Nightfall: Book Two of the Chronicles of Arden (46 page)

“You don’t have to always be so stoic,” Gib murmured. “It’s okay to crumble. I’m here—there are people here to hold you up. People who love you.” With a tentative hand, he reached out to cup the side of Joel’s face. “Please don’t shut me out. Let me help you.”

Devastating blue eyes rose, wavering but able to hold Gib’s. Joel stared at him with a measuring gaze and Gib could sense the mage’s conflict. Joel parted trembling lips—surely he meant to say something profound—but a moment later, his demeanor went frigid. Joel locked his jaw and looked away.

Gib let his hand fall. The opportunity had passed. Joel’s rejection stung like a deep gash in Gib’s flesh, but he could do nothing else, could utter no words, to change the other man’s mind.

I’ll wait. He just needs time
.

The study door flew open, jarring Gib from his reverie of misery. Koal walked into the room, his left arm in a sling, leaving him with only one hand to carry his rucksack. Gib jumped to assist the seneschal. The distraction helped hold the tears at bay.

“You don’t have to carry that for me, you know. I’m no cripple.”

Gib grinned at his mentor as he readjusted the pack slung over his shoulder. “You could have fooled me with that sling.”

“Laugh it up.” Koal groaned as they made their way through the palace halls. “Marc could hardly speak for laughing so hard when he discovered the King and I would have matching scars.”

A chuckle escaped before Gib could reel it in. “He has a point. Opposite shoulders, but I’ve thought it myself.”

A small smile peeked at the corner of Koal’s mouth, a welcome sight after the somber mood he’d been in earlier. “I suppose. Rishi jumped at the opportunity to declare himself the ‘handsome twin.’ It’s good to see neither of them matured since I left.”

Gib didn’t have the heart to tell his mentor the truth about how much Marc and King Rishi had suffered in Koal’s absence. Maybe there would be a time to inform the seneschal, but today was far too soon. Koal needed to focus his attention on restoring order to the High Council and reigning in that imbecile, Neetra.

Their conversation went stale as the council room doors loomed ahead, but the silence was companionable. Gib was content to let the calm envelop him. His thoughts touched on Joel again. He recognized that the mage wanted space, but Gib also knew Joel well enough to realize he would lock his emotions inside until he burst. Surely there must be something Gib could do.
If he won’t talk to me, perhaps someone else will have better luck
. Nawaz and Diddy came to mind. Joel had always been close with them.
I can’t just idly watch as he suffers
.

“Oh, there you are. Back on your feet, are you?”

Gib stiffened as Neetra Adelwijn’s jarring voice called down the corridor.

Koal turned to face his younger brother, and Gib could hear the seneschal utter a grunt. “You’d have seen me on my feet sooner, had you come to visit me.”

Neetra waved a dismissive hand as he approached, and Gib noticed with dismay that Liro trailed the High Councilor. “I would have heard if you were on death’s door. I received no such message, therefore, I assumed you were recuperating.”

Gib could feel himself sneering. He wished Koal realized what sort of trouble Neetra had made while the seneschal was gone. If only Koal knew how viciously his brother had goaded King Rishi or his attempts to sweet talk the members of the High Council into making unsavory decisions.

Neetra nonchalantly pushed onto another topic. “There have been whispers that you’ve consented to allow Nawaz and Heidi to marry. Is it true?”

The air around them went still, and Gib didn’t have to look at his mentor to know he was livid. Koal’s good hand balled into a fist at his side. “You were missed at Cenric’s funeral.”

Neetra didn’t even bat an eye. “Missed? I doubt that.”

“He was honored as a hero. He gave his life for Arden. The High Councilor should have been there to pay his respects.”

“My time is often not my own. You know that. I had a previous engagement.”

Gib gritted his teeth when he caught Liro leering. Though Gib hadn’t known Cenric well, he knew enough to understand Neetra’s flippant attitude was entirely unacceptable.

“So,” Neetra continued. “About Nawaz and Heidi—”

Koal pressed his lips together. “This is hardly the time or place to discuss this.”

“You’ve been avoiding this discussion for three years, brother. It’s most unbecoming for a man of your position to be so noncommittal. What’s your answer?”

The seneschal clenched his jaw and stole a look around the corridor. Gib imagined he might be looking for an escape route and didn’t fault him. “I’ve told you before, Nawaz may have Heidi’s hand if—and only if—he asks for it properly. I won’t force my daughter into an unhappy marriage no matter how badly she may think she wants it. I’ve decided to grant him permission to court her, but that doesn’t mean there’ll be a wedding any time soon.”

The victorious spark in Neetra’s eyes made Gib’s stomach flip. Even Liro’s dull expression lifted in surprise. Koal turned his face away, conflict lacing his features.

Gib’s stomach flopped like a fish out of water. Nawaz had been fretting over this very thing not long ago. He’d even begged Marc to send him to the border to avoid marriage. At the time, Gib had been unsure Koal would ever consent anyway, but clearly something had changed the seneschal’s mind. Did Heidi know? Nawaz certainly didn’t, and Kezra— Gib couldn’t breathe.
Kezra needs to know
.

“It will be her choice to accept or not,” Neetra said. “I care not who the dolt marries, but it’s high time he does. My generosity can only extend so far. It’s time for him to be out from under my roof.”

The seneschal frowned and countered Neetra on the wisdom of pushing a marriage onto someone who wasn’t ready. Gib’s rational mind knew he should probably listen and try to glean more details from their exchange, but all he could think about was Kezra. He could do nothing to help Joel, but he could try to help her. He glanced around, wishing for the life of him that he could excuse himself from just this one meeting. Surely Koal would allow it if he could conjure up a good enough reason.

It wasn’t meant to be. Gib could see the King and his bodyguard arriving. The meeting would be called to order shortly. There wasn’t going to be a chance for Gib to ask to leave, let alone receive permission.

King Rishi’s mood plummeted as he drew closer, his neutral features hardening. He cast a smoldering glare at Neetra but offered no words. Gib barely spared the King or Aodan a glance as he tried to remember if Kezra would be on duty that evening.

“You look awful, Aodan.” Neetra’s voice was cool, void of any care or sympathy. “You’re not ill, are you?”

Gib raised his eyes from the floor and realized Neetra was right. Aodan looked like hell. With dark rings beneath his eyes and a severe, gaunt look about his face, he reminded Gib of someone who hadn’t slept in days.

The bodyguard curled his nose. “Why don’ ya sit with me today an’ find out?”

Neetra’s utter disgust would have been comical if not for the circumstances. “Repulsive! If you bring some disease into the council room and infect the rest of us, I feel you should be held accountable!”

Liro had remained quiet until now, but something in their conversation must have captured his attention. He flashed a smug smile at Koal. “You know, Father, I didn’t see the Derr at Ambassador Cenric’s funeral. Will he receive a tongue lashing as well or were we purposely sparing the envoy’s wife from having to tolerate his presence?”

The King turned sharply, mouth open and nose curled, but Koal responded first. “Aodan answers to the King alone. Worry not about him, Liro.”

Cruel contempt lingered in Liro’s eyes. “I don’t worry for him, believe you me. I’m simply at a loss as to how someone could look so tired while their duties remain so light.”

King Rishi had had enough. “
You spoiled, petulant child!
What would you know of work? You certainly have no idea when to hold your tongue!”

If Liro was intimidated by the scolding, he didn’t show it. Cool as ice, he offered a sly response. “Apologies, Highness. I only meant that perhaps your guardian should consider taking a holiday if he’s overwhelmed. Maybe a trip to visit family is in store? The mountains, perhaps?”

Neetra guffawed, and the King reeled like he’d been struck across the cheek. His dark eyes speared Liro much like someone might view a troublesome insect. Aodan scowled, bristling where he stood.

Gib didn’t understand the slight. Aodan was from the island of Derry. He wouldn’t have any family on the mainland. And what was wrong with the mountains? Did the highborns look down on people from the mountain range? It seemed absurd to Gib, but then, Liro’s viewpoints always had been skewed.

Koal leaned closer to Liro, his voice a menacing shiver on Gib’s spine. “I don’t know what you think you’re trying to prove, but if you don’t keep that unruly mouth of yours shut, then I’ll do it for you.”

Liro’s eyes were unreadable as he bowed curtly to King Rishi. For the moment, it seemed he was done wiggling his rotten tongue. The other councilors were beginning to show up. Neetra made some small gesture to the King before dismissing himself, and both High Councilor and his understudy made their way into the council room.

Gib thought to go take his seat as well, before the hallway became congested. However, before he could take even one step, Koal’s hushed voice caught his attention. “How
was
everything, Aodan? Are you all right?”

The bodyguard nodded. “Aye. It must’ve been a distant cousin ya saw. No one seemed to know anythin’.”

Gib’s brow furrowed. So Aodan
did
have family in Arden? What happened to his cousin? Gib opened his mouth to ask but thought twice when the King’s stony glare landed on him. Perhaps this was one of those things he was meant to keep secret. He supposed it would be easy enough, seeing as he had no idea what was going on.

Under different circumstances, he might have pondered the conversation further, but in the moment, he was entirely preoccupied with letting Kezra know what he’d overheard regarding Nawaz and Heidi’s marriage proposal. Gib went into the meeting with a heavy mind, knowing he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything being said.
 

The cold wind whipped against Gib’s face before he could pull his cloak tighter. Standing at the door outside the Galloway estate, he tried to convince himself that he’d come too far to turn back now. Neetra and Koal’s conversation kept replaying through his mind. The High Councilor had spoken so casually, as if this marriage didn’t stand to ruin Nawaz. Kezra hadn’t been mentioned, but Gib knew the words would have cut her deep.

Gib’s mind wandered to the task ahead. Kezra was sure to not take his news well, but he wanted her to find out from a friend, not from a gossiping courtier or a frenzied Nawaz. His stomach soured. Nothing about this was fair. Why should anyone be forced into marriage?

The frigid wind stung his cheeks, but dread held him back. How could he possibly hope to offer comfort regarding something he knew so little about? It wasn’t as though he’d ever been in the position of having to marry and, frankly, the one romantic relationship he’d experienced was currently in shambles. He could do little more than be a willing shoulder to lean on. He owed Kezra that much. After all, she’d listened to his woes. Reluctantly, he took the cold knocker in his hand and banged the door three times.

After a moment, the door opened and Gib was met with a warm smile and kind eyes. Tamil Malin-Rai bore a striking resemblance to her elder sister, with rich brown skin, emerald eyes, and raven hair. Wrapped in a colorful sari, she ushered Gib into the house before the cold could drift inside.

Despite being the lady of the estate, Tamil answered the door herself. Gib had to admit it was a bit strange, but then again, none of the Malin-Rai children he knew seemed to fit the mold of “proper” lords and ladies. Tamil’s marriage last summer had set a lot of tongues wagging. The fact that the daughter of Lord Anders Malin-Rai had snuck off to marry in secret had been nothing short of scandalous. Of course, her then-suitor, Tular Galloway, hadn’t been Anders’ first choice for marriage—hell, Tular wouldn’t have been even his
last
choice. Regardless, the wedding had happened, and now Tamil and Tular lived here, away from Anders and away from the palace.

“Gib Nemesio, welcome,” Tamil greeted.

He bowed his head. “Thank you. I’m here to see Kezra, if she’s in.”

“She is. I’ll go fetch her.”

Gib’s face burned. “Oh, you don’t have to—”

She smiled and his face only scorched hotter. Who else was she going to send? She didn’t employ any servants.

Gib stammered. “Uh, I mean, thank you.”

Her beam only grew wider as she backed away. Gib was left to stand awkwardly in the foyer as Tamil went to get her sister. He removed his dripping cloak and hung it over one arm, unsure where to put it. Cool rivulets of what was once snow drizzled down his temples and neck. With a groan, he ran his hands through his mop of curls, hoping to dislodge any remaining slush.

“Gib? What are you doing here?”

Gib spun around in time to see Zandi descend the grand staircase. Gib nearly slipped in the puddle of melted snow around his feet, and Zandi giggled in response. A strange mix of relief and dread churned in Gib’s stomach. It was far too easy to be swept away by Zandi’s glimmering eyes and giddy smile, but Gib couldn’t share the merriment. Every time he thought he could be happy to see Kezra’s brother, he inevitably thought of Joel and despair washed over him anew.