The Bastard

670 27 15
                                    

"We should've left last night," I woke to Nik standing at the window peering out cautiously. I sat up, scrubbing my hair from my face. My head throbbed and my throat felt raw. I was still on the floor, but Nik had brought some of the furs and blankets down around me.

"Why?" I asked softly.

He snapped his head to me in surprise. "I didn't mean to wake you," he said apologetically.

"You didn't," I said, pushing myself to my feet. "How does it look out there?"

"Like the end of the world as we know it," Nik mumbled.

I joined him at the window, making sure to remain a few steps back just in case anyone cared to glance up. He wasn't far off. Soldiers were swarming the streets, stopping passersby and shouting orders to one another.

"What are we going to do?" I asked.

Nik shook his head. "I'm not sure yet, but I'm working on something."

I looked over at him. He looked exhausted, and I doubted he had slept much. I didn't know how to bring up Gunweld, but I knew we needed to talk about it. The guilt of his death hung heavy in my chest, and I'd been unable to swallow the lump in my throat since the night before.

"Nik, I-"

"It wasn't your fault," he said firmly.

"Regardless," I pressed. "I am sorry."

He shook his head again. His eyebrows were pinched together, and his eyes never left the street. "I can't stop to think about it now," he said.

I nodded. I understood, there were plenty of times I'd opted to drown out my thoughts by driving forward. I wasn't going to bother pushing him to spill his feelings anyway. Right now, I needed him to focus on getting us out of the city.

"We'll move quicker and more inconspicuously as a pair," said Nik. He finally tore his mismatched gaze from the window and spared a look at me. "You should get some more rest. I can't guarantee the next time we'll be able to really stop and catch our breaths."

I sputtered a dry laugh. "That bad?"

The corner of his lip twitched up. "I'm sure I don't look any better," he offered.

"No," I chimed. "Considerably worse in fact."

He cracked a real smile then--a smile that softened his features back to the quippy king he was. I returned his smile, happy to see some semblance of relief in him. My smile faded when his did, and the room held a soft quiet for a time. Outside, muffled shouts continued to ring out, and the voices of the tavern downstairs carried up through the floor. But all of that was only a hum now. We stood side-by-side staring out the window, basking in the last calm we'd have until we made it back to Liptomal. If we made it back, it seemed.

"I'm sorry too, Asha," Nik spoke softly.

My brow furrowed. "For what?"

"We came all this way to make note of Hychorra's power, their numbers. I should've planned more carefully."

"Nik," I said firmly, grabbing his wrist so he'd look at me. "I saw exactly what I came here to see. We came all this way to find out what we were up against, and to learn who is responsible for the Slayers' havoc. Now we know."

Nik looked down at my hand closed around his arm before gently placing his own over it. I gave him a reassuring smile and let my hand drop to my side.

"That reminds me, actually," I said, sitting down on my stripped mattress with a huff. "You said that Bodaro Van Dell wasn't the king."

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Feb 22, 2022 ⏰

Add this story to your Library to get notified about new parts!

A Crown of GoldWhere stories live. Discover now