We navigate three flights of stairs until we reach the top floor, where Kaithar’s office is located. His personal living quarters are adjacent to his office, although he spends most of his free time in Sanzar, where he owns a house.
Kaithar is an avid gardener. Vikurians are brilliant agriculturalists, and the produce that comes out of Southern Vikur is second to none. Utilizing greenhouses, Kaithar has even managed to grow some of the rare fruit and vegetable cultivars from his homeland in cold Tyron.
The door to his office is open. Warm lamplight flickers from inside.
I knock.
“Come in.” Kaithar’s voice is a deep rumble, laced with a hint of his usual wry humor.
We find him sitting in an old, worn armchair in the corner. His expression is strained—the hard line of his jaw betrays the tension in him.
He has visitors.
A Khaturian and a medic.
Sylhara sits across from him, immediately recognizable by her striking blue hair. A mortar and pestle are cupped in her hands, filled with a thick black poultice. An astringent herbal smell fills the room, overwhelming my heightened senses.
Vinciel’s here, too. He leans against the wall, arms folded, a frown crossing his elegant features.
It’s no surprise that the Khaturians have answered my summons so quickly. Just as I was able to cross the mountains with Finley in my arms, using the power of my magically transformed body, they’re able to use magic to travel vast distances quickly.
It’s nothing short of a miracle that we were able to hold them back for so long. I put it down to the sheer grit and tenacity of the men that serve under me.
My gaze drops to the wound on Kaithar’s forearm. It’s been covered in an astringent black poultice that makes my eyes water.
Kaithar’s dark gaze comes to rest on Finley and I. He tips his head respectfully. “Finley. I’m happy beyond hope that you’re safe and well.” He gives me a meaningful stare. I know what he’s thinking. For his sake, as well as yours.
Finley tips her head in acknowledgment. In spite of what’s happened to her, she’s amazingly calm, radiating a perfect mixture of restraint and concern. “Corvan told me about what happened. I don’t think you’ll lose yourself to the madness of the lycan, Kaithar. You’re far too intelligent and strong for that. Besides, he needs you, so you aren’t allowed to succumb, all right?”
“My lady.” Kaithar offers Finley a wry smile. “Now that you’ve said so, I obviously can’t succumb. I appreciate your concern, but between Sylhara and Ciel here, I’m sure I’ll be taken care of.” He chuckles; a deep, rumbling sound that betrays none of his worry. “I’m probably too stubborn to lose to a stupid lycan-curse, anyway. Besides, your future husband here would drag me back from Hecoa’s domain by force if he had to. The only person I know that’s more stubborn than I am is him.”
I roll my eyes at Kaithar. “I don’t know whether that’s a compliment or an insult.”
“You know I hold your stubbornness in the highest esteem, Your Highness.”
I almost want to cuff Kaithar over his head for his sarcasm, but I refrain. The man’s injured, after all, and a lycan bite is no laughing matter. If not for Finley’s serene fortitude and Kaithar’s insistent good humor, I’d find myself in a disastrous mood right now.
I turn to Ciel and Sylhara. The physician and the one the Khaturians call Kiza are staring at Finley and I with unabashed curiosity.
I feel a prickle of irritation as I glare back at them. “You will cure him. There is no alternative. Report.”
A chasm threatens to open up inside me. The possibility of losing Kaithar to the affliction of the lycan is unthinkable.
And to think that when we first met, all those years ago, we despised one another.
Now he’s my loyal commander. My good and cherished friend. He’s gotten me out of a sticky situation more often than I can remember.
And I still haven’t gotten the chance to make right the injustices my family perpetrated on his family.
Kaithar is the rightful heir to the Bareem Estate. I’ve long wanted to seize those lands back and return them to him, but Kaithar’s the one that convinced me to wait.
Wait until the emperor dies. Your father surely doesn’t have much time left in him. The situation in Vikur is still delicate, and I don’t want my people to suffer any more than they already have. Have patience, my brother.
Once again, Kaithar was one that tempered my impatience.
But now, my impatience is more than justified.
Recognizing my mood, Ciel offers a placating gesture. “He took your blood. That’s a start. The magic…” he gives Sylhara a wary side-eye, because Ciel has always been cautious around magic, “that resides in you will slow down the effects of the lycan curse. This poultice of Blackroot and Elfrey neutralizes the burning acid. But ultimately, he needs to go to Niize urgently. For a purification ritual.”
“Purification?” I arch one eyebrow in curiosity. I’ve never heard of such a thing.
“We’ve existed alongside the lycan for thousands of years,” Sylhara says calmly, her tone cryptic, as if she knows something incredibly important that we don’t. “In the mountains, getting bitten by a lycan isn’t unheard of. They’re the Goddess’s beasts, released from the underworld against her will. Over time, they’ve adapted to the mortal world. And we don’t seek to eliminate their magic, just harness it. Some of our warriors yet live… transformed.”
I don’t like the sound of it, but who am I to argue? “And one who undergoes this purification ritual… can go on to live normally afterwards?”
“In most cases, yes.”
I turn to Kaithar. “Do you have any concerns? Objections?”
Wearing an enigmatic expression, he shrugs. “I don’t want to turn into a yellow-eyed, frothing-at-the-mouth lunatic. I wouldn’t do that to you, Corvan. Couldn’t bear the thought of you having to be the one to put me down. I’ll go up into the mountains. It isn’t even a question.”
Around the edges of his dark irises, I can see a faint ring of golden. The lycan magic’s already starting to infiltrate his body.
My throat grows tight, turning my voice hoarse. “Then go. Don’t waste time here. The battle plans are drawn. The captains and lieutenants have their orders. And this time, the Khaturians fight alongside us.”
Kaithar chuckles softly. “Times change, eh?”
“Times change, Kaith.” I exchange a quick glance with Finley, who is perfectly composed; expectant, curious. Right now, she feels both vulnerable and volatile, with the promise of immense untapped power lurking beneath her calm surface.
My focus returns to Kaithar. I lean forward, dropping my voice so only he can hear. “I’ll end this madness once and for all. Whether it’s my father’s doing, or that of someone who seeks to usurp him, I’ll destroy them. They dared to desecrate our dead. They dared to lay their hands on my betrothed. And you’ve been gravely hurt.”
Kaithar gives me a long, appraising look. Then he nods in approval. “I can see that you’re furious, my brother, but no matter what you find in the capital, don’t ever forget what we fought for.”