someone else who could—”
“What I mean to say is,” my collar is suffocating me, so I try to loosen it. “I am fulfilled with what I have currently. I do not need anyone new in my life.”
Eira opens her mouth to respond, but I keep going, desperate to steer us toward solid ground.
Towards the truth that, everyone leaves eventually.
I do not understand why I should volunteer myself for the grief before it arrives.
Why would anyone willingly invite such suffering?
“Besides, she shall more than likely die in this ritual. So, why get attached?” My reason for breathing stares at me, her jaw slack.
Even Cook hesitates, studying me with his eyebrows raised before resuming his slicing.
Panic threatens to set in when I catch their glances towards one another.
“When did you become so cruel?” Eira’s disappointment is evident. “Because this side of you is very unattractive.”
“Well, is it not a good thing I am not attempting to attract anyone?” I reply, forcing a small smile, hoping that sticking with honesty might repair whatever misstep I have made.
I cock my head to the side as Eira seems to mirror my smile, then, with a small shake of her head, she turns her attention to something behind me.
“Nyk!”
Oh, for the sake of all that is good. Cook shoots me a knowing look through the hanging herbs, shaking his head in a silent, I told you so. I scowl at him briefly, but then quickly remove the expression from my face. Perhaps a joke?
“Lieutenant Nykholas, come to break into some more living quarters already?”
“Maybe later, my Prince.” He stares into Eira’s eyes whilst bowing to me, barely.
“Cook… Eira,” he practically purrs her name.
Dragging it out in a way that makes my temples ache and my jaw flex.
Eira, however, bites her lip, smiling like a child seeing their favourite sweet.
She looked at me like that once, that same light in her eyes.
He extends a large, scarred hand to tuck a wisp of dark hair behind her ear.
The audacity to touch that which belongs to me is almost blinding.
“Looks like I didn’t pull all of your hair out last night after all.”
My stomach lurches. Breath is caught in my throat.
Food threatens to crawl out of my stomach.
I cannot be misunderstanding the innuendo, this is treason, surely?
I cut a sharp glance at Cook. Did he know of this?
But his wide eyes tell me even he is in the dark.
Eira’s giggle drags my eyes back. A hand braced on his bicep, she tiptoes, leaning into him before whispering something into his ear.
He stoops, strong hands clasped firmly behind his back, his face brushing dangerously close to hers as he mutters something in response.
The blood in my veins heats as if a fire is lit beneath me.
I am aware of their flirting, that Nykholas enjoys taunting me.
And of course, he would be taken with her; she is extraordinary.
But it is reciprocated? Physically. I clench my fists under the table, focusing on the pain of my nails biting into my palms instead of the growing pressure in my heart.
Nykholas’s smile turns sultry, his eyes lingering on her before he finally says what he came here to say.
“The King has arrived and requests your presence in the throne room.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” The words taste bitter and take everything I have.
I offer him a hollow smile, and he nods, countering me with a playful one before exiting the kitchen.
Eira hesitates, glancing back at me. She looks almost apologetic, or perhaps I imagine it because she trails after Nykholas without another word.
Cook does not even bother looking from the pot he stirs, “I can’t even feel sorry for you, Aid. You did it to yourself.”
He is right. For the most part.