“The Pervaille family,” she whispered, already mourning the fire in his eyes. “You heard Niely, right? You heareverything.” She’d never asked him about his gift of overhearing words that weren’t meant for his ears, and this seemed a good moment to bring it up.
Khayrivven’s features tightened for a beat before he shook his head. “Not here. Let’s find somewhere private to talk.”
With a glance at the still-empty throne, he guided her toward one of the side doors, checking over his shoulder before nodding at the guards, who promptly opened the tall, gilded door for them, standing aside to let them through.
From somewhere down the marble hallway presenting itself in front of them, voices floated on the air, and Lory spotted two doors at the far end by a room-high window. Potted trees formed a dynamic silhouette against the sun kissing the horizon behind the palace walls, and couples strolled in front of them like this was an escape of some sort, a dream of greenery they usually didn’t get to see.
Khayrivven wound his fingers around Lory’s, thumb brushing the back of her palm as he secured her hand atop his forearm more tightly. “Act natural,” he whispered, inclining his head at the couple they passed by.
In a crooked, seemingly arbitrary line, Khayrivven led her toward the end of the hallway, casually admiring the carved ceiling and columns lining the space.
Whatever this area was, they weren’t the only ones seeking privacy, and the chuckles on the ladies’ lips at theircompanions’ murmurs told Lory everything about what brought them out here, away from the main event. Not that she minded.
Khayrivven slowed his pace, lingering by a pair of columns as he waited for another couple to walk past them, the man inclining his head at Lory before whispering to the lady on his arm.
“Now.” There was no other warning as Khayrivven pulled her back against the wall, and Lory braced for the impact?—
It never came. Instead, she stumbled into a small room behind a door of white-painted wood, integrating seamlessly into the marble wall. Turning on his heels, Khayrivven shut the door with the softest of clicks and leaned against it, taking in the small sitting room furnished with a wooden bookcase on one side and a green velvet settee on the other. At the center, a thick rug of yellow and golden hues covered the polished limestone floor, the colors appearing aflame in the orange sunset light.
“Better.” His chest rose in a slow, deep breath while his eyes scanned the room for potential dangers, exits, and items to be used as a weapon. The candelabra on the windowsill, the polished rocks sitting on the bookshelf in a neat row in front of countless books, the chair beside the settee, serving as a tea table. The corner of his mouth lifted as he spotted the empty plate and silver butter knife sitting there. With three long paces, he crossed the room, picking up the blade and weighing it in his palm. “Not what we’re used to at Ashthorn, but it’s sharp enough to create a decent stab wound.”
With the effortlessness of a street thief, he made the knife disappear into the breast pocket of his jacket, a smirk on his face. “I like to steal little things from Ulder,” he explained, tapping his jacket where the knife was now hidden. “Seems just, since he stole my family.”
Lory didn’t know what to say. An open statement from Khayrivven without her drawing every last syllable from him was new. And the perfect moment to ask all those questions that had been collecting on her tongue since the moment he’d found her in the leonthor’s cave.
“Is it safe to talk freely here?”
“For now.” It was the only confirmation she needed, her heart beating out of her chest as she allowed herself to go back to that moment when he’d extinguished the Flames in the cave. So much had happened since they’d returned to Ashthorn, and she hadn’t heard a word about Enya, Garrick, and Olive. Or about what Lenya’s secret power was to terrify even a powerful Flame like Khayrivven into silence.
But for now—“Pervaille. Niely said the Pervaille family is behind the attacks. Is this something you know about?”
Lory leaned against the windowsill, her pulse racing as she waited for yet another revelation, but Khayrivven shook his head.
“Good news, though. At least we know it’s the rightful rulers of Criulias fighting Ulder’s regime rather than some random new group grasping for power.” He nodded to himself, joining her at the window, but leaning against the wall instead of the windowsill, where he wouldn’t be visible from outside—not that there was anything outthere, beyond the palace walls. This window faced north, the opposite direction of Ashthorn’s pyramid, and the buildings in the city were too far away to spot a thing. “Even though I’m not sure we can believe Niely entirely. He might have made it up to impress theconquesthe stole from me.” The chuckle following his words made Lory’s skin crawl with questions.
“So what’s the deal with you and Niely? You served together in the common military—he told me that much—but that’s surely not the reason he has that competition going on with you.”
Khayrivven frowned at the ceiling. “I wouldn’t call it a competition.”
“What would you call it then?” Lory braced her hands on her hips, sliding an inch away to face him better.
With a sigh, Khayrivven turned his head, glancing down at her with an expression clearly questioning if she was serious.
“If someone takes such delight in besting you at something, there has to be a history.” Lory set her jaw. “What was it? Is he just a natural born prick, or did you do something to make him an enemy?”
At that, Khayrivven laughed a rumbling sound, his face lighting up despite the edge in his grin. “Oh, he is a natural born prick all right.” The grin vanished from his face. “Brady Niely used to be my friend—as close a friend as possible in a pit of snakes looking down on me for my heritage. But Brady Niely didn’t judge me for that. At least, not until a Criu girl chose me over him.”
That hit Lory like a stone.
She’d known Khayrivven wasn’t without history in that department, but hearing it?—
“What happened?” Because she needed to know before her imagination could run wild and the jealousy building inside of her could target a threat from the past.
Khayrivven shook his head. “She double-played us, but he’d fallen in love with her so deeply he couldn’t see what was going on. So he blamed me.” For a moment, he stared at the window, the fading sunlight painting patterns on the side of his face. “It was around the same time I was made captain after our last mission in the Amrin Mountains. He hasn’t forgiven me for either—the girl choosing me and the promotion he still thinks he’d have deserved instead of me.”
That explained the competition Niely had with Khayrivven, the compulsion to take whatever woman Khayrivven showed interest in away from him and take pleasure in it.
It took Lory a long minute to process, her mind going through everything Niely had said about the mountains, about Khayrivven killing his own people. “He admires you, I think. Even when you took what he wanted.”
