The trick with Rian is, he’ll always do what’s best for himself. But if you can hitch yourself to his goal, then you can benefit from his self-preservation instinct.
The lantern flickers steadily over his wide eyes, hungry to drink in everything I have to say. And damn, if a part of this doesn’t feel good. To be like this again. Even on opposite sides of the bars.
I’ve…missed him.
Fuck me, but it’s true.
“So that’s it,” I say, letting out a heavy sigh. “Vale sent us here to win the throne and prepare Astagnon for the gods’ arrival.”
“That’sit?” Rian throws his hands in the air. “What about Sabine? You left out the part where she’s a fucking goddess!”
“I told you how it worked. Vale killed her human body, which awakened the goddess inside.”
“I’m not talking about the fuckinglogistics. What does it mean for us—for the world—that she’s one of those self-interested tyrants?”
The muscles along my back bristle. “Sabine is different.”
“Do you hear yourself? She’s fae. She isn’t different at all.”
“No.” My voice hardens enough to make Rian flinch. He falls silent, waiting, watching. When we were boys, I never raised my voice to him. Always let him take the lead. But things have changed. “No, she’s still Sabine and always will be. She cares about humanity. She wants to fight for us.”
Rian busies himself brushing dust off the bars, waiting until I’ve stopped pacing.
He lifts an eyebrow. “You didn’t grow up attending Red Church classes every Sunday, and it shows. Immortal Solene is the guardian of nature. That sounds positively bucolic, doesn’t it? And sure, that includes dandelions and butterflies, but it’s also fuckinglava. It’s earthquakes. It’s monoceroses.”
“It’s humans, too,” I snap.
He laughs, shaking his head. “You know how humans fit into nature? We destroy it.”
I open my mouth to argue but snap it closed again. All I can think of is the murals in Drahallen Hall’s basement. The ones painted over to hide the truth.
What Rian says…it hits too close to home.
My head jerks at a sound—footsteps on the floor beneath us. A jangling key ring.
We don’t have long before we’ll have company.
I grab a bar, leaning in. “What did your Red Church classes tell you about the fall of Calisyrune?”
Rian frowns, surprised by the question. “The ancient city? What do you want to know?”
“Why it fell.”
Rian’s mouth curves in a slow smile as he gently taps the bruise on his temple. “Ah. That information isn’t shared with children in Red Church classes, but the Valveres have a lot of access to old information. I’ll tell you all about what happened to Calisyrune—over a bottle of whisky.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. It’s just so fuckingRian. His life is on the line, the kingdom is in jeopardy, but he holds out for a drink.
“Let me guess,” Rian says. “Sabine blinks those sweet doe eyes and swears she’s loyal to humanity, then blasts someone with brimfire the next moment?”
The words drip with smugness—but they also ring with truth.
I wince.
Basten, just walk away. Let Rian rot. The friendship is over.
But I find myself saying, “I can keep her under control.” There’s a forcefulness to my voice that pushes a little too hard.
Rian stares at me for the space of several breaths, then slowly shakes his head. He chuckles, which rolls into a full-bodied laugh, stoking my ire, until he doubles over in coughs.
