Upon exiting her rooms, Zaria was surprised to find Adam outside her door. He was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes heavy. Everything about him radiated ease. Spotting Zaria, he straightened. “Evening. What do you think you’re doing?”
There was a note of teasing in his voice, and it gave her enough confidence to be honest. “I know Kane is still in his office. I’d like to see him.”
“Then I’ll escort you,” Adam said. He appeared almost pleased to be granted a task.
“It’s only down the hall.”
“Humor me. My legs are stiff as hell.”
Zaria shrugged, and together they made their way down the corridor. “Where’s Elijah?”
“Asleep. We take turns guarding your door.”
She shot him a sidelong glance. “Since when?”
Adam looked a little sheepish, running a hand over his bristly head. “The whole time,” he admitted. “Kane wanted you to believe Elijah was your only guard. He’s always there when you go to bed, and then again first thing in the morning. Apparently they didn’t think my presence would be enough of a deterrent. As you may have noticed, Elijah’s more of a stickler than I am.”
“He does take his job seriously,” Zaria said, scowling as she digested this revelation. It made sense, though; both boys needed to sleep at some point.
Adam’s grin was fond. “Yes. Indeed he does.”
“You love him,” she understood suddenly, then winced, wondering why she’d felt the need to voice it aloud. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Adam chuckled. “Are you surprised?”
“You’re just so different from each other.”
“We are,” he agreed. “And what does that matter?”
Zaria wasn’t sure how to answer. By now they had drawn up outside Kane’s office, and she shot Adam what she hoped was an appreciative look. “I’m happy for you. Thanks for the escort.”
He winked, then rapped his fist against the door. “My pleasure. If Durante is angry about this, by the way, I’m blaming you.”
Zaria nodded absently, testing the handle. “It’s open.”
“It usually is when he’s in there. Good luck.”
She thought about asking why luck would be required, but Adam was already walking away. Pursing her lips, she entered the office, then blinked as light assaulted her vision. A nearly spent candle burned atop the desk, and in its glow she could make out the balcony beyond. She tiptoed over to the glass door. It, too, was partially ajar, and she gripped the frame with one clammy hand.
Kane stood on the balcony with his elbows braced on the railing, gazing out over the rooftops. His posture was relaxed, his head bowed, although not in a way that suggested ease. He looked like a conquered king surveying his ruined kingdom. His white shirt was damp, the top few buttons undone, sleeves shoved up to his elbows. The cool breeze ruffled his hair as Zaria studied the curve of his spine. She wondered if she ought to leave. To retreat to her rooms once more, safe from the incisive snare of his gaze.
It was a fool’s hope, of course, that he wasn’t already aware of her. She knew as his shoulders tensed that she was caught.
“Zaria.” He spoke without turning, her name a low rasp. He was sober this time—she could tell by the timbre of his voice.
I’ll go, she should have replied.I can tell you’re not in a mood to talk.
Instead she said, “Kane.”
Only then did he deign to look at her, something in the air between them pulling taut. “Why are you awake?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
He didn’t answer right away, so she stepped out onto the balcony. Rain spattered her face and bare arms, but Zaria didn’t pay it any mind. She heard Kane’s breaths quiet as she approached. It was as if she’d snatched the air from his lungs by mere virtue of her presence.
When he finally spoke, the words were bitter. “It’s my birthday. I’m nineteen.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know how to respond. It was painfully clear that he didn’t want her well-wishes. “If I didn’t know better, I would say it feels prudent to offer my condolences.”
