“No idea. I just know that we’re all veterans of a fucked-up world. No one gets out without their scars. Some of us just hide them better than others.”
She nodded, then kissed him. “I’m sorry for the ones I gave you.”
“You were trying to protect yourself. I get it.”
“But it doesn’t make it right.”
“Nor does it make it wrong. It just is, my lady.”
Ember shook her head and held him. And as she lay there, she prayed for the knot in her gut to loosen. For her premonition to be wrong.
Bastien had suffered enough. She’d buried enough of her family.
She refused to bury him, too. And yet the vision remained.
It was Bastien lying in his casket.
CHAPTER 14
It took them longer than expected to route The League and Andarions and get Jullien home. Bastien was more than frustrated as it seemed that the gods of Kirovar wanted the injustice to stand and for Barnabas to rule on a stolen throne.
But it did allow him more time with Ember and Rian, and to plan an attack that would work. So he savored his every minute with her and made sure to double-check everything so as not to risk her or her sisters.
Now they were back at the Gort base to celebrate the birth of Jullien’s son Vidar. And what a strange gathering of a motley band they were, too.
“Congratulations!” Bastien clapped Thrāix on the back as he held his infant son, Admon Simon Eteocles Sparda, in his arms. “You really planning to call him Sphinx?”
The expression on Thrāix’s face said that he’d gone a few months without a bowel movement. “Not by choice. But Mary outranks me in all things, so…”
Bastien laughed. He well understood that. “Beats Florian,” he whispered.
Thrāix burst out laughing. Sobering, he tucked the sleeping infant under his chin. “I’m just glad I made it back and that Mary’s here, with him.”
Yeah. It’d been close. Thrāix had been trapped in the bombed Andarion palace with Jullien and Darling, and Mary had been captured by their enemies for a short time, and assumed dead. They were both lucky to have survived their ordeals.
Bastien clapped him on the back. “So you gonna pull a Caillen and retire?” After the palace had gone down on his wife, children, and sisters, Caillen had decided that he was through fighting. He’d handed in his resignation to The Sentella and retreated with them to the main Exterian palace, where he intended to wait out the rest of the war.
Thrāix gave him a wry stare. “Please,” he said drily. “Mary would never let me go that long without babysitting Jullien.” Because Mary’s sister was Ushara, and so she sent her husband along to ensure that Jullien didn’t do anything completely stupid—like Bastien would do.
Unira came over to them and smiled. “So, Bastien … when will I be performing a wedding ceremony for you?” She cut a meaningful gaze to Ember.
Little did she know what a kick to his stones that was. “Not up to me, Holy Mother. I’m willing. The bride has better sense than to tie herself to the likes of my worthless hide.”
She tsked. “Well, I’m here anytime you two change your minds.”
Bastien stepped back as another herd of Ushara and Mary’s relatives swarmed Thrāix and the baby. He couldn’t believe how many months had gone by as they fought The League and he tried to find a chance to get at Barnabas.
It was as if some unholy power protected him.
Sighing, he retreated to a corner where he could watch Ember holding Jullien’s newborn son, Vidar. And that brought its own ache to his chest as she cooed and made the baby laugh. He’d have given anything to see her playing with his child like that.
His gaze went to Florian, who was in the corner with Vasili, gaming. The two of them had hit it off immediately.
And as he glanced about, Bastien wanted to be content with what he had. He wanted to let it go and forget the past.
He couldn’t.
I can’t live knowing Barnabas is alive and they’re not.
It was that simple. His uncle had bought his happiness at the expense of Bastien’s entire family. Because while he was grateful to be here with his new family, he was all too aware of the members who weren’t here.
And why.
Quin should have his son with Florian. And they should be gaming. Lil should be nagging him about Ember. His mother should be fussing about his attire. His father over his lackadaisical attitude and long hair.
No, he owed it to them. He couldn’t let himself forget that.
Trajen, Jullien’s boss and the leader of the Gorturnum Nation, came over to him. “Breathe.”
Bastien shook his head at the Trisani pirate as he took an ale from Trajen’s hand. “I am breathing.”
“Well, if it helps, The Sentella have been calling for you.”
“Have they?”
“Check your link.”
Bastien did, and Trajen was right. “Damn, boy, you got some scary powers.”
“Yeah, I know.”
As Bastien moved to return the call, Trajen drifted over to Thrāix.
It was a recorded message from Syn with intel Bastien had been waiting on. A slow smile curved his lips.