“I hate him,” proclaimed Killian. “I hate him so much. I wish I could just punch his stupid, smug little face in. Just once. Once is all I’m asking for. I’d be content with once.”
Kade laughed as he walked next to Killian. “I think I like him.”
There was no way. “What?”
“I don’t know. He feels real. More real than the king at least.”
They hadn’t talked about it, their run in with Fyar. Neither of them wanting to breach the subject and risk a fight.
Kade had been right when he said that Killian would have been against him coming to Ingara. He would have told Kade to stay safe on the farm in Turell. His life may be boring there, but it was the lesser of two evils.
Killian had never wanted palace life for Kade. It wasn’t anything to wish for. While prestigious and luxurious, it was a life with no privacy or rest, always putting other’s lives above your own. The reward of money or power made it worth it for some, but for others it was a hollow life. Empty and cold. Hedidn’t want this world to dim Kade’s light. He didn’t want Kade to become hollow.
It was almost a relief that Hokda had said no. Kade could find a master in the city, an honest and respectable teacher who would nurture Kade’s talent. Close, but still separate from it all.
“You have strange taste,” said Killian simply.
Kade laughed, a shy flush rising on his cheeks when he stole a glance at Killian. “Yeah. I suppose I do.”
They were walking the length of the palace. Killian guiding them through the most deserted areas, wanting to distract Kade from the blow he received that morning. Through the inner balconies overlooking the tiled mosaics of exotic creatures of legend, sneaking through Hokda’s greenhouses—not lingering long just in case the healer or his minions popped up somewhere—and then back around the eastern side of the palace by the stables and pastures.
The labyrinth groaned ominously in the distance.
“What is it?” Kade breathed, not able to take his eyes off it.
“A protector.” Killian wiggled his fingers at Kade. “A guardian spirit.”
“What’s it protecting?”
“The heart of Netyere.”
“The heart of Netyere,” Kade repeated flatly. He rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “What is it really?”
Killian only smiled.
The Guard’s Keep in the center of the palace cut the bridged section between the two courtyards of the palace in half. It belonged entirely to the Guard and was forbidden to any other palace staff. The lower levels, filled with tables and chairs was where the Guard landed to rest in between patrols and while onbreak. It was where they ate and talked and forged bonds to last lifetimes. Killian’s office sat at the top of the tower, overlooking it all.
There were a few documents Loran had called Killian to sign off on before the day ended. Then, he could take the night to begin compiling a list of different—better—masters for Kade to apprentice under. There were already a few he had in mind, healers that Hokda occasionally called upon when he wanted to discuss a treatment plan or an experiment, healers considered to be his peers.
The Keep went dead silent when the two of them walked in. Every head in the room turned at the same time, and like the bunch of gossips they were, Killian’s subordinates stared openly, wanting to catch a glimpse of their captain’s elusive, so-called brother. Blinking owlishly at them, the guards grinned.
There weren’t even a dozen guards in the Keep, most were on duty or already on the training grounds, waiting for Loran to run their drills. The rest, sitting here, were the stragglers. They would leave when Loran left, and not a minute before.
Killian was thankful that they were at leastattemptingto stay calm. He didn’t want them to spook Kade.
Kade gave an embarrassed dip of his head in when Killian cut his losses and introduced him, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears.
The Guard nodded their greeting. A few brave souls stepped forward, introducing themselves and making light conversation. They soon had Kade laughing along with them.
Smiling at the scene before him, Killian stepped away, comfortable leaving Kade in the welcoming arms of his men.
“He looks nothing like you,” Loran stated, appearing atKillian’s shoulder and handing over the documents he’d brought down from his office.
“We don’t share blood. We have different parents.”
Loran made a small noise of surprise.
Killian bent over a nearby table in the corner, away from the commotion, and skimmed through what Loran delivered. Dotting his i’s and crossing his t’s. He trusted his men to be able to read Kade enough to know when to back off. Though he had to admit, he liked that they seemed to be getting along. He was getting soft.
