“Not here,” he said, abruptly pushing back his chair and abandoning his nearly finished stew. He picked up his bread and led her out of the kitchens, stopping briefly to thank the cook.
Taking large bites of his bread, he led her through the moonlight brightened corridors until they were standing just outside his rooms. He took a seat on the low stone wall that ran outside his door and opened out onto the courtyard below, glad to take the weight off his bad leg.
“What's wrong?” Maya asked him.
“Where do I start?” Luka asked her sardonically, and she frowned at him.
Well, what harm would it do if he let loose some of the tension in his chest? If he spoke some of what lay on him so heavily?
Luka took a breath and shook his head. “It's this damned war,” he spat, pinching the bridge of his nose as he jiggled his good leg, unable to keep still. “Uncle Yarek thinks the army isn't doing enough, he keeps making more and more outrageous demands—”
He huffed out a laugh.
“And Father—"
Luka broke off, unable to look at Maya as he crumbled the bread he still held in his hand.
Maya prompted him gently. “And the Tsar…?”
“All he cares about is grabbing as much as he can. Whether it’s power, land, money—or women.” Luka laughed. “His brother has plunged the country into war, but all he’s thinking about is his next bride. Queen numberthree, as if two weren’t enough.”
He trailed off, and she said nothing while the silence drew out between them.
“All around us, people are dying,” he went on in a whisper. “Men I have trained with go out onto the front lines and do not return. WhileYarek,” Luka snarled, slamming his free hand to the stone beneath him in a renewal of his anger, “is only looking for a sign of weakness to replace me on the War Council with one of his own toadies.”
He turned to face her now, and she clutched at his arm, her face pale in the moonlight.
“Surely he wouldn't—after all, you are the King's son—"
“Yes, but I have no true power there, and everyone knows it. I’m ‘too young, too naive’. To some of the lords on the War Council, all my objections to these senseless, endless skirmishes are the rantings of an ignorant youth.” Luka shook his head. “All I have is my regiment. All I can do I is make sure they’re taken care of. That they make it back home in one piece.”
“But there must be something we can do,” she cried, her grip tightening in her emotion.
Luka noticed her use of the word ‘we’, and felt a surge of affection and gratitude for her. She blinked when he smiled gently down at her.
“Well, whatever it may be, we shall not find it tonight,” he said ruefully. “I have kept you up long enough.”
It was a clear dismissal, and he watched as hurt flashed across her features before Maya blinked and deliberately put on a smile.
The sight struck him, and he would’ve cursed aloud at his contrariness if he was alone. He pushed her away, but when she was hurt by it, he wanted to apologize. To make her feel better.
That flash of hurt he’d seen in her eyes meant that he wouldn’t be able to let her go without telling her how much it meant to him that she had reached out. Even though he pushed her away, it still felt good to be wanted. To know that his friend cared for him, despite his boorishness.
“Thank you for tonight, Maya,” he said softly, drawing her hand away from his arm and up to his lips.
She looked stunned, and her hand trembled against his lips as he looked down into her wide dark eyes.
“I didn't really do anything,” she protested breathlessly. “All I did was listen.”
“It was enough,” he replied, gently letting her hand go.
He noticed that she clenched the hand into a fist as she let it fall to her side, and then she blinked twice before saying in her normal tones, “Well, then, I hope to see you tomorrow. I would like to talk to you about my plans.”
Plans? She was dangling the idea to whet his curiosity, and he knew she had done it on purpose. He almost laughed at how well she knew him.
“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.” When he nodded, Maya smiled.
“Good night,” she said brightly, before he could respond, and he felt a momentary sense of disappointment at the loss of her wide-eyed expression and breathless voice.
