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XERXES

Nights were strange and mystical in the desert. Creatures that hid during the day crept out of the cracks, skittering along the sand, finding a way to remain undetected by the humans who didn’t belong in this place. Mist coiled in the sky, and the surface of the sand turned to glass, reflecting the moonlight in pools of white. Xerxes had never realized it was beautiful. He wondered why it had taken him so long to notice.

He lifted his cot as soon as he came into his tent, searching the ground beneath for his signet ring. He didn’t remember taking it off or throwing it, but maybe he’d been a little more out of his mind than usual these last days with venom and medicine in his veins. He’d gone the whole day without realizing his father’s ring was missing from his forefinger, and now that he’d noticed, he couldn’t think of anything else.

When he spotted his robe of nobility, he pulled it on, stifling a shiver. Then he threw clothes and armour out of the way with loud bangs, peering into the nighttime shadows beneath Reza’s bed next, finally tossing the General’s whole cot onto its side.

“Well, that’s rude,” Reza’s scratchy voice remarked from behind him.

Xerxes turned to find the man stroking his beard with a scowl. Reza’s cape was off, slung over his arm, a darker green than usual in the dimness. A torch at his back sent dancing light into the tent. “I lost something. What are you doing here?” Xerxes asked.

Reza tsked and folded his arms, tucking the cape into his elbow. “I was coming to check on you. You’re recovering still and shouldn’t be moving around so much, and it’s late. Maybe you should think about going to bed. Tomorrow…” Reza filled the pause with a raspy cough that sounded forced. It was followed by a sniff, then an unnecessary study of his cape during which he apparently found a fluff to pick off.

Xerxes stared, waiting for the General to finish anyway. “What, Reza? What will happen tomorrow? Hmm?” he finally asked. He knew Reza didn’t have the guts to state that Xerxes might be a dead king after tomorrow.

And if he was going to be dead, he wanted to at least be wearing his signet ring. He dragged his attention back to the furniture, the baskets in the corner, the armour hung on branches. Perhaps the ring was buried beneath a lump of sand. Xerxes nudged the floor with his toe, unearthing every ring-shaped pile.

“I don’t think you’re going to die, Xerxes,” Reza said, taking a step back when sand flew in his direction.

Xerxes kicked the last heap on the floor and sighed. Maybe he’d left his ring in the feasting tent. Or maybe someone had found it by the oasis and had delivered it to the strategy tent.

“I’m praying for you,” Reza added, and Xerxes’s eyes rolled a little.

“Save your mutters.” As if he needed the Celestial Divinities anywhere near him on his day of death.

“Why are you so sure you’re going to die?”

Xerxes realized he was holding his breath when his chest began to tingle. He let it out all at once, misty traces visible in the cold. “Because death would be better than being captured alive by B’rei Mira, Reza. You know that.”

The General released another damp cough. He rubbed his nose as he wandered over, reset his cot on its legs, and began putting all the blankets back where they belonged.

Xerxes’s fists tapped against his thighs as he stood there, watching. “Aren’t you going to say anything now that I’ve admitted that?” he asked. He fiddled with the cuff of his silk coat. “Aren’t you going to tell me what to do?”

“No.” Reza turned and sat on his bed, his leathers all bunching together across his stomach. “It’s not my job to tell you what to do. I’ve told you many times.”

“Not even in this instance?” Xerxes clasped his hands behind his back.

“No, Xerxes. You’re like a son to me, and I want you to survive. But I can’t tell you what to believe, or who to trust in, or not to be distracted.” Reza took off a boot and turned it upside down. A thin stream of sand spilled out.

Xerxes raised a brow. “Distracted? What, by the Divinities, does that mean? All I’ve thought about is this meeting.” Cold night air sailed into the tent.

“That’s not true. You grabbed a deathstalker off Commander Adassah. You’re about to meet the most dangerous War King on our maps, and you still chose to save her over yourself. I know you protected the Gold Maiden to guard this army’s hope, Xerxes, but it was reckless. I don’t know how many times I can possibly tell you to stop being reckless before I feel like a father with a rebellious child.”

Xerxes shot him a look. “You’re not my father. Stop saying that.”

Reza returned his boot and raised both hands in apology. “Yes, Your Majesty, I know that.”

A fresh gust of wind sliced in, sending a shiver up Xerxes’s spine. He huffed another coil of white breath and glanced out toward the large bonfire past the tents. Sounds of cheering lifted from it, soldiers celebrating. Though he wasn’t sure what everyone was celebrating. It was a strange time to throw a party. Also, Xerxes didn’t care to point out to the General that his rescuing Commander Adassah from the scorpion had nothing to do with him wanting to preserve the army’s hope.

Though, Reza wasn’t all wrong. It wasn’t the first time the old General had made a comment about Xerxes being like a son. And even though Reza often said things that drove ice into Xerxes’s bones, Reza was more of a father to Xerxes than anyone in the desert or the palace. Possibly more of a father than King Draco had been. The man might have even truly cared for Xerxes.

“You have feelings for Commander Adassah, don’t you?” Reza cut into Xerxes’s thoughts, casting ice into Xerxes’s bones like he was trying to live up to his expectations. “It’s like you’ve forgotten you’re in a war. You’ve been giving that maiden your attention instead of planning what you might say to save Per-Siana.”

Xerxes glared over his shoulder. “What? You think I haven’t been concerned for Per-Siana? How dare you!”

“All I’m saying, Xerxes, is that the Gold Maiden showed up at the exact moment you were desperate for hope.” Reza sighed and patted his belly in a pattern with his fingers. “Then you were summoned to meet Alecsander of B’rei Mira, and deep down you knew that may mean your death. So instead of facing your fears, it’s been easier to think about her. I’ve watched you ignore the facts since the beginning of this war; it’s not outrageous of me to assume you’ve created this perfect golden distraction to rescue your mind from the horrors to come.”

The breeze dried out Xerxes’s wide eyes as he stared. “You think I’ve created her into something she’s not?” he asked. The ice in his bones crept into his veins.