“Yes, and you’re familiar with the king’s justice, aren’t you?” Rio asked.
The fae let go of Rhay’s collar. “You’re a lucky bastard. But know that if it wasn’t for your little friendship, I would have turned you into a barely breathing pile of flesh.”
Rhay gave him a taunting smile before adjusting his outfit. “Guess we’ll see each other another time, love.” He winked at the lilac-haired fae. Her fiancé immediately tensed up, his hands curled up into fists.
“Come on, Nix.” Rio dragged him away. Rhay stole an abandoned bottle of vodka on his way out and started drinking from it. Caligo’s door closed behind them, muffling the next song.
In silence, Rhay and Rio walked into the bustling streets of Chrysa. Everyone seemed to be going out tonight, smiles on their faces. Would fae unhappy with their ruler still party every night? A door appeared in his mind, accompanied by painful screams. Rhay took a swig of the stolen alcohol, walking in zig-zag.
“Let’s go somewhere else. I know a club where fae fight with almandine weapons,” Rhay said, trying to lead Rio in the direction of the club. The alcohol caught up to him as he turned around too fast, stumbling on his feet. His mind turned blurry, a mess of repressed thoughts.
Suddenly, he wasn’t at all sure what the fuck he was doing. Why did he keep wasting away his time? Why didn’t he finallyact?Playing mind games with Karwyn didn’t count, it only doomed him more. Lost, Rhay slid down to the ground in the alley. He stared into space, the sky as dark as his thoughts, while he took a sip of vodka.
Rio sat down next to him and gently pulled the bottle away. “I think you’ve had enough.”
“Yes,” Rhay whispered. “I’ve had enough for a long time now.”
Putting a calming hand on Rhay’s shoulder, Rio asked in a gentle tone, “Is this about the attack in Quarnian? I’m sorry you had to go through that. Do they know who was behind it?”
“No one’s left to talk. There’s only the pain of the ones who have been left behind.”
The image of his mother flashed through his mind. He remembered perfectly well when his father had told him his mother had been killed by thieves. Rhay never knew how empty you could feel until that fateful day. Unable to cry, he had stood next to her burning body at the funeral, his eyes completely dry and his heart hollowed by her absence.
“Did you lose someone in the attack?” Rio asked, still careful in his tone.
“My mother.” Rio’s forehead creased. “Not in this attack. Years ago, when I was barely a child.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine the pain you felt.”
Rhay sighed. “It never left. Her absence still haunts me. But her face is slowly disappearing from my mind. I try to hold on to it as much as I can.”
Rio took Rhay’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “I’m sure she would be proud of you.”
Rhay laughed sadly. “Don’t lie to me. No mother would want a drunk, irresponsible, party boy for a son. They would want someone like you. Smart, reliable, kind-hearted.” Something flickered in Rio’s emerald eyes. “No, guys like me and Karwyn, we don’t make our mothers proud. That’s why their absence is a blessing of sorts. They’re not here to see us become monsters.”
Yanking back the vodka, Rhay gulped down a quarter of it. Rio put his hand on Rhay’s shoulder. “I don’t thinkyou’re a monster.”
With his free hand, Rhay pushed a strand of wavy black hair from Rio’s face. “You’re good, Rio, too good for me. You shouldn’t get caught up in my drama, you deserve better.” Rhay pulled back his hand. “I shouldn’t have left you like that at the ball.”I did it to protect you.His breath caught when he stared into Rio’s vibrant dark green eyes.
“What if I don’t wantbetter?” Rio whispered, his breath caressing Rhay’s face as he inched closer, his hand still lingering on Rhay’s shoulder. They stared at each other for what seemed both the longest and shortest second.
“Nix, I…” Rio mumbled, his eyes so open, so vulnerable. His first instinct had been right, Rhay wasn’t going to drag him down too.
“I should get going. Guess I’ll have to fight another day.” Rhay stood up quickly, almost falling over in the process.
Although he hadn’t fought, Rhay felt bruised all over—his heart and mind torn to pieces.
* * *
Looking for peace of mind that was long gone, Rhay returned to the place that used to be his haven. His head was pounding as if a truth he didn’t want to see was clawing its way to his conscience. Limbs heavy and his eyes half-closed, Rhay should be heading for his bed, but something beckoned him up the stairs to the fifth floor that was mostly empty.
It had been years since Rhay had taken this familiar path. In his drunken state, his shrinking shadow reminded him of his childhood. It looked like he had become the same age as the first time he and Karwyn had come up here. That was when they had found the little nook under the stairs that had become their secret spot. Blocked by a high shelf on one side and the stone wall on the other, a tiny opening under the stairs led into the small space. A perfect hideaway.
Squeezing into the nook, the room was plunged into darkness, much like Rhay’s memory. Searching for the little spelled lamp in the corner, Rhay was surprised to see it was still in the same spot. The flickering light made it all feel like a long-forgotten dream.
Letting himself fall on the beat-up mattress on the wooden floor, Rhay looked around at the knick knacks they had collected over the years. Badly drawn paintings of tattoos Rhay had insisted he wanted but had never made permanent. Karwyn’s notebooks filled with ideas about his reign that he seemed to have forgotten… Stuck under a dusty blanket, Rhay spied old, unused bandages—for the times Karwyn had returned with more than just annoyance at his father’s lessons.
“What are you doing here?” A voice halted Rhay’s thoughts. He raised his head to face Karwyn standing in the narrow opening.
