He leaned against the wall outside the door, looking up and down the quiet hallway.
This is ridiculous. What am I doing?
The answer was obvious—nothing. But there was nothing to do. He had missed his opportunity and was now useless.
From somewhere inside, he heard Gaunt begin to snore.
The next morning Hadrian found Royce sitting on the floor of the cell, his back resting against the wall, one knee up, cocked like a tent pole. His right arm rested on it, his hand hanging limp. He wore only his black tunic and pants. His belt and boots were missing, his feet bare, the soles blackened with dirt. He hung his head back, tilted upward resting against the wall and revealing a week’s worth of dark stubble that covered his chin, cheeks, and neck. Lengths of straw littered his hair and clothing, but on his lap lay a neatly folded, meticulously clean scarf.
He did not look up when Hadrian entered the cell. He was not sleeping—no one could get this close to Royce without his waking, but more obviously, his eyes were open. He stared at the ceiling, not seeing it.
“Hey, buddy,” Hadrian said, entering the cell.
The guard closed the door behind him. He heard the lock slide in place. “Call me when you want out,” he told Hadrian.
The cell had a small window near the ceiling, which cast a square of light where the wall and floor met. Through its shaft, he could see straw dust lingering in the air. A cup of water, a glass of wine, and a plate of potato and carrot stew sat beside the door. All untouched, the stew having dried into a solid brick.
“Am I interrupting breakfast?”
“That was dinner,” Royce said.
“That bad, huh?” Hadrian sat across from him on the bed. It had a thick mattress, a half dozen warm blankets, three soft pillows, and fine linen sheets. It had not been slept in. “Not too bad in here,” he said, making a show of looking around. “We’ve been in much worse, but you know, this was pretty much the last place I was thinking you’d be. I sort of thought the idea was for you to disappear and give me time to explain why you kidnapped the empress. What happened?”
“I turned myself in.”
Hadrian smirked. “Obviously.”
“Why are you here?” Royce replied, his eyes dull and empty.
“Well, now that I know you’re here, I thought you could use some company. You know, someone to talk to, someone who can smuggle you fig pudding and the occasional drumstick. I could bring up a deck of cards. You know how much you love beating me at… Well, you just like beating me.”
Royce made an expression that was almost like a smile. He reached out with his left hand and grabbed up a handful of straw. He crushed it in his fist letting the bits fall through his fingers and watching them in the shaft of light. When the last of it fell, he opened his hand palm-up, stared at it, turning it over and back as if he had never really seen it before.
“I want to thank you, Hadrian,” he said, still looking at his hand, his voice soft, lingering, disconnected.
“Awfully formal, aren’t you? It’s just a card game,” Hadrian said, and smiled.
Royce lowered his hand, laying it on the floor like a forgotten toy. His attention turned vaguely toward the ceiling again. “I hated you when we first met, did you know that? I thought Arcadius was crazy making me take you along on that heist.”
“So why did you?”
“Honestly? I expected you’d be killed; then I could go to the nutty wizard, laugh, and say, See? What did I tell you? The clumsy fool died. Only you didn’t. You made it all the way to the top of the Crown Tower, no complaining, no whining.”
“Did you respect me then?”
“No. I figured you suffered from beginner’s luck. I expected you’d die on the return trip that next night when he made us put it back.”
“Only, again I lived.”
“Kinda made me mad, actually. I’m not usually wrong, you know, about people? And man, you could fight. I thought Arcadius was feeding me a load of crap the way he went on about you. ‘The best warrior alive,’ he said. ‘In a fair fight Hadrian can best anyone,’ he said. That was the telling part—a fair fight. He knew not all your battles would be fair. He wanted me to educate you in the world of backstabbing, deceit, and treachery. I guess he figured I knew something about that.”
“And I was supposed to teach honor, decency, and kindness to a man raised by wolves.”
Royce rolled his head to the side and looked at him. “He told you about me?”
“Not everything, just some of the ugly parts.”
“Manzant?”
“Just that you were there, that it almost killed you, and that he got you out.”
Royce nodded. His face drooped, his eyes stared again, his hand absently scooped up another handful of straw to crush.
Hadrian’s eyes drifted around the cell. Centuries of captives had left a dark smoothness to all the stones a bit higher than halfway up, like a flood line. On the far wall, a year’s worth of old hatch marks scratched a pattern that looked like a series of bound bales of wheat. Up in the window, a bird had built a nest, tucked on the outside corner of the sill. It was empty, frosted in snow. Occasionally, he heard a cart, a horse, or the sound of people in the courtyard below them, but mostly it was quiet, a heavy, dull-gray silence.
“Hadrian,” Royce began. He’d stopped playing with the straw, his hands flat, his stare focused on the wall, his voice weak and hesitant. “You and Arcadius… you’re the only family I’ve ever known. The only two people in this whole world—” He swallowed and bit his lower lip, pausing.
Hadrian waited.
Finally he went on. “I want you to know—It’s important that…” He turned away from Hadrian, facing the wall. “I wanted to say thank you for being there for me, for being here. For being the closest thing to a brother I’ll ever know. I just—I just want you to know that.”
Hadrian did not say anything. He waited for Royce to turn back, to look at him. It took several minutes, but the silence drew the look. When he did, Hadrian glared at him. “Why? Why do you want me to know that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Tell me—no, don’t look at the wall; look at me. Why is it so important that I know this?”
“It just is, okay?” Royce said.
“No, it’s not okay. Don’t give me this crap, Royce. We’ve been together for twelve years. We’ve faced death dozens of times. Why is it you’re telling me this now?”
“I’m upset. I’m distraught. What do you want from me?”
Hadrian continued to stare but slowly began to nod. “You’ve been waiting, haven’t you? Just sitting here, leaning against that wall, waiting—waiting for me to show up.”
“In case you forgot, they arrested me. I’m in a locked cell. There’s not much else I can do.”
Hadrian snorted.