Chapter 5
He rode hard through the night and into the day, exhausting the horse until it plodded into the industrial town of Tinken. Dusk had pulled the smoke from the mining stacks down into Tinken’s streets, cloaking Niko’s arrival.
He hadn’t been sure, at first, whether to come at all. Oh, Amir had burned his cottage, but the destruction at the hands of the Cavilles had begun long before that. It had all begun in the Stag and Horn with a prince offering him a bag of coin. From that moment on, Vasili had toyed with him like he wasn’t a man, like he was a dog. A beaten dog, just as Amir had called him.
The burning of the cottage had been the last damned lash of the whip.
Niko was going to remind Vasili how he was very much alone now, in a world that would kill him for the poison in his blood.
Vasili would be in Tinken, because the fucking prince knew Niko would come. Just like he knew Niko would return to the palace eventually. He just didn’t know Niko was coming with a rage in his heart as hot as the fire that had taken his home.
He dismounted outside the inn they’d visited all those months ago and shoved through the door inside, finding it as packed as usual. Nobody noticed the blades he’d tied to his back or the blood and smoke about his clothes. Adrian spotted Niko’s approach, narrowed his eyes, and leaned over the bar. “No trouble now, eh? What do you want?”
“The man I came here with before—”
“Upstairs, first door on the right. If you kill him, you clean it up.”
Niko’s smile couldn’t have been the sanest of smiles, given how Adrian recoiled.
The door to Vasili’s room opened, unlocked. But the prince wasn’t inside. His grey cloak was tossed over the chair, so he was nearby.
Niko grabbed the armchair by the bed and dragged it to the window, then shrugged off the swords, rested them against the chair, and settled into its embrace. From that position, he watched the door.
He didn’t have long to wait.
The door opened with an aged creak. Vasili strode in and came to an abrupt halt. He lifted his chin like he did every time he was about to launch into some lashing remark.
He’d lost the fancy clothes somewhere and wore plain trousers, knee-high boots, and a billowing white shirt, the kind with ruffles at the open V-neck. A make-do patch of grey fabric covered his scarred eye. The plain clothes did little to diffuse his royal air of superiority.
“You knew I’d come,” Niko said. His voice scratched, made rough by smoke and exhaustion. “You knew I’d come to this tavern. That’s why you’re here in this one, instead of the half a dozen others nearby.” Of course he fucking knew. If the guard hadn’t mentioned Amir, Niko might even have thought Vasili sent them, just to make damned sure he had nothing left either, and of course he’d trudge after Vasili, like the faithful dog he was.
Vasili stepped to the side, heading toward a sideboard. Did he have a blade stashed inside? “What happened?”
Niko gripped the chair’s arms beneath his fingers. “Guess, Your Highness. Look at the blood and smell the smoke, and fucking guess what happened.”
Vasili turned his back on Niko—a dangerous thing to do considering he must have sensed how Niko itched to spring from the chair and deliver the kind of justice he should have given Vasili long ago.
Glass chinked, and when Vasili turned around again, he held two drinks.
The prince approached, boots striking the floor. Stopping in front of Niko, he offered a glass.
Niko swallowed. His throat was parched. He’d stopped to drink from a stream only once. But taking the drink seemed an acceptance, like admitting nothing had changed. Vasili still stood over him, wielding all the control, and Niko still looked up to him.
Vasili stiffened again, tilted his head, and then set the glass on the bedside table, within Niko’s reach. He sipped his own drink, eyeing Niko over the glass. His gaze dropped to the bloody blades leaning against the chair and then back to Niko’s face.
“I didn’t know you’d come. I chose this tavern because it’s the only place I know outside of Loreen.”
“Fucking liar.”
“What is it you think I’ve done, Nikolas? I did not burn your cottage. I did not force you to ride south. What terrible crime have I committed to earn your ire?”
“Would you like a fucking list?” He wasn’t going to voice all the ways in which Vasili had screwed him. The prince knew them all, he just wanted to hear them be acknowledged.
“Had you stayed in the palace, this would never have happened,” Vasili said, sounding like a brat who hadn’t gotten his own way.
“Stayed?” Niko frowned. “Nothing could have made me stay. Fire was too good an end for that place. I’m glad it’s ashes.” Niko pushed from the chair, scooped up the drink, and downed it in one. It burned, but in a way that warmed his empty soul. Knowing the palace was probably a ruin relieved some of the weight from his shoulders. He’d been living in its shadow all year. But at least he hadn’t been living in it. Vasili had. “Did you burn the palace?”
“Why would I?”
“Because the damn place is cursed.”
“The people are cursed.”
Niko held the prince’s glare. Vasili gave nothing away, just stared back, as emotionless as a rock. He hadn’t denied it, though.
Striding around the prince, Niko grabbed the wine bottle and poured himself a fresh glass. He downed it in a single gulp. Vasili could have set the fire, but so could any one of the remaining Cavilles, and did it really matter? The palace was gone, and so was his cottage.
Vasili watched him warily. He’d eased to the side, keeping the door within sprinting distance.
Niko wasn’t going to hurt him. He’d liked the idea of it, but now he was here, hurting Vasili changed nothing from the past, and there’s where all the pain truly came from. Now the anger had waned, he was just bone tired.
He approached the prince and raised his glass. “To destroying your prick of a brother.” The third glass went down as smoothly as the first. Vasili silently observed and judged and despised, like he always had.
Niko dropped onto the edge of the bed and lay back, not caring he lay on Vasili’s bed for the night. The prince could sleep on the floor. He just needed to rest a while, just think… just… close his eyes and go somewhere the Cavilles couldn’t reach him.
If only they didn’t chase him in his dreams too.
Chapter 6
Niko woke in the morning still sprawled across the bed, fully clothed and stinking of horse and blood. A clattering sounded in the room. He winced into the daylight.
A serving girl curtsied beside a tin bath. “Paid for by your companion, sir. Leave your clothes by the door, and we’ll see they’re cleaned and dried.”
She left, and Niko stared at the steam swirling off the bath. He staggered to his feet and crossed the room, half expecting to see snakes slithering beneath the water. It seemed the sort of thing Vasili would tease him with. Although, Vasili had, in the past, proven he could think of others as well as himself. After whipping Julian, he’d made sure the soldier had enjoyed a bountiful breakfast and day off. Payment for pleasures rendered. If Vasili couldn’t pay by coin, he’d buy loyalty another way. Was that what this bath was? Payment for joining him?