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“All the rules of the Kronos Society are written down. Volume I covers the Protégés. Volume II describes the duties of the Heir and Leader—”
I interrupt Gus before he can continue explaining. “Why are the Heir and Leader in the same books?”
“Probably because there used to only be one Heir before Cia and I changed everything,” Gus says with a shrug. “Back then, the Heir was guaranteed to become the future Leader. Having access to the codex would ensure they knew their future role.”
How very fucking pragmatic.
“And the Female Ruler?” I ask, pointing at the book Gus is flipping through.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I never even knew they existed until Cia. But I’m guessing they get their own out of respect, maybe.”
Moving to stand beside Gus, I look through the book with him. It doesn’t take long before we find what we’re looking for.
The Female Ruler’s place is beside the Ruler.
She has power over the Council, and all their underlings.
Her power is second only to the Ruler.
Though the Female Ruler has to wed the Ruler, not all wives are immediately granted the power. It’s up to the Ruler which of his wives he wishes to bestow the honor upon—if any.
“This was definitely made up by some men before feminism was even a thing,” I snigger. “I hope our dear Ruler knows he can never have multiple wives. Agápi would kill them all if he tried to pull that stunt.”
Gus gives me a wry smile. “I’m pretty sure he knows better. After all, Kai gave the power to Cia, we know that.” I nod. “The problem is that it’s not common knowledge.”
This time I have no problem following what he means. “Yeah,” I sigh. “So because it’s a secret, she’s still technically only the Drákon Heir.”
“Exactly,” Gus grins. “Which means that if Morgana chose to take an order from Cia, it’s on Morgana—and her alone.”
As much as I want to, I unfortunately don’t share in Gus’ conviction. Sure, he’s right, it’s Morgana’s responsibility. However, I’m not convinced that Arthur won’t continue to hold my agápi responsible. The worst part is that I can’t say it’s completely misplaced. The Hatt Leader can fault Cia if he’s hellbent on doing so. There’s enough wiggle room, and in this case, that isn’t a good thing.
“Have you read all these codes of conduct?” I ask, needing to focus on something else.
“Of course,” Gus replies immediately. “My dad used to quiz Cia and me on them. Even before we became Protégés, he’d give me fucking tests on the first three Volumes.”
I whistle softly. I’m not surprised, Nikolaos is… was thorough like that. “I guess we shouldn’t expect differently from a man dubbed the Ruthless.”
A dark expression sets on Gus’ face, and it looks like he’s trying to swallow down whatever feelings the mention of his dad has stirred. “No, I guess we shouldn’t.” Gus’ tone is bordering on monotone.
I wonder if I can get away with punching him. While looking at the books, I felt like I got a glimpse of the guy I once knew, but now he’s back to the stranger I don’t know what to do with. I’m going to get fucking whiplash one day.
He runs a hand down his face and closes his eyes briefly. “I miss him,” he finally admits.
“I know,” I say dumbly.
Fuck, what can I even say? Of course, he misses his dad. Even I do. A lot can be said about Nikolaos and his methods, but that doesn’t—shouldn’t—overshadow his loyalty and love for his family. Especially Cia and Gus.
“Look, I don’t know what you think you know about him. But regardless of what you think, my dad was a good man,” Gus says forcefully.
My brows furrow in confusion. “I know he was a good man. He had his faults, we all do. But I’ve never really thought bad of him.” Gus raises a brow, silently challenging that statement. “Okay, sometimes I did. But not towards the end, and not for a long time before that.”
Gus opens his mouth to reply, but before he can the sound of a door slamming loudly reverberates through the otherwise quiet house.
“The fuck?” he barks, sounding as confused as I feel.
The fuck is right.
I palm the knife strapped to my upper arm, ready to pull it out if needed. Gus reaches for the gun hidden in the waistband of his jeans. I’m momentarily surprised he didn’t just put it down on the desk in Kai’s office when we entered. The fucker rarely bothers to hide his weapons when we’re lounging in our new home.
