It’s unfair.
Nauseatingly so.
But this bit of information also relieves the tiniest bit of weight from my weary heart. Because if he’s telling the truth, it means heisdifferent than past Mouren rulers, just as I’d hoped. Inheriting monstrous things isn’t the same as making them yourself.
But the question still remains—what will he ultimatelydowith those things?
And how do we fix any of it before it’s too late?
I look to the rain-splattered window just as I did in his office earlier, thinking of Sesca. More and more, I find myself wanting to go to her in these moments when the world and all of its cruelties and complications stop making sense.
“A new divine age, Brynn said…” I think aloud. “What did she mean by that? Do you think there will be other divine dragons making an appearance sometime soon?”
“That’s what the rest of the empire is hoping, I’m sure. Historically, they’ve tended to appear in close succession across all the kingdoms.” He picks up the drink I brought,but doesn’t sip from it, only swirls and studies the contents of the glass for a moment before he adds, “As far as I know, however, there’s been no other signs of any. Just you.”
“Which is why I’m such a target.”
“Exactly. Even if more eventually appear, every kingdom wants to be the first to lay claim to the next iteration of divine dragon power. It’s always been that way.”
“Always?” I frown. “There was peace in the beginning, surely? The kingdoms were all even when they were established, according to legend—each dragon representing a part of a singular whole. Hearth, Inferno, Ember, Ash…all the collective parts of a flame’s life cycle.”
He studies me for a moment before giving a noncommittal shrug. “I suppose that’s true.”
“Do you think the empire could ever return to something so…whole? Something healed and peaceful?” Even as I say it, I realize what an impossible question it is. Especially for him, the centerpiece of this kingdom that has been responsible for so much of the breaking, and which I now realize is far from whole itself.
Reave lets out a sigh. “I think…that’s a discussion to be had after we’ve both managed to get a decent night’s sleep.”
If that ever happens again,I start to say—until I notice him wince slightly as he reaches for something at the edge of his desk, and concern catches my tongue.
He needs more than sleep, I think.
“And maybe after you’ve dealt with the alarming amount of blood still on your clothing?” I suggest, pointedly.
He glances down at his tattered shirt, peeking out from under his unbuttoned coat, as if he’s just remembered his injury. “Yes; that should probably be a priority, too. Though it’s not as bad as it looks, for what it’s worth.”
“The famous last words of the King of Mouren, spoken right before he died of infection from his untreated wounds.”
A ghost of a grin crosses his face. “That’s dramatic.”
“Go take care of yourself,” I order, “or I’m going to tell your sister.”
“Devils, both of you,” he mutters, but then relents, getting to his feet.
Before he slips away into the washroom, he points me toward a stack of papers on his desk—detailed reports from the regiments of Gault, along with some of his recent correspondence with Baroness Serath—and suggests I look over it myself while he’s gone. Another gesture ofno more secretsbetween us, I guess.
I carry some of these things back to the glass-walled nook, sitting and absently picking at more food while I try to focus on reading.
But I think my mind has reached the limit of what it can absorb in a single day.
And my gaze keeps drifting toward the washroom, anyway. Reave partially opens the door to let the steam out after he’s done bathing, and as the fog settles, I notice him tending to several angry-looking wounds along his side and back.
Ihopeit’s not as bad as it looks, as he claimed, because it looks fucking awful.
Curiosity and concern get the better of me. I get up and move toward him, leaning against the doorway. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
His answer is annoyingly predictable. “I’ve been worse.”
I loose an exasperated breath. Studying the wounds closer, I notice a web of dark discoloration spreading outfrom the main marks…and starting to form scars that look almost identical to the ones on his forearms.
