“I never wanted to be a healer. I was about seventeen when I decided I wouldn’t follow in their footsteps. I heard stories of warriors from various kingdoms who went to the Northern Training Camps to train, but one kingdom in particular dominated the camps: Daramveer.” His brows raise. “But, another kingdom had an even worse reputation: Andorwood.”
He pauses, and I do as I was told, moving my head slightly.
“Just checking,” he continues, as he works behind me. “See, Briar. I think we’re more alike than you realize. I also don’t like being told what to do, and when you’re young, the idea of joining an army of notorious rebels didn’t sound scary; it sounded amazing. Thrilling. Challenging. Sounds like something you’d like.”
I move my head, processing his words.
“Everything about my life in Eddris was the opposite, so a stupid seventeen-year-old boy chased his dream and later ended up at the training camp around the same time your brother arrived.”
“Hmm,” I whisper.
“I had a bad taste in my mouth about Barlowe Blackbyrne, just from what I had heard. He was cocky, a rising star, and already had the perfect life set up for him—the future I wanted.”
He pauses, not to let me respond but to gather his thoughts. Even through the pain, fury rises in my chest at his words about Barlowe. It’s his fault he’s dead.
“I was a nobody. The son of two healers from Eddris was disowned for following his dreams. No royal status, nothing.” He sighs. “I was just Larkin Spiridon, and I had a bad fucking attitude.”
“Worse…” I cough, pain throbbing down my back, “than now?”
“You think you dislike me now?” He chuckles. “You should have met twenty-one-year-old me.”
The sides of my lips faintly curl.
Larkin pats at the wound and draws a healing Rigil near his workstation. “I met Barlowe shortly after his arrival, and Briar, I couldn’t have been more wrong about him. Your brother was an amazing person. He didn’t care about all the things I assumed he would. We became fast friends, and I spent almost three years of my life at the Northern Training Camp with him.”
I attempt to turn to glance at him, but he keeps me still.
“When the opportunity arose for me to travel to Andorwood, Barlowe did everything he could to ensure I was on the ship that day. Barlowe helped create the future I had always dreamed of. Upon my arrival in Andorwood, he had persuaded your father to send word that someone of significance was coming and that I was to be appointed a top Commander of the Andorwood army.”
“That sounds like Barlowe,” I whisper.
“He’s the reason I’m here, living my dreams. Well, I can’t say this very moment is my dream, but you get the point,” Larkin says, and pauses. “After everything he did, I’m the reason he’s dead.”
I fully turn this time, and tears fall from his dark eyes.
I wanted him to admit what he had done, but now that I’m hearing it, it doesn’t give me any satisfaction. I feel heartbroken for him.
“Hold still,” Larkin pleads, before he continues his story. “We kept in touch over the years as often as we could, and when he reached out wanting Arxbayne, I was hesitant. But, he was persistent—almost desperate. He had done so much for me, and I caved. I wanted to help him because of how much he helped me.”
I lazily blink up at him, my mouth slightly parted.
“He told me he needed it to save his sister. Barlowe had a plan, and he was determined to do everything in his power to ensure nothing happened to you. He risked everything to get that poison. When I heard about his passing and the circumstances, I couldn’t bear it. I knew his blood was on my hands, and I still struggle with that guilt every single day.” He pauses as the emotions crash into him. “Every day it haunts me.”
“Larkin,” I whisper.
“Then you arrived unexpectedly. Briar Blackbyrne, sister to someone I cared deeply for. I couldn’t even bear to look at you.Even your voice triggered me, because I hadn’t come to terms with what happened.” His eyes find mine. “I’ve been rude to you, but I believe your presence is a sign from the Gods that it’s time I come to terms with my actions.”
The room begins to spin, and I squint my eyes closed for a second to refocus.
He pauses for a second and watches me. “I won’t let anything happen to you, not out of duty to Andorwood or fear of Silas and what he would do to me, but because I owe everything to Barlowe. And I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to pay him back."
My heart shatters, but pain quickly overwhelms all my functions. I feel myself drifting, unable to keep my eyes open any longer.
“Briar?” Larkin leans forward. “Can you hear me? I need you to nod.”
The pain in my shoulder and his confession are too much. My vision blurs, and the candlelight around us turns into muted flickers in the distance. My heart rate increases, then slows at such a rapid pace that I can’t take a good breath. My breathing turns into frantic gasps, and comfortable vibrations move around me. I hear Larkin curse, but I can’t see him or move. I completely relax into the numbness.
“Don’t you fucking die!”
