Gawain laughed, waving his hand. “He is far too young for me, Cian. You have nothing to worry about.”
“You broke up with your girlfriend just last week and your boyfriend not too long before that,” Cian scolded.
“That was months ago.”
Cian sighed. “Why don’t you just tell the Blessed you wish to court him?”
“He only has eyes for Koros.” Gawain waved his hand about, running water through his hair. “One day, I’ll pry his eyes my way.”
Another loud bang reverberated from the entrance.
“Gawain!” a female called. “Get your ass out here. You have some knights to send away again. These knights are from Torin’s group.”
“Persistent mother fuckers,” Gawain murmured. “I’m coming. I’m coming. Don’t take too long, Rath, Cian. They’ll use any excuse to board us like Marc did. At least these ones have no legal reason to search us.” Gawain stood, pulling the linen sheet away as he walked toward the door.
Faust jerked his attention to the ceiling until he heard Gawain depart. He turned to Cian, but Cian had his eyes closed.
“I apologize,” Cian said. “I will leave you in peace while you finish.” He stood. “We can spare a few minutes, so we’re not seen leaving too soon after Gawain.”
Faust bit his lip. “You can stay.”
Cian halted, his brows raised, but his lips turned upward into a gentle smile. “As you wish.”
Faust returned the smile. Perhaps he could trust Cian after all. He was an interesting man and seemed to know something he didn’t.
Cian settled again, running water into his hair with his hands. “To be clear,” he said, “I have no intention of pursuing you either. Quite a few make passes at others in the guild. Mostly for a quick fuck.”
Faust blinked, staring off where Gawain left.
Cian chuckled. “Gawain and I haven’t fucked either. Never will. I only allow one man to do such a thing.” A fond expression melted over Cian’s face. “If anyone makes a pass at you, tell me. I will take care of it.”
Faust liked the sound of that. Cian didn’t seem the type to allow harassment to go unpunished.
Cian slid more into the water, relaxing with a sigh.
Faust did the same, dozing after a few minutes. He hoped he could catch some sleep later.
High King.
Faust shot upright.
Cian hummed. “Perhaps sleep is best for you. Don’t want you drowning by accident. It would upset quite a few people. We should get going.”
Faust splashed water onto his face, mumbling his agreement. Aris might start an eternal winter, and there was no telling what Konrad would do. He made a mental note about Cian’s phrasing, though. Cian acted as if he knew what kind of danger lay ahead if someone injured Faust.
Cian stood and disappeared into the dressing area.
Faust waited until the rustle of clothing faded, then stood and grabbed a clean linen sheet. He smiled at the way Cian guarded the door.
Faust dressed quickly, tying his rings back around his neck and clipping the chain with the gemstone back into his bracelet. The veil dispersed under his tunic, and he sighed. At least Alimphis was helping him when he needed it. “I am done,” Faust announced.
Cian turned and examined Faust. “Are you truly all right?”
“Yes,” Faust said. “Just tired.” His mild relief from feeling Ignas and Aris cooled some of his tension, but his body ached as if he hadn’t slept properly in days.
Cian nodded. “Torin’s knights will not give up easily today. Once Gawain comes to us, we’ll have minutes to get lost, and I need to grab some things from my study. We’ll get yours on the way out.”
Faust tipped his head in acknowledgment, unease building in his chest on the short walk to Cian’s study.
Chapter Eight
Cian unlocked the study with quick movements and ushered Faust inside, his gaze over Faust’s head.
Faust stood out of the way, eyeing the heaps of journals. “Will these be all right without you here?”
Cian locked the door, nodding. “Should be fine—” Hurried footsteps interrupted whatever Cian was going to say, forcing the man to listen.
“Cian, open the door!” Gawain said through the door.
“Did they seriously find something, Gawain?”
Gawain grabbed Cian by the shoulders.
Cian moved fast, pressing a gun barrel to Gawain’s chest.
“Ah, sorry,” Gawain said, stepping back. “You need to leave. Now. Take a Volar and Rath with you. We’ll meet up at the next rendezvous point.”
Cian put the gun away. “What am I avoiding?”
“Drokan Knights are roaming the air with Volar. They’re looking for Rath. Torin gave them strict orders to come back with him so he can question him. I bet Torin thinks this will lead to Rhys owing him a favor.”
Cian’s back went rigid. “Why make us leave? They have nothing on us or him.”
“You wouldn’t have risked our lives for Rath if he wasn’t someone important,” Gawain retorted. “Now get out of here. Take what you need.” Gawain dropped a small bag of coin in Cian’s open palm. “You know what to do.”
Cian hooked the small bag to his belt. “Get moving before they suspect you’re hiding something, Gawain. We were never here.”
Gawain winked. He shot Faust a small nod and left, hurrying down the hallway and around a corner.
“Well.” Cian turned back to Faust. “Let’s grab your belongings from your room and lock this one. Only I carry the keys for times like this. It’s against the law to break in without me present. Thus, it gives the guild something to fight unlawful searches like these.” Cian moved through the room with quickened steps, grabbing a few journals and throwing them in a small bag. He grabbed a few maps and a stack of paper and placed them in the bag next. “Please carry these. We can go over them later. You need to see them. We’ll grab a few more in your room, too.”
Faust took the bag, watching Cian gather his own belongings, a nervous twinge traveling up his spine. Word traveled fast—too fast. Faust concentrated on the water magic lingering in the air. The way the moisture rippled suggested water connections.
Cian grabbed ammo, belts, and holsters from a trunk and latched them onto his belts. He was quick to harness the belts in place and tucked a few guns in the holsters, a couple at his back, two at his sides, and one on his thigh. Cian even grabbed a small dagger and some throwing knives. Cian completed the look with a long coat, tufted with fur at the collar, and dark gloves.
Faust pursed his lips. The look was familiar in a way he couldn’t put his finger on—like he’d seen it before. It reminded him of Windilum.
Cian slung a bag over his shoulder, securing it with a belt. “We’ll get more supplies at our stop. Only take what you brought here.”
Faust nodded, following Cian out and back to his room, unlocking it with quick movements. He secured his swords and armor in haste, keeping his back to Cian so he didn’t see his Volant armor. He grabbed his pouches, cloak, and gloves, hesitating to leave the journals.
“Grab the journals,” Cian said, keeping a lookout. “Quickly.”