9. Tahlia

The corridors were oddly silent and Tahlia hurried through the passageways toward Marius’s chambers, which were situated above the great hall. A stone staircase wound its way up to the next floor of the keep and arrow slits set into the walls let in rectangles of the morning sunlight.

Marius’s oaken door boasted a scene that had become familiar. A view one could only see from a dragon’s back, the door’s carving depicted the keep, the two rings of stone walls that surrounded it, the main waterfall that Tahlia couldn’t recall the name of at the moment, and the jagged peaks that ran from Dragon Tail like a dragon’s spiny back.

Tahlia lifted the bronze knocker—formed to look like a dragon’s tooth—and let it bang down, heralding her arrival.

Marius answered quickly, swinging the door open. His eyes held the darkness of grief, but one corner of his mouth flicked upward as he looked at her. He stole her breath with his rough-edged good looks.

“Lady Tahlia.”

His voice was a balm, easing her busy mind and anxious heart.

He stepped back, and she entered his rooms. The scent of beeswax candles and Marius’s scent of cloves tickled Tahlia’s nose. He offered her a pillowed chair by a small round table that held a decanter of water. She took it and looked up at him.

“I am so sorry about Commander Gaius. He was very important to you.”

“To all of us.” He poured two cups of water and set one in front of her.

Oh, the way his words broke on the last syllable… Her heart ached for him. “But especially to you, I think.”

“It’s true.” He drank down a swallow and studied her face. “You already know me better than most, my lady.”

The sorrow in his eyes pressed against her pulse points, making it hard not to hang her head and weep with him.

Maybe she should, but…

“I have some uncomfortable information,” she said, keeping her tone even.

Frowning, he sat in the chair opposite hers. “I’m listening.”

“First off, I’m here as your, um, friend, not as your warrior.”

“Tahlia, just tell me.”

She cleared her throat, hoping this wasn’t an incredibly terrible mistake. “Earlier, when we last saw the commander…”

Marius’s gaze strayed to a window set high in the wall and his chest moved in a slow, deep breath. “Yes?” Grief shadowed his every small movement.

“I left my gladius at his front door, and when I returned to retrieve it, the door was unlocked.”

“But Commander Ophelia stated that it had been locked. Perhaps not yet?”

She held up a hand. “That’s not even the strange part. Ophelia was there. In the commander’s chambers.” Tahlia wasn’t ready to call Ophelia by her new title. “She didn’t see me, but I watched her leave a back room and head toward the living area with a knife in her hand.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “You’re certain?”

“I am.”

“His death could have been from natural causes, and it could have happened an hour or more after you saw her there.”

“What about the knife? And why didn’t she come forward when we were there? Also, you would think that Commander Gaius would have spoken more carefully if he’d known she was just in the other room and fully able to hear us talking about her.”

“Well, perhaps he thought it wasn’t a bad thing to bring up her struggles. Maybe she was ashamed of having her father protect her in the way he did, by asking us to refrain from courting.”

“And the knife?”

“Ophelia is never long without a blade to toy with. She is always flipping one or fiddling with the hilt of the Laqqaran dagger she wears at her belt.”

Tahlia hadn’t noticed that, but, of course, she had only met Ophelia fourteen days or so ago. Besides that, Tahlia’s focus had been on Marius more than anyone else.

“Will you question her about it?” she asked.

Marius stilled, his gaze going oddly vacant. His body appeared frozen; he wasn’t even breathing. Just sitting there, staring at nothing.

“Marius?”

No response. Her heart gave a heavy thump. She stood, leaning over the table, and knocked over her cup of water. Ignoring the pooling liquid, she reached for his hand.

He rose quickly and he blinked at her like he was just waking up.

What in the name of the Old Ones was happening here? “Marius, what is wrong? Are you feeling all right?”

“I…” He rubbed a hand over his face as water dripped from the table onto the wooden floorboards. “I think so, but…”

Tahlia came around the table to stand in front of him and reached for him again. His arm fell to his side and he looked at her wide-eyed.

“You’re scaring the hells out of me. What is going on?”

He stepped back, alarm glaring in his eyes. “I can’t. I don’t.” He gritted his teeth and a growl emanated from deep in his throat.

“Did I upset you? Is this about Gaius? Should I call a Healer?”

Breathing out slowly, he shut his eyes then opened them again. “Tahlia.” His voice was low and his words cracked here and there. “I need you to leave.”

“What? But?—”

“Go.”

The command hit her like a kick to the heart. “I will, of course, but you’re worrying me.”

“Now, Tahlia. Leave.” His lips tilted downward, and he fisted his hands at his sides. “I’m sorry.”

He was torn. But about what?

Tahlia held out her hands. “All right. I’m leaving. Just promise to send for me, or anyone, if you want to talk. It’s fine to show emotion even if you are High Captain, you know. But you want to be alone. I understand that.” She gave him what she hoped was a supportive smile.

She walked backward out of the chamber and he shut the door without another word.

In the corridor under the flickering sconces, she stared at the door’s carvings as her pulse pounded and her chest ached with the hurt of his rejection.

Was he trying to create distance between them emotionally to honor Gaius’s last request—to stay apart until Ophelia was steadier? But the way he’d gone so still… Was it grief? It could shake a person and turn them inside out, certainly. Still pondering, she turned and started down the winding stairs, heading for the quiet wooded spot just behind the keep. She needed to think.

That had to be it—grief had him acting mad. Understandable. Time would help, and she’d give him all the space he required. He deserved to be supported in whatever way helped best, and she’d make sure he received that support. Even if Ophelia was up to no good…