Cain was silent. Cvareh implored him without words. He didn’t want blood on these stones, not Cain’s.
“I look forward to the honor of having one whom our Dono holds in such high esteem among us,” Cain bit out.
The woman knew he was insincere just by her smile. That much was apparent. But she accepted the platitude and returned to Finnyr’s side.
With the tension slightly allayed, for now at least, the other Riders took to the skies, no doubt to report back to Yveun at the first possible moment.
None of the other members of House Xin moved. Once again, they all looked to Cvareh for answers he didn’t yet have. The home he so loved was quickly devolving into a battleground.
Cvareh started in first.
A familiar set of footsteps fell in close behind.
Cain followed him all the way back to his room, stalking like some predator. Cvareh kept his hands in plain sight, relaxed, claws sheathed. He hadn’t spent so much effort on the receiving platform just to flay Cain in private.
Cvareh started for his dresser first thing. He needed new clothes. These were now soiled with the memory of calling Finnyr “Oji.” He looked at the heap of fabric on the floor. He would need to get a new tailor on retainer if he was forced to discard clothing just because he used “Oji” in relation to his brother.
“What was that?” Cain finally spoke from where he leaned against the door.
“I don’t know yet,” Cvareh admitted quietly. He was still trying to figure out all the moving parts at play, and felt blind with no ears or eyes on Rok.
“You just let him come in here—”
“Cain—”
“—don her title and—”
“It was not her title!” Cvareh roared in frustration. “We are Dragons, Cain. We live. We fight. We die. All by each other’s hands. Petra knew that, and she loved it. Eventually, someone was going to kill her. She knew that.” It was why she prayed every day to Lord Xin, Cvareh realized in that instant. “And her death will mean nothing if we throw away our lives and House Xin by challenging my brother.”
“Throw away our lives? You don’t think you can beat Finnryr?”
“Think about this, Cain.” His friend was blinded by his sorrow. But Cvareh could permit it no longer. He had shed his tears and moved on; Cain needed to do the same. “If you or I had challenged, the Riders would have stood for him. Finnyr would approve the duel as Oji.”
His friend cursed, turning away with a quick spin.
“That woman, the new Master Rider, Fae . . . She seems . . . different. Surely you felt it, too?”
“She seemed as much trash as everything else Yveun dredges up,” Cain growled.
“Trash with fearsome power.”
Cain didn’t argue the fact.
“Yveun wouldn’t have sent her unless he believed she could guard Finnyr. Don’t let the lack of beads fool you.”
“She can’t stop all of us.”
“Together? No,” Cvareh agreed. “But that would be an act of all-out war, a disregard for duels. It would be a complete affront that would sway Tam to stand behind Yveun in a way they never had, for a crusade across our land. Future generations may not even remember Xin’s name. If we are to throw all Dragon law aside and bet everything, we better do it when we think there’s a good chance we can win.”
Cain cursed again and slammed his fist against the door. “So we are to sit here and tolerate all this? We are to accept it, bow to it, smile in the face of this affront?”
Cvareh wished he had a different answer for his friend, for himself, for their house. But he didn’t. The truth changed with work, not wishes.
“Smiling or not is up to you. But you will tolerate it, for now.”
“If you insist, Cvareh’Ryu.” Cain reached for the door handle.
“Cain.”
He stopped, but didn’t turn.
“I need you with me. I need you to trust me. I can’t do this without your help.”
Cain sighed softly. When he turned, Cvareh could’ve guessed what he was about to say from his expression alone. “I already told you once today, you have it. Nothing has changed since Finnyr’s arrival. Hopefully, not even your title.”
“Thank you.” Cvareh looked to the window. “I will figure out a way for our family to not just survive, but thrive.”
“For her?”
Cvareh nodded. “For all of us.”
The answer was enough. Cain’s anger dissipated, and he gave a small bow before departing. Cvareh stared at the door long after Cain disappeared through it. There was work to be done, much work. But underneath it all, his friend persisted. It was a relationship Cvareh already knew he would need in the coming days.
Cvareh leaned against his dresser. The weight of it all had become too heavy. He needed the support, if just for a moment, when no eyes were on him and no expectations accompanied them.
Petra would know what to do. But Petra wasn’t there. It was just him, a vicious king, and a gray world far below that was House Xin’s only ally against the rising tide. Cvareh tried to organize his mind and, for the first time, plan his next steps.
A sound summoned him back to reality, and Cvareh walked over to the window. He cracked it, slightly, to better hear the low, sad song that echoed off every rock and crag surrounding the Xin Manor. Cvareh leaned against the window frame, and wondered who else paused to listen to Raku’s dirge as the masterless boco cried it into the wind.
Arianna
Her quarters were more accommodating than she’d expected. Physically, at least.
There was an actual bed. The mattress was a lumpy mess of collected and questionable fabric, but it somewhat held its shape. It was, dare she even think it, almost comfortable when she nested into it far enough.
The world was cooling for winter, but the day’s heat soaked into the stones of the five-towered hall and radiated warmth through the night’s chill. It was practical. Nothing unnecessary, nothing out of place. It was a world Arianna was familiar with and was glad she could still find comfort in.
She’d needed a good night’s rest before this morning.
A sharp rap on her door revealed Florence, promptly at the time she’d informed Arianna she’d be by the night before.
“Good morning, Flor.” Arianna couldn’t stop herself from smiling. It was good to see the girl, to know she was near, even under present circumstances.
“I hope it’s a good morning.” Florence took off her top hat, dusting off some imaginary specks before putting it back on and adjusting it several times over as they started to walk down the stairs. Arianna recognized her nervous tell instantly. “At the very least, we’ll be able to stop agonizing over what state the tribunal will be in.”
Arianna still couldn’t believe the notion. Despite the reasoning behind it, despite the ramshackle location, there was to be a Vicar Tribunal. It was an event she had written off ever seeing in her lifetime.