His brother frowned as he stepped away from the recruit to approach Leander. “What are you doing here? I’m busy and don’t have time to scoop you out of whatevershit-infested hole you have managed to find yourself stuck in.”
“You’ll want to hear this.”
“I’m busy,” Venser repeated.
“No!” Leander’s hysterical tone had Venser, who had turned away, halt and swivel on the balls of his feet, his expression stormy. “I—please, I just have to?—”
“My lord!” a voice called from a distance, and Leander turned, just as Venser did, to see a slave running across the training ground. The slave ducked and dodged weapons being flung this way and that by inexperienced recruits, though most had now stopped to see what all the fuss was about.
“What is it?” Venser asked as he took a moment to smooth down his clothing.
“My—Commander, my deepest apologies for interrupting,” the slave swallowed as he turned to look at Leander. “Myracle, you have been summoned by the king.”
Venser blinked and spoke before Leander could even open his mouth. “What? At this hour?”
The slave nodded dumbly, evidently not comfortable with his task. If Leander was nervous at the summons before, he was doubly ill at ease now. Something was afoot, and he didn’t think it was anything good.
He looked up to meet Venser’s gaze and found he had been staring at him the whole time. His brother raised a hand and waved it to dismiss the slave, who bowed and retreated quicker than Leander thought possible for a human. He might as well have evaporated into thin air.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” Venser asked softly.
Leander considered, hesitated.
Yes, he knew. It was why he had come here in the first place. Venser needed to know the truth, so that something could be done about it.
He had been ruminating over what had happened today with Wester Haldon, the conversation they had shared, the crime Leander had committed in the name of establishing the truth of Haldon’s words. He wished that he didn’t have the faintest clue why he would be summoned to present himself before the king at such a late hour.
Venser continued to survey the demigod, as if examining him for any trace of deceitfulness.
He was the God of Lies, after all, and prone to such things. Defiant amber eyes stared back into the lordling’s blue ones. “Yes.” Leander finally whispered his admission, and he gave Venser unrestricted access to the memory of what had happened that afternoon.
Venser’s expression darkened as burning blue eyes stared into amber ones, watching the memory unfold in his own mind’s eye.
Leander couldn’t tell if the expression of displeasure was due to what Leander had done, or what he had discovered. Venser didn’t give any indication either way, but Leander felt small all the same, and he knew he had done wrong, but he had done so in the name of protecting those he loved.
“Okay,” Venser finally uttered, nodding his head and indicated towards the training yard’s gate. “Let’s go and see if that’s what Caisa wants from you, then.”
Leander gratefully nodded, feeling like the pair had reached an accord of sorts, a ceasefire to the animositytowards each other which had developed over the last few months.
They did not delay, taking a direct route to Caisa’s palace, from there directed by guards to the great hall, where they had been told King Caisa waited.
Before they entered, Venser paused in his steps and raised a hand to place on Leander’s shoulder before giving it a single, fortifying squeeze.
Leander entered first, then Venser, a good few steps behind. The soldier veered off to the side while the fallen demigod tracked his way through the centre of the room, the crowd of lords and ladies already parted for his convenience.
It transpired that half the court had turned out for this, for Leander doubted so many noblemen and women had been milling about at this time in the evening. Leander was immediately reminded of another such experience of being completely exposed among the throngs of peers who had turned out to watch his utter disgrace.
Keeping his eyes trained forward, Leander did not look to see who was present, though he desperately wanted to know if he had any allies (besides Venser) in the large crowd.
The king, obviously, was waiting for him at the far end of the hall. Sat on his throne, beady eyes watched Leander’s advance. Queen Melanie, resplendent in a pale blue gown, was also present. Finally, the ruling couple’s children stood there, each one a pace behind a parent.
Leander met the gaze of Lucien, who did not smile at the demigod as he usually might. That didn’t bode well.Lucien did, however, raise his chin just slightly, a silent signal to Leander, telling him he had a friend in the room.
Reaching the dais, Leander halted and leant forward into a respectful bow. “My king,” he spoke loud enough for his voice to carry through the great hall, reaching every occupant. “I am sorry to have kept you waiting.”
Caisa raised his fingers off the armrest and Leander took that as permission for him to stop bowing. He straightened his back and looked the king in the eye, waiting.
“I have, this night, been told a tale that troubles me deeply, Leander.”
