Page 43 of Warrior's Reign
“I completely suck at this,” she said. “Give me a straightforward fight. What genius decided strategizing while fighting was a good idea?”
She attempted to sound droll, but knew her frustration leaked through. She’d never get better if she couldn’t learn how to talk and chew gum at the same time.
Eredan crouched next to her. His fingertips brushed her cheek, and she turned her head towards him. He gestured.
“I’ll get it in time?” Reign sat up. “Not good enough. I don’t have time. I need to get this now.” Closing her eyes, she took deep breaths, purging herself of frustration. The Silent path meant not allowing these small emotions to sway her. “Will I ever be good enough?”
Fingers under her chin, pressing gently. She opened her eyes. Eredan knelt in front of her, face angled.
“I wish you could talk to me,” she said, giving into frustration. “Who takes a damn Vow of Silence?”
She was tired, and lonely, and feeling more and more like she would never learn what she needed to pass her trials. He was her only real friend, her only real interpersonal contact—and he couldn’t even talk to her. Reign laughed bitterly, blinking fiercely. It figured.
He leaned forward, fingers tightening on her chin. She inhaled sharply as silky fabric brushed across her lips once, then twice, then followed the line of his fingers over the curve of her jaw and up her cheek.
Reign froze. “Eredan?”
He hesitated, then began to pull away. Reign seized his wrist and he stilled, not trying to escape her grip. She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t even see his eyes, the look in them.
But after a moment he shifted again, gently tugging from her grip only to pull her into his arms. She shifted so her back was to his chest and they sat quietly in their circle, the rise and fall of Eredan’s chest bringing her far more comfort than she’d earned.
16
Vykhan traveledto his childhood home. Though his parents were First and SecondAdekhanto the Heir, with quarters in the palace, they spent their off-duty time in the house passed down through his family during generations of palace service.
Like many of the dwellings in the countryside on the outskirts of the city, it was a one-story building composed of several wings that faced an inner courtyard. A wide porch wrapped around the entire home, with sliding doors at various entrances. Built from natural materials, it sat nestled in a district where the only commercial establishment was the corner market stand. One had to walk several miles or take a shuttle to travel to Naidekai.
The Rhyksais preferred this.
He removed his shoes before pushing aside the door, feet silent on the wood hallways. The house was quiet this time of day. Staff would be preparing the evening meal while his parents meditated in their private garden. He walked until he reached the threshold that led to the area of meditation, then sat, waiting for his parents to emerge.
As he waited, he attempted to clear his mind, organize his thoughts. He must choose his words with care, lest his parents think he was seeking an escape from his duties, his oaths. No, he desired no escape. But he felt conflicted—though that was nothing new.
Silence demanded he restore equilibrium, Haeemah demanded the continual pursuit of perfection. He could not continue to be split in two, however. Especially after the abrupt unraveling of his control with Reign.
One breath away from dragging her to the floor and savaging her. His arms burned even now, and he took deep breaths to still the crawling energy along his biceps. It wasnottime.
“Son.”
Vykhan looked up as his mother approached, beautiful in the late prime of her life. Dark hair gleamed in the sunlight, coiled at the nape of her neck. A calm, welcoming smile on her lips, the same lips that could issue a sharp reprimand or a soothing lullaby.
He rose, then bowed at the waist to show his deep respect for a superior as well as his mother.
“It’s rare all three of us are given leave simultaneously,” she said, kissing his cheek.
It was a subtle rebuke. Though he guarded Youngest Daughter, in their absence he was the only member of their line to represent the family.
“My Second is with theBdakhun, and I will not be absent long. I seek counsel.”
She nodded, glancing over her shoulder before leading him away from the threshold. “Come, we’re being rude. Your father will not end his meditations for another fifth.”
In the meantime, they would abide in the family room with tea and the thin, crisp biscuits his mother favored.
They sat at the single low table, and kitchen staff brought a tray and set it down. Aanyah brewed the tea, placing three biscuits on a small plate and setting it in front of him. He waited until she poured, then took a sip and nodded, setting it down.
“This is a fine blend,” he complimented.
“Tesvan returned from the farms in Joroshan two days ago. He said the crop grew especially well this season.”
