Oh, right. Brela. Always Brela.
This morning workout was desperately needed. And two more ice baths. Maybe another workout.
Boelyn had already been in the middle of his rant when Cason had walked outside and begun stretching. Mumbling something about sending half the guard on high alert about the missing assassins only to find them sleeping in the same bed. He sounded more pissed about the buckets of water they had rigged onto each of the doorways, dumping onto him as he tried to find them.
Imagining Brela howling with laughter at tricking Boelyn not once, not twice, butthree timeshelped calm the fire in his chest. And then sent it flaring again as he realized that he was once again having traitorous thoughts about a woman who should be his enemy.
Serill didn’t seem to care since he was currently doubled over in a fit of laughter, much to Boelyn’s continued annoyance.
“Serill, I’m going to make you run with weights if you don’t shut your trap,” Boelyn growled, running a hand through his wet hair. He spun to Cason, anger disappearing as he raised his eyebrow. “What isthat?”
“What is what?” Cason asked.
“You’re… smiling.”
Serill’s laughter rang again. Cason slapped his hand over his mouth after he was unable to force it into a frown. “Tell anyone and I’ll burn you alive.”
Boelyn threw up his hands in defeat. “What is wrong with you two? That woman is a trained assassin, not to mention a Veil cultist. She broke out of her cuffs, stole a knife to threaten the king, and is now traveling with you to Valisea. You should be terrified she’s going to kill you in your sleep.”
“If she wanted to kill us, she’d make sure we were awake for it,” Serill replied, wiping his eyes of tears. “Besides, if we have to travel to Valisea, we need her on our side. I’ve seen her in action, and I’d rather be her ally.” He shrugged. “Hells, I’ll just say it. Ilikeher. Things are finally interesting again.”
“She’s what I imagine Ryia in the flesh to be like,” Boelyn grumbled.
“Don’t tell her that to her face,” Cason said, rolling his eyes. “It’ll only encourage her.”
Serill snorted. “Says the man who has been flirting with her over a knife for days.”
Cason felt his cheeks burn, but he collected himself with a glare and pointed out of the gates. “You better start running, Prince. I’m not holding back today.”
The prince’s eyes widened in fear, laughter gone as he flinched and took off in a sprint.
* * *
Serill gaveup after four and a half miles, nearly collapsing in the shade of a tree from the early morning sun. He still had enough energy to throw an obscene gesture toward Boelyn who had teased him, saying the prince deserved it for laughing at him earlier.
Cason stopped only long enough to drink and strip his shirt before he and Boelyn continued on their path, relishing the cool ocean breeze on his skin. Severina always provided a good balance of power for him. He still felt the sun god’s presence, but the additional cooling power of Alinora’s moon-blessed kingdom was a stronger pull.
It helped that in Severina, everyone knew Cason’s magic, so he wasn’t afraid to reveal his ink. They still might be hesitant about the tattoos over his chest, but at least they didn’t cower in fear. Seeing all of his power written on his body had just become expected, so no one paid him any more attention than usual.
He wondered what Brela would think about the ink. She still hadn’t seen the full force of any of his power. Still hadn’t seen him draw a real flame to his hand. She claimed she wasn’t afraid of magic, but would that change when she saw what he was hiding?
Probably not, that inner fire seemed to say. In fact, it almost sparked in excitement at how she might react. The things she might say. The looks she might give him. Or maybe that was nervousness?
Four hells, when was the last time he was nervous about what a woman thought of him? Years. Maybe even back to his time at the sun temple with Era, but even that was before he’d shown his full magic potential.
“You’re uncharacteristically talkative today,” Boelyn said over his shoulder, panting only slightly.
Cason blinked, pulling his attention away from the heavily inked back of his friend. “I haven’t spoken since we started running,” he replied, not breathing hard. He’d even upped their pace, but still that fire didn’t seem to die down.
“I meant with your facial expressions,” his friend said, dropping back to run next to him. “You’ve been less… glare-y.”
“Because I cracked one smile?”
“You’ve never cracked a smile like the one you had on earlier, and I know it’s because you were thinking about that woman,” Boelyn said, nudging him.
He grumbled. “It’s complicated.”
“No shit,” Boelyn replied as they turned another corner of the castle grounds. “She must have done one hell of a rescue with the Wraturo for you—famous shadow-cultist hater—to trust her after she tried to kill you.”
