“You want to go to the shore with me?” At least he’d managed to string a few words together and form an actual sentence. “Why? What’s in it for you?”
“A little peace?” Syrus shrugged, seemingly unbothered by Eiri’s suspicion. “Do you want to go?”
The temptation was too great. Whatever ulterior motives Syrus had, they were outweighed by Eiri’s desperation to get out of this fucking room.
“Fine. I’m not wearing the clothes your butler left for me, though,” he warned. Even as much as he wanted out, he would not greet the ocean dressed like a Vaetrean.
“I didn’t expect you to. Get ready and I’ll let my guards know we’re leaving. Meet me in the hall when you’re ready.”
With that, Syrus left, but unlike Kien, he didn’t close the door fully behind him. He left it cracked open, keeping the ward inactive and allowing Eiri to follow him out. He knew something had to be going on, that there was no way Syrus was doing this out of the goodness of his heart, but the call to the ocean was too strong to ignore. He would keep his guard up when they got to the shoreline, but right now, Eiri only cared about one thing: getting out of this prison.
Chapter 15
Syrus
InvitingEiri to come to the beach had been a completely impulsive decision, one Syrus could only hope he wouldn’t regret later. His original plan to find Xan and do a little groveling in exchange for his cousin’s aid had gotten sidetracked when he’d passed Kien C’Marlo in the hallway. The man was a master of stoicism, but there’d been more tension than usual in the set of his shoulders and the grim line of his mouth. Despite what Eiri and his family clearly believed, Syrus wasn’t a complete idiot. He knew Kien was much more than an ambassador. It was likely his secondary responsibility, with guarding Eiri taking priority.
For him to be walking away from Syrus’ room looking like that, something must have happened with Eiri. Given his new husband’s temper, that something was likely an argument, and if Kien was that angry, Eiri was likely more so. It may be one of the few opportunities to get Eiri alone, without his guard dog present, and Syrus immediately altered his plans to take advantage. Perhaps it wasn’t the most sporting move, but if it gave him a way to slip past Eiri’s walls, it would be worth it in the end.
Unfortunately, those walls were high and sturdy at the moment. The two of them sat on opposite sides of a discrete carriage and neither had spoken a single word since they’d left the bedroom. He’d have preferred to walk, but Eiri stood out and word of their little excursion would reach his mother’s ears before they even reached the water. While he had no doubt she’d find out before too long, hopefully they could have a few uninterrupted hours. The vague plans he’d made last night would never succeed if his family were breathing down their necks the entire time.
While Eiri resolutely stared out the window, refusing to look at him, Syrus took the opportunity to study his husband. As expected, he was in full Canjiri garb. Instead of sensible trousers, his pants flowed around his legs with every step he took. That alone was eye-catching, but the pale yellow color was a marked difference from the more sedate palette he was used to. The soft blue tunic he wore covered his arms, at least, and fell just past his hips, the cuffs and hem embroidered with silvery thread to create a pattern that resembled waves. The cut and color were decidedly feminine, at least here in Vaetreas, yet Eiri seemed completely at ease.
Given what Syrus remembered of his wedding ceremony and the outfit Eiri had worn, perhaps this was how Canjiri dressed when they weren’t raiding cities? The light colors complemented Eiri’s surprisingly fair skin and sun-bleached hair. He wondered if it would grow in dark, without the constant exposure to salt water and sunlight. It was difficult to imagine Eiri with dark hair.
“Trying to decide how you’re going to kill me?”
Eiri’s voice pulled him out of his contemplation and he realized Eiri was watching him now, instead of the city. His eyes were unusually light for his people, a pretty hazel, but the angular shape was pure Canjiri.
“I’m not trying to kill you. Believe it or not, I’m trying to do something nice.”
“All things considered, I’m sure you understand why I don’t believe that.” Eiri held up his arms and Syrus winced when the sleeves fell back, revealing the dark bruises circling Eiri’s wrists.
“To be fair, you left your mark on me, too,” he reminded him, turning his shoulder to show the arm Eiri had cut open. His sleeve covered the gash on his forearm, but it itched where it was scabbing over.
“I’m not going to apologize for it.”
“I would likely die of shock if you did.”
“I’m sorry I stabbed you, Syrus.”
The completely deadpan delivery, without a flicker of emotion, caught him completely off guard, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Nice try, but it looks like I’m going to survive this time.”
“It was worth a shot,” Eiri muttered. He returned to staring out the window, but the deep frown lines around his mouth eased. It wasn’t much, but if joking about Syrus’ death was what it took to get them to some sort of agreement, he’d do it.
They lapsed into silence, but it wasn’t as hostile as before. Syrus let it be. They were nearly to their destination, and he didn’t want to risk sparking a fight and ruining what little ground he’d gained.
The carriage came to a halt just a few minutes later, and Syrus waited for a knock from the driver before opening the door and sliding out. He held it open for Eiri, unsurprised at the suspicious look that earned him. That look fell away the moment Eiri turned and saw where they were, though.
“We’ll be fine here. I’ll come find you when we’re ready,” he murmured to the driver, a woman named Marcelle. She arched an eyebrow and glanced at Eiri as if she expected him to leap at her.
“I can stay, sir. Just in case.”
There was a curl of something dark in her voice, wariness and disdain curdled together. Eiri didn’t respond, but Syrus noticed the subtle shift in his body language. His back straightened and his shoulders came up, all the tension he’d let fall in the carriage returning in spades, undone by one comment.
“Go,” he snapped, glaring at Marcelle when she opened her mouth to protest again. “Return to the palace. We will find our own way home. Now,” he added sharply when she didn’t immediately obey. She still hesitated, but she couldn’t refuse his order and pulled away, leaving him alone on the beach with Eiri.
“Why did you send her away? Unless you keep a backup carriage nearby, we’ll have to walk back,” Eiri said without turning around.
