She nodded, smiling sadly. “You have my word.” Then she went inside, closing the door behind her.
Sean sat down, and without saying anything, poured me a glass of water, and placed it in my hand. I didn’t want to drink it, but I was thirsty. So I did.
We sat in silence, the sky growing darker and darker with each passing minute. He lit the torches on either end of the balustrade. Then he heaped together a plate of food, one that seemed to hold one of everything. He slid it across the table to me, before picking up the whisky. Two glasses were filled amoment later, the wind blowing softly with an unusually cold gust.
“This is your home?” I said suddenly, needing to break the silence. Needing to discuss something other than Rhyan.
Anything that wasn’t currently shattering my world.
Sean nodded. “Of course, why?”
“The way we came here,” I said. “Why did we have to go through that maze of houses first?”
“Well, there was the curfew,” he said. “Soturi were everywhere and watching. You couldn’t be seen.”
“No, I understand that part. But the pattern, the homes you entered.” I gestured to the house next door. “They were ready for you—like they knew you were coming. And you knew where you were going. You didn’t falter once. Like you’ve done that before.”
“I have done that before. Many times.” He settled back into his chair. “It’s a route that was created around the time I moved here. Every house you entered yesterday—every yard you went through—they belong to a former Glemarian.”
I recalled the small hints of Glemaria I’d seen. Gryphons, the scent of pine, like someone had captured the smell of Glemaria in a fragrance. Or maybe they all used the same soap—like Rhyan meticulously did. I could see it all clearly. Their houses were all filled with trinkets of home—their true home. Reminders of the North.
“I didn’t know there were so many of you here.” Though I should have—especially having met the Northern Imperator. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I really only knew of you and Rhyan.”
Sean nodded. “We try to stay pretty quiet—out of trouble. We’re not exactly welcome. But there’s more of us than you think. I mean, it’s not like we could escape all Imperators by coming here. In some ways the South was more volatile for us. Kormac knew we could be used against Devon. Luckily, he was occupied with other things. But yes, there are plenty more thanjust the two—” He coughed, his jaw tensed. “Of us.” Sean took a sip of his whisky.
“I never knew, how did you come to live in Bamaria?”
“The same way as everyone else. Forced to leave. Forced out of the North by Devon Hart.” He gritted his teeth. “Some of us just pissed him off. Others—like Rhyan—he couldn’t control. Some, like me, he considered his political enemies.”
In the distance a seraphim squawked, the call growing with intensity as the bird flew overhead. Sean stilled, his mouth tight. I wondered if he missed home. Missed the sounds of gryphons in the sky. Like Rhyan used to.
He turned the glass in his hand, his fingers tapping against the drink before he continued.
“The route was something that began back then.”
“The route?” I asked. “You mean stopping at Cal and Marisol’s?”
“Not just that. You can’t escape Devon’s ire just by leaving Glemaria. Too many other countries fear retribution from him as Imperator. And he rewards the return of those he believes have wronged him very handsomely. So the route was formed. Friends, family, Kavim, anyone that opposed Devon were all part of it. It’s more than you know. He’s not well liked in the North. There’s even some other groups with different missions entirely, oppositions and rebellions focused on the South, particularly against Ka Kormac that will also help us out and provide shelter when needed. The policies of both Imperators are deeply unpopular. But there’s particular ire with Devon’s responses to the akadim attacks over the years.”
“He lets them in,” I said. “He ignores the threat.”
Sean nodded. “The more afraid people are, the more fearful he can make the population, the more he can force them to rely on him. To look to his leadership. Not ask questions. But there are plenty—particularly amongst the educated— who see thetruth. Who take the time to see through his lies, his corruption.” He took a breath. “Though, the closer you are to him, the harder he can make it to see. He’s good at maintaining his image with the Council. Or forcing it, I suspect with blood oaths, blood contracts. But there’s cracks. Cracks I took advantage of whenever I could.”
He took another sip. “I was always on Devon’s bad side, even when we were kids. Even though I was younger, it never stopped me from standing up to him. Keeping him from bullying the other students when we were at the Academy. When we were adults, I wouldn’t stay quiet about his policies. His treatment of his wife. And especially his treatment of Rhyan,” his voice broke, “I was always after him for the way he treated Rhyan.” Sean stopped talking, his fingers clenched into a fist. He looked past me, his gaze distant, his eyes dark green as night darkened around us. “I tried to take him away. More than once. I even made arrangements with his mother, with Bowen, his bodyguard. But I could never quite pull it off. Never get close enough to him to make it happen—not since Devon realized what I was up to. Every time I failed to get Rhyan out of his grasp, to get a better life for him, to bring him here—Devon made it harder.” Sean shook his head, staring out at the black horizon beyond the trees. All that remained of the sun now was gone.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice hushed. Things could have been different for Rhyan. Better. He could have come here sooner—not forsworn. Just as a student. Not been abused, not tortured. We could have come together ages ago, not been forbidden from being together. A whole other life for him flashed before my eyes. And just as quickly, that dream died.
“You wouldn’t have known about it,” Sean said. “Because Rhyan didn’t even know—his father made sure of it. One day, Devon had had enough of me. I’d—well, I’d been drinking, andforgot myself. I just remember screaming at him, telling him every horrible thing about him. What an utter shit of a man he turned out to be. What a monstrous sorry excuse for a father.
“He accused me of all kinds of crap, wanting his Seat, his wife, wishing I was Rhyan’s father. I had no designs on his power, or Lady Shakina, but he was right about the latter. If Rhyan could have been my son …” He swallowed roughly, his throat bobbing, his jaw tightening.
“I was exiled on the spot,” Sean continued. “He said I’d be named forsworn if I didn’t leave—and he said I’d never see Rhyan again if I didn’t. He forced a blood oath on me, then soturi escorted me home, searched my belongings as I packed, and followed me to the border—followed me until I hit Numeria.” He bit his lip, shaking his head at the memory. “Honestly, for him, that was merciful. But that’s why Rhyan never knew. Never knew that my coming here hadn’t been my choice. He never knew that I’d have done anything to stay in the North, anything to be there for him. To save him. I was fighting tooth and nail. But Devon,” he let out a shaky breath, “well, you’ve met him.”
“I have,” I said bitterly.
Sean made a noise low in his throat. “Eventually, I found my people here. And I fell in love. Branwyn.” His lips lifted as he said her name. “But as wonderful as Bamaria was, I always knew that I had to be ready. I knew that a new Emperor could be anointed at any time. A new Imperator for the region. A new Arkasva for the country. One who was not as kind as your father. Or your mother. Laws that once protected us could be rewritten—former enemies of the state pardoned, and former friends named as criminals. Especially while under a cruel and corrupt ruler like Kormac. So we Northerners banded together here. And we practiced—hiding, evading, like we did at home. We knew we needed to be ready. Ready for this day. For yesterday. Ready for whatever else comes next. Because the truth is, when it comes tothe idea of justice and freedom,” he sighed, “the fight never ends. It just pauses from time to time.”
I nodded, and more silence fell between us. Sean refilled his glass of whisky. The glass he’d poured for me was still full on the table.
