This was a terrible fucking idea, but he’d claimed her as his. He wasn’t about to let her go now. He wasn’t sure he could, even if he wanted to.
He wasn’t surprised to find Tybalt there when he entered the dining room. He was, however, surprised to learn he’d sent Jarek and Fallon back to Aimonway, Wren returning with them.
Grabbing a bottle of ale from the icebox, he turned back to the male, bracing himself for wherever this conversation was about to go. Except his mind was already back on the female upstairs and the fact that tomorrow night, he’d be calling her wife. Something he’d fought so hard against for so long. Something that had been pushed on him for decades, only to be the one pushing it on someone else now. That was some twisted irony, but he supposed that was fitting given everything that had been happening this year.
“Where is Kailia?” Tybalt asked, seated at the table.
“Upstairs,” Cethin answered, pulling out the chair at the head of the table, the wooden legs scraping along the rug.
“You are both healed?” Tybalt asked, watching him.
Cethin sighed, sitting back in his chair and steepling his forefinger along his temple. His eyes flickered to Razik, seated across from the Commander. His face was apathetic and unreadable as always.
“There is no need for pleasantries, Tybalt,” Cethin said, picking up the ale and taking a drink.
“There’s always time for pleasantries,” Tybalt replied, settling back into his chair as well. “Sometimes I think we skip over them far too often. It’s damaging in many ways. Like skipping straight to a meal without the alcohol.”
Cethin huffed a small chuckle under his breath. “While I see your point, I think we can all agree the past several days have been intense.”
“All the more reason for pleasantries,” Tybalt said, lifting his glass of liquor in a cheers motion before taking a drink. Lowering the glass, his features morphed into something a little more serious. “Do you still plan on returning to Aimonway tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Cethin answered tightly, his grip on the ale bottle flexing.
“I’m sure you’re ready to leave,” Tybalt said too casually. “When was the last time you were here?”
Cethin dragged his eyes back to the male. “That’s not important.”
“I think it might be.”
Cethin’s gaze flicked to Razik again, and even if he wanted to have this conversation, which he didn’t, there was no way in fuck he was having it in front of that male.
“You don’t think being here has had any impact on your decisions these last few days?” Tybalt questioned, with a knowing look on his face and both hands wrapped around his liquor glass.
“No,” Cethin ground out. “I think being attacked numerous times in the last few months has impacted my decisions. I think being no closer to figuring out who or what is responsible for the Fae deaths these last decades has impacted my decisions.”
Tybalt nodded, and Cethin hated the look on his face. The male was easier to deal with when he was the Commander and Cethin was the king. The sympathy and understanding staring back at him now? This was not that. This was a male who’d known him his entire life. Who was family. Who had suffered as much as he had, just in different ways. But all he was doing was dragging up the past. Things no one could change. Things theyneeded to move on from, and the best way to move on was to accept change.
“I just think?—”
“I just think you’re trying to fill a role that you’re not meant to,” Cethin interjected harshly.
“Watch it, Sutara,” Razik growled, smoke unfurling with his exhale and black sparks flickering at his fingertips.
Cethin sneered at the male. “Everyone at this table knows the reason you’re still a part of any of this is because of your relations. That does not extend to you getting to interfere in anything else.”
“Cethin,” Tybalt tried. “Razik understands there have been mistakes made?—”
“Mistakes?” Cethin snarled.
“Mistakes thateveryoneis guilty of,” Tybalt continued. “The Cadre will be dealt with. I can assure you of that.”
“And Razik? Who is no longer part of the Cadre?” Cethin pushed, bringing his eyes back to the male.
Razik was tense, every muscle rigid. A muscle feathered in his jaw as he held his godsdamn tongue for once.
“Razik is still the best option for Kailia’s guard, especially considering the escalation of attacks,” Tybalt said. “If you set aside the grudges and think like the king you are, you’d agree.”
Cethin scoffed. “It’s because of the grudges and the animosity between us that I believe he’snotthe best option,” he countered. “How can that not affect his job when it requires us to be around each other constantly?”
