I expect him to retain his usual formality, so when he grins and reveals more of his teeth than I’ve ever seen before, I’m stunned.
“Someone had to keep their spirits up.” He winks, and I do my best not to stare. Purity isn’t athatsharequirement, but the matching process is sacrosanct, and it’s unusual to hear about anyone sleeping around. I had heard rumors about the lowernish,but Lyklan?
His face falls as he reads my silence as disapproval. Rolling his shoulders back, Lyklan stands at attention, but something is off. His wings are stowed, even though there’s plenty of room in here for him to—Oh.My stomach twists. He’s tucked them in on my behalf. I don’t know how I feel about that.
“I’ve been a poor friend to you,” I mutter.
Lyklan frowns. “Are you well?”
“I’m fine, but I’ve come to realize my expectations for you were neither fair nor honorable.”
His brow furrows, and he takes a step toward me. “Your expectations were as they have always been.”
I toss my hands up. “That makes it even worse, doesn’t it? Your family works for mine. I didn’t consider how my actions impacted you. My goals were mine; your allegiance was mine; and Celine was mine, too. I dragged you away from your family and forced you to live in an unfamiliar realm without once asking if you were okay with it.”
“That wasn’t—” Lyklan sighs heavily. “You’re too hard on yourself. You always have been, but no one questions your honor.”
“Maybe you should.” I stride behind the desk. My judgment rune mocks me from the wall, devoured by S’lach’s silence. “Perhaps if someone had questioned me sooner, some of these trials could have been avoided.”
“As I said, you’re far too hard on yourself,” Lyklan says.
I hum, grabbing the raised lines of silence and giving them an experimental yank. Nothing. My face twists into a scowl. I should have known better. The engineering tier isn’t known for creating things that don’t last.
“Shall I fetch a mallet?” Lyklan’s voice is level, but I know he’s teasing me.
“Are you sure you can you manage it?” I drawl. “I last asked you for pen and paper and you brought my wife by mistake.” I smile to show him I’m not angry, and he shakes his head.
“I’m not sorry,” he says. “Celine deserved the chance to offer you the same level of loyalty you’ve given her all these years. Some of us don’t get it right the first time ...” His eyes cloud, and I know he’s thinking about S’lach’s reign of terror, and the things he did to survive.
“Your family, are they safe?” I shift my weight, suddenly terrified that even more innocents will be caught in S’lach’s ruthless pursuit of power. Once he realizes he can’t enter the estate he considers his, he’ll turn on anyone who remains unprotected. My family is too powerful for S’lach to attack directly, but Lyklan’s doesn’t have the same advantage.
He nods, but a shadow crosses his face.
“I moved them,” he says. “They’re no longer within his reach.”
I face him fully. Dark circles hover beneath his eyes from too many sleepless nights, and there’s a tightness around his mouth I’ve never seen before. He’s exhausted.
“When?” I whisper. “When did you move them, Lyklan?”
He lifts his chin. “After I sent for Celine.”
My stomach sinks, then flips. “I hate that you had to do that.” I won’t do him the disservice of pretending it was unnecessary.
Lyklan’s expression softens. “And I hate that you lost your wings. I should have been faster, braver, something more. He could have killed you, and I would have let it happen.”
“His actions aren’t your responsibility.”
“They aren’t yours either, yet we’re both standing here apologizing while preparing to kill him. What does that say about us, Malach?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I want to say something wise. Something a leader should. I want to tell Lyklan I don’t blame him anymore. I want to assure him his family will be able to come home soon. That his parents and his little sisters will be able to live their lives without the draconian measures S’lach enacted over the sevennish,but I don’t know if it’s true. We might lose, and only the gods know what it says about us that we’re willing to try, anyway.
“I’m not sure,” I whisper. “I used to be certain, but now... all I know is that I want him to pay, and I’m willing to sacrifice to make it happen.”
Lyklan nods once, solemnly, and draws his sword. “Please excuse me. I believe I found that mallet you were searching for.”
I step aside, and Lyklan brings the sword down on S’lach’s rune. He hacks at it, cleaving chips and chunks away until it’s unrecognizable. I should stop him. He’s dulling his blade. The banging will draw attention. It’s a waste of his energy, which he’ll need.
There are any number of things I could say to stop him.
