Chapter 21

Chapter 21

T he stables and courtyard were a flurry of ordered chaos, the sort of urgent structure found only in the moments that existed before things went to shit.

Sebastian knelt beside the great statue of Qhohena, the steady roar of the fountain soothing against his frayed senses. He finished the final lacings on his boots before standing, picking up his leather bracers from the ground, and sliding them onto his forearms.

Horses were being readied at the stables, stable hands running to and fro. Feran worked with the stable hands, tightening cinches, fitting bridles, securing saddlebags filled with supplies. They had a three-day journey ahead to the northern castle of Khento, and it would be a hard ride for both the men and the horses. Sebastian trusted Feran to ensure they were well-prepared.

Drystan stood closer to the barracks that sat between the stables and the castle itself, directing Matheo and Trefor as they organized weapons, sifting through the stockpile of broadswords and rapiers and bows and daggers. Drystan himself was already dripping with steel, but still secured several additional weapons to his blood bay gelding. Matheo slung a bow and quiver of arrows to Sebastian’s gray mare; his brother knew Sebastian’s proclivity for the weapon.

That didn’t mean Sebastian didn’t still have daggers sheathed at his hip or a longsword already tucked into his saddle. Having options was always the preference.

“Quentin, do you mind making yourself at least moderately useful?” Drystan’s voice rang across the courtyard, pulling Sebastian’s attention with it.

Quentin, who stood before several stacked bales of hay, loosed another dagger into the target he’d roughly secured to the fodder. He shot a venomous glare at Drystan, before pulling another knife from his baldric and repeating the throw.

Sebastian huffed a chuckle, starting forward. “Leave him to it, Drystan. You know how he gets.” Drystan glowered for a moment at Quentin, before sighing and turning back to the weapons pile. Sebastian strode toward them, finishing up the lacings on his bracers as he walked.

“Sebastian!”

He paused mid-stride, turning back halfway. “Ryland? What is it?”

The City Guard captain jogged across the courtyard, breathless as he halted before Sebastian. He was one of the Marked who hadn’t been Selected, and Sebastian had known him since boyhood. Ryland glanced around at the flurry of movement, concern on his face.

“Are you … are you sure this is a good idea? What if the pirates storm the docks again?”

Sebastian grimaced. “Then your Guardsmen best be prepared to defend the city, as they are sworn to do.” In truth, he felt Ryland’s fears; they’d kept him up all night. The implications their leaving the city would mean for the resident’s safety.

Sebastian still heard the screams from the last time they’d abandoned their post in favor of searching for their queen.

He sighed, stepping forward to grasp Ryland by the shoulder. “I understand your worries. But you heard what the priestess said. If our queen’s life is truly in jeopardy, we have no real choice. We must try to save her … or die trying.”

“But do you all have to go? The men will feel your absence. At least have a few of you stay; Drystan, or Feran, perhaps.”

Sebastian had debated it; only asking a few of Mariah’s Armature to go on this mission. But as he’d thought about it and met the looks in his brother’s eyes, he knew he could never ask any of them to stay behind. They had just as much of a right to see her safely home as he did.

He bore the blood of enough innocents; he could tolerate a bit more if it meant Mariah was home.

The one thing he hadn’t thought much about was what they’d do if they found Andrian there. With her. Sebastian’s fury had already burned too hot for him to dwell on that for long.

“I can’t ask that of them.” He forced a smile, releasing Ryland. “It will only be for a few days; a week, at most. You have the queen’s Mark, too; I have faith you will protect this city.”

Ryland’s mouth opened and conflict warred across his face, as if he wanted to say something further. Ultimately, though, he set his mouth in a grim line and nodded.

“Safe travels.” With a tense set to his shoulders, he turned, striding towards the barracks.

Sebastian sighed, his gaze drifting idly over the activity of the courtyard … before it stopped.

Ciana and Rylla padded out from the tunnel leading to the palace side entrance. Ciana was dressed comfortably, a red sweater bundled around her to fight off the spring chill, glowing golden curls blowing around her face in the slight breeze.

Gods, he’d been so furious with her when he’d found out about her little foray into the city. He still was; why couldn’t she understand the panic it had caused him? There was so much to be fearful of, and of course, she had to choose to create more.

But without her insistence, without her pushing, without her defiance, they might not have learned what they did. Maybe Rylla and Kiira would’ve found the priestess without Ciana leading them all out that day into the city, but … maybe not.

Sebastian knew—gods, did he know—that Ciana cared so deeply and so brightly for those she loved. He’d asked her to stay at the palace for him , for his peace of mind. He was still mad, but he was realizing that what he’d asked of her was something she never would’ve obeyed. Not forever.

Her amber gaze landed on him. She twisted her hands nervously in front of her before giving him a hesitant smile.

He returned it—perhaps a touch more enthusiastically. Ciana unclasped her hands and turned to walk to him. Rylla peeled away from her side, heading to join the preparing Armature.

Rylla, who was in her black panther form, her sleek black coat shimmering in the morning sunlight. They’d decided that while Kiira would remain behind with Ciana and Delaynie, Rylla would join the Armature. As strange as it was to be confronted with the existence of shifters in their world, Sebastian couldn’t deny that her particular skills would prove invaluable for this type of mission. The horses knickered at her, ears pricking as they pawed at the ground, but they relaxed as she slowly wound her way between them.

“It’s quite strange, isn’t it?”

Ciana stood a few paces in front of him, blinking in the sunlight. Her amber eyes were wide as they tracked Rylla’s movement between the horses, and her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, freckles stark against her skin.

He swallowed. “Strange?”

Ciana nodded at Rylla. “I mean, we know she’s human. We’ve spoken to her and we’ve seen her shift. But seeing her like that …” She sighed. “I don’t know. It just reminds me of how little we really know about the world. How much has been kept from us.”

Sebastian watched her before slowly nodding. “I agree. It makes me wonder what else might be out there.”

She hummed in response but said nothing further. He cleared his throat, shifting slightly.

“I’ve … been meaning to apologize.”

Her attention snapped to him. “You? Apologize?” She scoffed. “I never thought I’d see the day.” Her eyes carried a guarded look, but she still lifted an eyebrow. A cautious, playful gesture.

He exhaled. “I know. It’s been … It’s been a difficult few weeks.” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at the ground. “And I’m sorry. For the things I said to you. And the way I treated you. I wanted you safe, but I know why you had to get out.”

Ciana took a step forward, now only a foot from him. He met her bright eyes, the way a golden curl blew across her face.

He was struck by a sudden urge to reach out and tuck the errant strand behind her ear.

“I’m still pissed at you for not listening to me,” she said before he could move. “But I understand your reasons. And I appreciate you saying sorry.”

He chuckled. “I’m still pissed at you, too.”

Just as he said it, the sparkle in her eyes snuffed out.

Fuck. What was it about her? It was like she made him forget himself. Forget how to say the right things, forget how to do what was best. Forget how to be perfect.

She made him feel … human.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant.” He reached desperately for the right words. “I only meant—I’m still mad that you didn’t listen to me and went into the city. But I’m far more thankful to you that you did.” He took a step forward, reaching for her hand. Her skin was smooth and soft as he clutched it in his, her gaze rising again to meet his.

“If you continued to listen to my stupid rules, then we wouldn’t know what we know. We wouldn’t be leaving now, about to bring home our queen. When we save Mariah, it will be because of you. ”

Her fingers twitched against his palm. She sniffed, lifting her chin. “Next time, don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. I spent enough of my life trapped by men. And I know you are nothing like those monsters, but I refuse to spend a single more second feeling like a captive.”

Sebastian felt the blood leave his face, his eyes going wide. The idea that through his commands he had made her feel such things. That it had bothered her enough to even make such a comparison …

He was struggling with his failures, to be sure, but to be mentioned in the same sentence as the animals who’d once hurt her … he thought he might be sick.

He released her hand, stepping back. “Ciana … I am so, so sorry. I never meant—I never should have?—”

A finger against his lips immobilized him. Amber eyes glimmered in front of him.

“Even at your worst, Sebastian, you could never be anything like them. Ever.” She dropped her hand, a hint of a smile touching her lips. “I might know a way you can make it up to me, though.”

He tilted his head hesitantly. “How?”

She cracked, truly smiling. “You get a beer with me.” Her brightness dimmed, just a touch, as she swallowed. “You bring our girl home, and you bring yourself home. Don’t you dare leave me in this city alone; I will never forgive you and will haunt your soul once my time is spent. And then, once you—and Mariah—are back, you’ll get a beer with me.”

So many emotions burned behind Sebastian’s eyes, in the back of his throat. Sadness, and fear, and hope, and happiness, all melting together and dripping through him like scalding fire. He swallowed, forcing an inhale.

With a slow, measured movement, he reached out a hand and rested it against Ciana’s cheek, sinking his fingers into her thick golden curls. She leaned so subtly into his hand, and every part of him burned with something new and indescribable and terrifying.

“I promise, Cee. I will bring her home. For both of us. And then …” His throat closed, the wind brushing her hair across his skin, alighting him like the rays of his very own, personal sunshine. A sunshine he swore to carry with him north, into the cold shadows of Khento.

“And then, we’ll get that beer.”