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Theo bounces his leg up and down. The rhythmic thud echoing through the library. His shoulders tense as he stares blankly at the floor.
“That’s how Pyke knows my father? He’s originally from Lux?” Theo is starting to ask questions about Lux and second guessing what he knows. My plan seems to be working.
“Yes. Pyke and his sister, Elizabeth, had left Lux and were viators when Oren met them. One bite of Pyke’s food and Oren offered him the role as our head cook,” I answer. Honestly, Oren bringing Pyke here was the only good thing he ever did in his life. One of the few times death wasn’t his top priority.
Theo nods slowly, and I can almost see the pieces rolling around in his mind. Trying to put all of it together with as little information as possible. But he’ll need more. Even though I’m not sure he wants to know all the answers.
“What did my father do to Pyke? I know it was bad, but I’d like to know. If that’s ok? Pyke could barely contain his hatred for me, and I deserve to know what brought that on.”He’s definitely realizing that he needs more.
I let out a sigh, trying to prepare myself to tell Pyke’s painful past. It’s almost the standard here in Umbra. Heartbreak and loss forces people to risk everything to escape, even if it means facing new monsters. The depths people will go through to get away from the cruel, power-thirsty men of this realm.
“Pyke and Elizabeth lived in Lux with Pyke’s husband, David. His Amari,” I answer. Theo’s face loses all color at the sound of the name. By the look on his face, he already knows exactly what his father did.
“David was captain of the guard. Your father wanted the position. He killed David during a training exercise and passed it off as an accident. One of their trusted friends told Pyke what happened,” I continue.
Theo leans forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs. I wish I could tell Theo it was Breton who told Pyke everything, our friendly childhood guard. The one who knew us better than our parents sometimes. But I can’t bring him up without getting emotional, and that won’t make sense to Theo.
“Pyke attempted to retaliate against Arthur. But Arthur threatened Elizabeth. He told Pyke he was going to kidnap Elizabeth and do horrible things to her. Then he would let his men have a turn. Arthur told Pyke he would return Elizabeth as a ruined woman or a dead one. He didn’t care which,” I sigh, my heart aching for Pyke and Elizabeth and all they’ve endured.
Theo shoots out of his chair and begins to pace anxiously. He runs his hands through his hair, disheveling it. Even angry, he’s still the most handsome mortal I’ve ever met.
“They got out, Theo. They packed and left the next morning. They traveled between the other kingdoms before Oren found them. Elizabeth has become one of the best seamstresses in the village. Pyke is here. They’re safe. Arthur never got to harm them and never will,” I say, hoping to ease some of the fury that is visibly rising in him.
“He did hurt them. He killed Pyke’s husband! His Amari, for gods’ sake!” Theo exclaims as he halts his pacing. He looks at me with a mix of fury and shame. This is his father we’re talking about, and his commanding officer.
“Pyke did everything he could to rescue his sister from the man who murdered his husband. Only for the son of the murderer to show up in his home years later. The pain I must have caused him by showing up. I know if things were the other way around, I would have had a much worse reaction,” Theo admits. “I know my father has always been ruthlessly ambitious. But knowing what he’s done to them ... I hate him,” Theo whispers the last words.
“We’re not responsible for our fathers’ sins, Captain. Pyke knows that you’re not Arthur. He wouldn’t have said he was sorry if he didn’t mean it,” I tell him honestly. He looks at me doubtfully.
“Is your father as bad as mine?” he asks as the wordourclicks into place. Memories claw at my mind, trying to pull me back into the darkness.
“Worse. You’re not the only one with father issues. It seems to be relatively normal around here,” I say, flat and hollow.
I fight back the urge to tuck at the sleeves of my shirt to keep my scars from showing.
My past and present meld in a harsh onslaught. Flashes of being chained to the wall of my cell, hungry and filthy, fill my vision. Then I’m back to the present with Theo standing in the library I built for him. Suddenly, I’m pulled back to the past by the memory of a hand closing around my throat. Oren stares at me as black fills his eyes. A smile laced with malice tells me Oren knows what I’m planning—even from his grave. I’m thrown back into the present, gasping for air, feeling as though I’ve been punched in the gut.
Rough fingertips wrap around my hand, prying it open. I feel a sting in my palm, and I register that my own nails are digging in. My heart races as my breathing becomes ragged. Theo kneels before me and rubs the palm of my hand, trying to calm my panic.
“Breathe with me,” he whispers. The same words he used to say when I was his flower, and my anxiety got the better of me. He always knew how to talk me through it. I yank my hand away from him, swallowing hard and fighting back a flood of emotions. Theo stares at me with a mix of shock and concern as he examines me.
He stands, crossing his arms over his chest. This time, I’m the one who can’t meet his gaze as I try to steady my racing heart.
“Do you ever let anyone see the real you under all those masks?” he asks with a hint of annoyance in his tone.
“I could ask you the same thing, Captain. I’m not the only one who hides behind one,” I answer, glancing up at him through my lashes.
His features soften as he looks away, and I return to my stare down with the floor.
“Do you sometimes feel like you don’t know who you are without the masks? That it’s hard to tell where they start and you end anymore?” Theo asks. He looks at me, face relaxed and a twinge of sadness furrowing his brows.
My breath hitches as I look into his gentle, honey eyes, completely void of the stoic façade of a royal guard. A small crack to show me how we’re not that different after all. I swallow hard, trying to gather a coherent thought.
“I think sometimes we spend so much time protecting ourselves or the ones we love that we lose pieces of who we once were,” I answer. A smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I remember what my mother always told me. “But we’re never truly lost. The threads will lead you home. You just have to listen and follow.”
“Why does that sound so familiar?” Theo asks as his face twists in hard concentration.
“I’m sure I read it in a book or something,” I say, hope erupting in my chest.
