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Not that I didn’t believe in a deity or higher being. But I looked at these jagged rocks and couldn’t understand why they’d chosen such lifeless objects as symbols of their faith.
I didn’t want to hang around too long in case the beach started to fill in with worshippers. I’d made it to Treye’s Grove in twenty minutes. I could probably make it back to the castle in fifteen.
My second favorite thing about running, aside from the physical effects, was the way it cleared my mind. The waves crashing on the beach and the seagulls diving to catch their morning meal provided just enough distraction to keep my mind from wandering. Which was a good thing because ever since the Duval’s arrival two days ago, I'd been having a hard time taking my mind off of my brother and his upcoming nuptials.
I’d tried to tell him they were grifters. Misha was nice enough, but the man called himself a Lord for fuck’s sake. Truthfully, Dreslen had nothing to offer. They were a cursed people from the very beginning. Centuries of droughts had left it barren and mostly uninhabitable. If there were anything of substance in that gods’ forsaken land, then Osavian would’ve annexed them in a heartbeat. We all knew there was nothing worthwhile within those borders. Misha could keep his kingdom of treachery and lesser folk.
Lord of Nothing.
And his daughter, Emilie—Lady of Deceit.
I’d bet everything I owned that she took after her greedy mother. I was waiting to see what exactly it was that she wanted from Cyrus. They had everything to gain while we received nothing in return. I hoped when the day came, he would be smart enough to not give into her every demand. My brother had a good heart, but he was easily persuaded by women.
And he wouldn’t listen to my concerns, of course. He and Misha had been friends since they were children, so he rebuked the tales of old. Didn’t want to believe that his friend was the descendant of a traitor.
I was about to pass the old wooden dock that marks the edge of the royal seaside property when I saw my mother approaching.
“Morning,” I said between jagged breaths, coming to a stop. I checked the mage device on my wrist designed to keep time. Sixteen minutes and thirty-two seconds.
Damn it.
“Good morning, Ladon. We missed you at breakfast this morning. Don’t you usually finish your run earlier?”
She knew my habits well enough; she shouldn’t have to ask. I’m sure she’s mostly interested in why I wasn’t at breakfast.
“I woke up late,” was the only response I offered.
We walked across the beach and onto the rickety dock. My mother leaned against a wooden rail and watched as a small group of ducklings floated underneath us.
I stood next to her and rested my forearms on the railing, still dripping sweat. The water looked so blissfully cool; I could’ve dived right in just for the reprieve.
“What’s on your mind, Son?”
Her voice was sweet and soothing. The same tone she’d used when I was only a child. She still treated me that way sometimes. I guess to her, I’d always be the baby of the family.
I pressed back against the railing and stood up straight. “Nothing.”
“I know you better than that. You’ve been standoffish the past few days. What’s bothering you?”
“I’m always standoffish.”
She smiled but didn't laugh. “You’ve always been reserved. There’s a difference.”
“Just stressed I suppose.” It was true. Between the tension on the border and the apprehension over Cyrus and Emilie’s wedding, I hadn’t had a moment of peace in weeks.
My mother rubbed my back in soothing circles. The sweat didn’t seem to bother her. “Cyrus puts too much pressure on you.”
“It’s fine, Mother. It’s my job.”
“I’m only saying, just because you’re his right-hand man doesn’t mean you’re invincible. We all need a break sometimes.”
I scoffed. The chances of taking a break in the near future were very slim. I’d sent a message to Fort Malek yesterday that we were to send three guards to search for the missing scout. Three. I shook my head, knowing it was a lost cause before we even began. I worried those three guards wouldn’t come back either. We should’ve sent an entire platoon.
“You’re drifting again,” my mother said, brushing her hand through my white locks.
“One day.” I turned to her and patted her other hand before clasping it in my own. “If I take one day off, will you get off my back?”
She looked back out at the sea. “I suppose it’s all I can ask for, isn’t it?”
