43. Chapter Forty-Three

If I wasn’t such a lightweight, I would’ve likely been making my way home with Sienna Makar right about now.

Unfortunately, the blend of whiskey, wine, and so much dancing had started to make the room spin and my stomach turn. I was zoning out, feeling somewhat dazed after the attractive woman had graciously offered to fetch me a glass of cold water. I wasn’t sober enough to feel the normal burn of embarrassment that might’ve eaten me alive, and thank the gods for that.

As I nibbled at a stray piece of bread from the table, I let my eyes wander aimlessly. I could have sworn that out of the corner of my eye I had seen the back of a head full of raven black hair, pulled into that messy half-bun that was a telltale sign of a certain guardsman. Or was that just wishful thinking? I had completely lost my train of thought halfway through whatever casual conversation I had been having.

“Looking for someone?” Sienna asked lightly, and Laurel raised a curious brow. I shook my head vigorously, immediately regretting the way that the rapid motion left me feeling dizzy and nauseated.

“Oh, gods,” I murmured, pressing a palm against my head.

From the other side of the room, I heard someone call out for Sia’s attention over the music. As she rose to go over and greet them, she lifted my chin gently with two slender fingers adorned in stacked silver rings.

“It was nice to meet you, Arken,” she said, that natural flirtatiousness slipping back into her voice. I flushed. “Keep drinking that water, gorgeous. I’ll see you around.”

As I started to sober up, my head throbbed ceaselessly, despite the several glasses of water I’d downed over the hour. It didn’t help that the second band playing wasn’t nearly as talented as the first, and every false chord plucked in an incorrect tune was starting to seriously grate against my nerves.

“Hey,” I called over to Laurel, who had successfully found herself deep in conversation with Hanna Cragg. “I think I’m going to head out.”

“Are you sure?” Laurel asked, biting her lip and looking conflicted. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

“Of course not, woman. I’m fine. You have a good night, though, alright? Don’t misbehave too much,” I laughed.

“No promises,” she replied with a grin. “Send a note when you get home safe, alright?”

“Sure, sure.”

For a short period of time when I’d first arrived in Sophrosyne, Laurel had been my only friend. Even though we didn’t share the same depth of connection that I had these days with Kieran, I was still so thankful to have her in my life—even though our time together was few and far between. She had been a much-needed example for me, a reminder that the noblesse and the privileged offspring of the Atlassian elite could still be good people.

This world needed more good people.

I shivered in the chill evening air as I stepped outside, my body temperature shocked by the frosted winds of late winter. Between the blazing fires and the heat of the dance floor, it had been toasty warm inside The Clover, and I hadn’t had the foresight to bring a sweater with me earlier.

I made my way over to the mouth of the alleyway behind the tavern, where an open bonfire was crackling, a handful of stray students smoking their rolled tobacco and wyldweed, talking amongst themselves. I warmed my hands by the fire, keeping to myself and letting my now-stiffening muscles rest for a few minutes before I made my way down the alley, heading back towards my apartment.

I was letting my mind wander aimlessly, only having made it a few yards in the direction of my apartment when I felt a prickle on the back of my neck. I got the distinct sensation that I was being followed, and the casual sound of strolling footsteps confirmed it.

Sighing, I turned to find a well-dressed, curly haired male with dark eyes smirking at me with a presumptuous grin. He looked somewhat familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. My head was still throbbing, and I was exhausted. Perhaps not entirely sober just yet.

“Arken, right?” he said, taking several steps closer to enter my personal space.

“Right,” I said slowly. “Apologies, but have we met?”

“Mm, if only,” he replied. “But I think you might know my sister, Hanna. I’m Anders. Anders Cragg.”

A blend of arrogance and pride slid off his lips alongside his words, and I watched his eyes rove over me shamelessly, lingering here and there with obvious impropriety.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” I said, dipping my head respectfully.

I was preparing to excuse myself when he took yet another step towards me, this time near enough that I could smell the booze on his breath and see the glassy look in his eyes. He was clearly still drunk.

“Oh, I’d like to make more than that with you,” he said, voice thick and heavy, on the cusp of slurring. “You and that Makar girl tonight, my gods. Hotter than all Hel. You headed to her place?”

“Err, no,” I replied, taking a measured step back to put some distance between us. “I’m actually headed home for the night, so if you don’t mind…”

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be like that, beautiful,” he said, stepping forward again, his eyes narrowing with visible irritation.

As the heir to the House of Clay—next in line after Hanna—I was sure this man often got his way, but I wasn’t even remotely interested. I didn’t exactly feel unsafe at the moment, but I was starting to get uncomfortable as Anders continued. I had a feeling that if I started walking away, he’d only follow.

“What’s wrong? Do you only go for the women? Oho, I could change your mind,” he said, his eyes darkening with desire. “Give me one round, pretty thing. Hel, Sienna can even join in.”

I resisted the urge to gag. Abyss fucking take me, this man was a pig.

The arrogant prick took another step forward, all but cornering me against the wall. As he reached out his arm to snake it around my waist, I was about ready to pull a punch… And then I felt him. Felt his Shadows before he’d even rounded the corner behind us.

“If you’d like to keep that hand of yours, Anders, I suggest you keep it to yourself,” a familiar voice purred in the darkness.

Cragg turned, and paled ever so slightly before straightening himself up again, chin held high.

“Ah. I didn’t realize this was the piece you were screwing tonight, Captain. No matter. You’ll be done with her soon enough, and I’ll get my turn, eh?”

“Allow me to clarify, Anders,” Kieran’s voice was sharp now, a threatening growl as he took several strides towards us both. “There is no end date on that warning. Touch her again, uninvited, and find out what happens.”

As I glanced over my shoulder, I could see Kieran had a firm grip on the hilt of one of his daggers, where his Shadows were beginning to coalesce.

Shit.

“Finally settling down then, Vistarii? Or are you just keeping this one around for seconds?” Anders hissed, before turning to me. “You really don’t want to know how many cunts and cocks your man has drowned in, darling. Wouldn’t you prefer something a tad… cleaner?”

His leering eyes were anything but clean.

“Besides, girlie—haven’t you heard? Vistarii here is into some fucked up shit.”

“She’s my friend, you asshole,” Kieran spat.

I could see his Shadows spread further, coiling around tight fists. He was trying to control himself. He didn’t want to scare me, but I knew full well what he was capable of.

“You don’t have any friends, Vistarii, you filthy fuckin—” Anders started, and Kieran took another menacing step forward, ready to lunge.

I stepped in front of him, inhaling sharply. I was acting on impulse now. On instinct. Instead of summoning my own arcana, I drew from his Shadows—and lo and behold, a blade of burning aether formed instantly in my palm, searing with unapologetic Light as I held it against Cragg’s throat.

“He does, actually. If you’re seeking out my favor, Anders, you sure as Hel won’t get it by insulting him,” I snarled before letting my face settle into the vapid, sweet smile he had probably hoped for earlier. “You can fuck off now. You absolute prick.”

The sleazy heir to the House of Clay scowled, but took several steps back.

“Shoulda known you’d be a crazy bitch, hangin’ round with the likes of him. Suit yourself, whore,” he spat, turning on his heel and slinking back off towards the tavern, leaving Kieran and I alone in the darkening alley.

I exhaled slowly, allowing the blade to dissipate, releasing the aether that still felt hot in my hands. When I turned back to Kieran, the look in his eyes was… intense.

“You… Fuck, you shouldn’t have done that, Arken,” he said quietly, running one hand through his hair.

He was right. It was inappropriate of me to have drawn from his aether like that without consent. I had been pissed off and had acted on impulse, remembering how the High Scholar had mentioned it was easier to summon an aetherblade if you drew from a parallel source.

I hadn’t even known if it was possible to draw upon someone else’s manifested arcana in the way I could pull from the natural elements, but Kieran’s Shadows had been easier to use in that moment.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Kier. I should have asked before I—”

He scoffed. “I didn’t mean that. I meant you shouldn’t have threatened Anders. Not for me. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. And the Hel do you mean, “not for you”? He was being a dick!”

Kieran sighed.

“By all means, Arken, defend yourself as you see fit, but you don’t need to defend me… Let me be the bad guy for both of us, okay? He won’t be quick to forgive that insult.”

“I don’t give a damn.”

“You should. He’s an heir.”

“He’s a prick.”

“Yes, that too. But still. You should probably be careful about who you threaten, especially with fuckin’ aetherblades.”

“Err, yeah. Again, I’m sorry about that,” I said awkwardly, wondering if he even knew what I had done in order to whip out that arcane blade so quickly.

“You can steal my aether any time, Little Conduit.”

Well, that answered that question. I looked away, blushing a bit. Why did that phrasing feel so intimate?

“It was actually pretty impressive. Lemme guess, you literally just learned that earlier today in your entry exams.”

I nodded shyly.

“Godsdamn, woman. Has anyone ever told you that you’re like… irritatingly talented? Most of the Conduits here can’t do that shit even half as fast. Not even the fourth and fifth year students.”

I did not need this stroke to my ego while there was still alcohol in my system.

“Can you?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

Kieran frowned. “Draw an aetherblade? Of course I can.”

“I mean, obviously. But could you draw it from my arcana?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I’ve never tried. I’ve never needed to.”

I summoned a small orb of Light in an open palm, offering it to him—but he just laughed.

“Oh, I don’t need to steal your aether to whip out a blade quickly, Little Conduit. I hate to break it to you, but I’m faster, too.”

I tilted my head as he sheathed his actual daggers back at his sides, shifting his weight into what seemed like a stance intended for combat.

He took a quick breath, and then within a fraction of a second, two flawless daggers—shadowed mirrors of the ones he had just put away—appeared in his hands. He gave me a cocky grin as my eyes widened.

“See?”

“Damn,” I breathed.

“That’s not all,” he said with a sly wink. I watched as he released the aether and then pulled out his actual daggers again, assuming the same stance.

I stared in total fascination as the Shadows crept their way up his hands, wrapping around his wrists as if to strengthen his grip on the hilts. The Shadow aether spread, coating the blades themselves in total darkness, as if Kieran was wielding the sharp edges of the Abyss itself as weaponry.

He laughed again and shook the aether off as if it was simply smoke, sheathing his daggers and reaching out to ruffle my hair.

“As I said. You didn’t need to do that, freshling. I can be plenty scary.”

“I never doubted that. You have a very threatening aura.”

He snorted.

“I am sorry, though, if me stepping in like that was obnoxious or offensive or anything,” I offered with sincerity. “I just… got a little protective there for a minute. I didn’t like how he was speaking to you.”

It hadn’t been the first time I’d heard someone speak poorly about Kieran, but it wasn’t particularly common either. He was charming and well-liked among most everyone I had encountered thus far. If I had to guess, those around here who didn’t like him were jilted ex-flings or guardsmen who were jealous of how quickly he’d climbed their ranks.

“Don’t worry about me, Arken. I’m used to it. He wasn’t exactly wrong, you know,” Kieran said with a shrug. “Not about that first bit about you and I, obviously, but I do sleep around. I don’t really have friends. Most people don’t really notice that. Most people don’t pay close enough attention to notice much of anything, really, but Anders is a nosy bastard.”

I don’t really have friends.

“I’m your friend,” I said with a glare, a bit hurt.

I didn’t care that he slept around. A tiny part of me was admittedly jealous, but I didn’t resent him for his choice in stress relief.

“You’re my best friend,” he agreed. “Apologies, Asher. You know that you’re the exception to most of my rules. And I’m lucky to have you around.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, you never know when you need someone to pull a knife on the heir of the House of Clay to defend your honor,” I joked.

His eyes darkened briefly before returning the smile.

“Yeah, do me a favor? Never do that again, woman.”

“No promises.”

He groaned, and I gave him a winning smile.

I mean really, what did he expect?