Page 29 of A Sword of Ice
They should have never become friends. By all means, they should have avoided each other because they came from different backgrounds. But they shared something similar that drew them towards one another. An innate sense of wanting more, of having an urge to play, fuck, and fight. It was ingrained in their blood and it had brought them together, making them inseparable ever since.
“Fuck off, Darah.” Clay scowled, shoving his hands into his pockets. The black fur cloak he wore did nothing to stave off the cold winds. It pierced through his rich, silk clothes. Garments he kept from his previous life that were still intact.
Julius had scoffed at the sight of them.
He’d always been more rugged, content in wool instead of silk, in leather and steel armor instead of velvet robes and golden jewelry. He was a hunter by nature, and that posh life missed by Clay and the other nobles, like the prince and the king, didn’t make sense to Julius.
Sometimes he felt like the king was fighting so he could again have a feast at his table and a golden, gilded palace, instead of to save their race from starvation and turmoil.
But who was Julius to say any of that aloud?
“Try and keep up, little lord.” Julius used the nickname because he knew Clay hated it. When his father had died years before the wars, he’d been crowned the High Lord Clay Valentino, favored cousin of the Prince of Seelie. “Our prince needs information, and we’re meant to collect.” With that being said, he started forward, long strides swallowing up the space between one building and the next. They hid through the shadows, catching glimpses of other hiding faces within broken down buildings.
Poor, frightened faces blurred as he ran, and he tried not to clench his fists or break down walls in his anger.
He knew poverty. He’d been born the lowest of the low in the Sapphire Court, living off game he hunted in Nach es Forest, sometimes fighting the little people of the wood for scraps. He’d had a hard childhood, until he’d been found by soldiers of the Seelie King’s army and recognized for his Mana given strength.
They’d taken him in, trained him, given him purpose. To protect. To help others like himself.
Seeing his people reduced to hiding in moldy buildings pissed him off.
They deserved better.
Julius stopped just at the mouth of an alleyway that led off into a main street. Pressing his back to a wall, he peered to the side. The marching had stopped a few hours ago, the ground ceasing to tremble, but there were still soldiers patrolling the streets.
Clay pressed to the other side of the wall, watching in silence.
The soldiers were gathered in clusters, knocking on doors of what looked like homes and rented apartment buildings. When no one answered, they kicked in doors and stormed inside, hauling people out into the cold.
Julius’ blood boiled as he watched them herd everyone together. They tore hysterical children away from their mothers, lining them up barefoot in the snow. Then, the soldiers went down the line of people, pressing iron to visible parts of their skin.
Those who didn’t move were allowed back inside.
Those who flinched…
His teeth gritted as he watched the iron come down against a bare arm. Julius heard the hiss, saw the flinch, and a moment later the glamor fell to reveal an Unseelie Fae with bright yellow hair and green skin that crawled with vines.
There was shouting, resistance as they tried to tug him away, the slide of a blade, the swing of the sword.
A head toppled to the ground, buried in the snow.
He couldn’t take his eyes off it.
Yellow and bright red.
Hair and blood.
“Julius,” Clay hissed.
The harsh sound of his whisper cut Julius out of his thoughts, making him realize he was gripping the side of the building, crumbling brick into his fists. He opened his palms and let the debris drop.
Rage soared through him, the price he paid for using even the slightest bit of magic. Sometimes the anger was bearable and other times it was blinding. Overwhelming. It took over every other emotion and sense in his body until it was all he knew.
He felt the rage building, and only a part of it was because of the vibrating magic within his chest. The whole of it was because of what he witnessed as the minutes drug on.
Fae taken, killed without mercy. Humans were spared, even though some of them cried for the Fae they’d known as neighbors, friends, parents,lovers.
He tore his gaze away and found Clay staring at him, as if the scene beyond the alley was too horrifying for him to ingest and Julius was the only safe option while blood spilled around them.
