Chapter eighteen - I'd let him choke me

"Someone seems angry," Rydan says as I look up from the dining table. He drops onto the bench alongside Link. Freya then grabs the piece of ripped parchment from my hands that I'd vigorously written the same name until there was no capacity left to add more.

"You've put the Golden Thief down on your enemy list?" She questions with a frown. "Solaris, I know many despise him, but I didn't think you would."

I scoff incredulously and nod. Dealing with the Golden Thief twice already has proven I do, very much so.

"I hope you rot in the cells one day," I'd said and meant it.

"And I hope they make room for you too." He'd smirked over his shoulder. "Always glad have an accomplice at my side."

Screwing my lips at the memory, I grab a chunk of chicken and bite into it. He already has an accomplice, which makes more sense as to why no one's able to trap him.

"I don't understand why so many despise him." Rydan flails his drumstick around. "He's practically a king."

"A king of thieving," Link counters, spooning some pottage into his mouth.

Please, not even the role of a jester would suit him.

"And a king I'd happily allow to choke me," Rydan says dreamily through a full mouth of food, causing the three of us to stop what we're doing and stare—stare like we were hoping we'd not heard right.

"You are simply the strangest person I've met, Rydan." Freya shakes her head, muttering, "I can't believe we are the same age."

"I have no regrets in what I say, Frey-Frey."

"Rydan." Lorcan appears from behind, and it'd be a lie if I said I hadn't felt my heart lurch, seeing him just then.

Rydan doesn't take even a second to stand, dropping his drumstick as he turns with a grin. "Lorcy," he says. "Care to join us? We were just discussing how I want to be—"

"Why weren't you at training this morning?"

Thank Solaris Lorcan cut Rydan off before words of being choked by the Golden Thief made their way into the conversation.

"I didn't need to train." Rydan shrugs. "I'm already well skilled."

"Are you now?" Lorcan questions him flatly.

"We can spar right here to prove—"

Lorcan lifts a palm, silencing him. "That won't be necessary." He then looks towards me. "Nara."

I blink, stiffening. He'd not sought me out in almost two weeks, not since we'd spoken by the hallways. We'd only stared each minute I trained, every moment I threw those blades at the practice dummies, and when the queen visited once again.

"Can we go for a walk?" He asks, one hand on his pommel like always. "I would like to talk to you about something."

I nod and feel Freya's hand squeeze my arm. Her excitement is prominent enough I didn't need to look at her. She'd mentioned several times how something was clearly there. I hadn't said a word of my moments with him, and she could still tell.

Sadly, she didn't believe when I'd say there was nothing to tell. She just reads me so thoroughly already when no one else has.

Rising from the bench, I take pursuit, walking out of the mess hall as I fall into slow steps beside him. He's quiet even once we reach the gardens, and the night greets us warmly.

"What is it you wish to speak of?" I ask, letting my hands roam the leaves from the bushes at my side.

"I feel that I owe you an apology." He stops opposite the ponds, and I frown in a silent inquiry. He adds, "For everything. I know how much becoming a Venator means to you, and I've only pushed my luck by letting certain emotions get through."

My hand stops fidgeting, and I pick off a leaf, letting it fall freely. Of all things, I'd not expected an apology even though I should have.

"You should know it is never my intention to make you uncomfortable."

"You never do," I say, lowering my gaze at the fresh cut grass, the smell reminding me of summer right around the corner. "I just—this is all new to me, this life, away from my brothers, away from my previous tasks as a trapper." When I look up, Lorcan's eyes train on me with attentiveness. "In ways, I have always been sheltered. I think that's partly why I always craved something more, why I'm so focused on becoming a Venator."

"Sheltered because of your brothers?"

I shake my head, but in part, he wasn't wrong. "My eldest brother, Idris, he... he was always protective of me, and in turn, it's what kept me so out of everything in life."

"I can see why," Lorcan says. "Emberwell isn't the safest. He was merely doing his job as a brother. One can only wish of a family as such."

Staring up at him, my brows lower pensively. He'd lost his mother and father as well. He'd even spoken about never having any siblings himself. Still, there's an odd presence in his eyes, fury blazing upon those green forest colors.

"I know," I say. "I would never trade my brothers for the world. Everything I do, it's for them."

He gives me a look of peculiarity, causing me to ask, "What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just you don't often see siblings being so close with each other."

I chuckle. "Oh, we've had our fair share of arguments—" Brawls and food fights between Iker and me. "—But they're family, I imagine anyone would do the same."

He takes in my words, looking ahead as a breeze skims the sharp contours of his face. My gaze journeys the leather armor, the same material as my own but his showcase that strength in his arms, legs, torso...

"How did you get those scars?" I ask with a tilt of my head once my eyes land on his hand.

He looks at me, his forehead narrowing. I prompt, "You asked me how I got mine. Now I want to know your story."

Nodding carefully, he brings his hand in front of him. The jagged lines zig-zagged and overlapping lighten under the moon. "An animal attack," he says.

"I hope you don't take offense, but your hand is coated in scars. That animal must have truly mauled it."

He laughs quietly, turning his palm over. "I was sixteen. I'm just thankful I came out alive."

"Was that before you took the Venator trials or after?"

"After," he says. "I took part in the Venator trial when I first came here at fourteen."

"Right, I forgot you were an exception." I raise my brows, kicking the grass.

It's noticeable that he remembers those words he'd said to me that time at the tavern as he shakes his head, gently smiling.

I question whether I should write down another list of the number of times I manage to see Lorcan smile. Except for another question that surfaces as I ask, "What is the final test like?"

No one tells me much of it, even my father had only gone as far as to mention how difficult it is, and not many come out of it alive.

It's a brutal trial that Freya hated bringing up.

"It changes each time," Lorcan inhales, "But it usually involves a series of tests, showing off your skills, teamwork..." He trails off as if perhaps recalling his own trials. "Leaders of other kingdoms come to judge alongside the queen and General."

Except for the Elven king, I want to say but refrain myself, thinking of Leira once more. And when I open my mouth to change subjects, our attention turns to the bushes as a rabbit flitters out of there.

It twitches, springing over to us—me mainly—as it rests by the edge of my boot like it's waiting for something.

Lorcan lets a small laugh escape him. "You seem to fascinate everything and anything."

I stare down at the rabbit circling me and then nod back up at Lorcan. "Sometimes I fascinate the wrong things." Once I'd said a familiar phrase to Lorcan that night, I'd ran out of his chambers. Wherever I went, I could never shake off any creature or vile person.

"Do I count as that wrong thing?"

My gaze falls on his lips, and I wonder what it'd be like to be kissed, what is possible to feel sharing something so intimate.

With him.

Forcing that out of my mind, I look at his eyes. "Depends. Are you a dragon?" Even with my slight chuckle, I can't help but imagine the dragon at the arena. How I'd wanted to help her, or regardless of all my efforts to capture the Golden Thief, I wasn't informing Venators. Many would say I'm a sham. Why should I get the title of a Venator? Why should I keep this all from Lorcan?

"Ironic, wouldn't it be if I were a Venator as well as a... shifter." Mirth tints his words in contrast to the shame in my chest.

"Lorcan," I say a pitch higher as his smile dims. "I have something to say about the Golden Thief. I—" Pausing, my brows scrunch together as I glance at the ground, rumbling beneath my feet.

The rabbit scurries back into the bushes, and ripples swirl across the pond like someone had skipped a rock. Looking at Lorcan, he's scanning the cloudless night skies when bells go off in the castle towers.

Warning bells, shouting and—

An explosion coming from outside the castle walls, where the city emerges. Smoke hits the air and then comes screeches above. Even the screams of people from there resound to where we are.

It’s an attack.

"Shit, shifters," Lorcan whispers as I snap my gaze back to him in horror. He pinches his lips together as if trying to keep his emotions contained. Glancing at me, his expression is no longer relaxed as he says, "Get to the armory, now."

I don't protest as he rushes to the stables, and I race inside, passing the commotion of Venators gathering longbows and spears.

My eyes shift from every corner of the room while Venators push me back as I then make my way through the weapons and yank the sword free off the walls.

Daggers are already sheathed at my thigh, and I can assume Freya and Link had left since they're nowhere to be seen.

I can't imagine the fear Link must have right now, and I can only hope tonight doesn't end in any casualties, but even my mind can't kid itself of that idea.

Inhaling a deep breath, I follow everyone else outside as the gates lower. Distant shrieks echo from every part, and the night air whips at my hair as I charge through the city towards the chaos.