The king tensed, eyes darting back to the female. “Why aren’t you eating?”
“I’m not here to eat. You have my arrow. I’m here to retrieve it,” she retorted.
Razik stood, having finished his own breakfast. He needed to get down to the training arenas for the Cadre meeting.
But before he left, he grabbed a raspberry muffin from the tray and made his way down the table. Stopping beside her, he set the baked good on her plate and leaned in. She leaned away, her stare hard.
“He’s easier to deal with when you have food in your stomach,” Razik said in a low voice. He saw Cethin stiffen in his periphery, and it made him move in even closer. “If you need company after you deal with him, let me know.”
Then he straightened, swiping up another muffin for himself as he left the dining room without a backward glance. But he knew Cethin was glaring at him as he went, and it was the perfect way to start his day.
“Valric’s death was noble and honorable,” Tybalt said, looking each of the Cadre members in the eye as he spoke. “But death still hurts, even when met with honor.”
Everyone’s expressions were somber. Bram was the last member they’d welcomed into the Cadre, and not because of a death. Xavier had served in the Cadre for nearly three centuries, but his wife had been with child. With a growing family, he’d asked to be relieved of the duty. They’d all agreed without question, and a festival had been held in his honor.
“You are elite and the best this kingdom has to offer,” Tybalt went on. “The best thisrealmhas to offer, and when we lose one to the After, a piece of our souls goes with them because we serve as one. We live as one.”
“And we die as one,” they all echoed in melancholy.
Usually that chant was bellowed during training or when they entered a battle. Usually that call rang with pride and conviction, stirring up confidence and adrenaline.
Today, it only stirred memories.
“It will be hard to welcome a new member into the fold,” Tybalt continued. “But this unit operates best with six members, and Valric’s vacancy must be filled. Beyond that, Valric’s death leaves an additional opening. As you are all aware, Valric was the second-in-command of the Cadre.”
Everyone tried to hide it, but they all sat up straighter at the words. Because yes, they were mourning a lost brethren, but Valric had held the Second-in-Command position for decades. This is what Razik wanted. Everyone assumed it would be him when they’d discussed it over ale in the taverns various nights, the alcohol consumed in remembrance of Valric loosening tongues.
“I won’t make a decision on the new second-in-command for a few weeks,” Tybalt said, gaze once again sweeping over them. “But we do have a new Cadre member to welcome. Get him in shape and teach him how we do things. You are only as strong as your weakest member. Remember that. Draven!”
Tybalt summoned the male with a growl only a dragon could make, and the newest member of the Cadre entered the room. Shoulders back and chin high, he put on a good performance, but they could all sense his trepidation. None of them smiled. None of them greeted him.
Razik sat back and crossed his arms, surveying their newest member. Black hair cropped close to his skull. Light green eyes. Golden skin. The muscles and build expected of someone who’d served in the Avonleyan forces for the last several decades of his life.
They all knew who he was. All knew he’d been in the running for the vacancy.
He just wasn’t Valric, and they’d all need a little time to get past that fact.
Jarek was the first to get up and shake the male’s hand, followed by Fallon and the rest of them. These next weeks would be long and grueling for everyone. Draven would need to learn their tells and signals. When you’d worked as a team for so long, that was all natural and came easily. Adding someone new fucked it up, and they all knew it would take time to get back to that place.
But time was a luxury they didn’t have with the uptick in attacks this last year.
As they filed out, Tybalt called out for Razik to wait a moment, and he sighed because he already knew where this was going to go.
Or he thought he did.
Which is why he was caught off guard when his uncle said, “It was reported to me there was someone new in the castle this morning.”
Razik’s brow creased. “The female Cethin brought back from the Esbat Festival? Since when does who he’s fucking concern any of us?”
Tybalt sent him a flat look, and Razik stared back.
“It should concernyou,” Tybalt finally said.
And there it was. This is where he’d assumed this conversation was going.
“No,” Razik countered. “It should concern his personal guards. Maybe the advisory council. It should concern the castle sentinels, and maybe her family, depending on whether he plucked her off the streets willingly?—”
“Razik, he is still your sovereign,” Tybalt interjected in warning. “You yourself have made comments about what wouldbefall this kingdom if something happens to him. This isn’t about Cethin?—”
