“It suits you.”
“I didn’t—I didn’t know he was alive.”
The words slipped out without my permission. Maybe I meant them more for myself than for Atrius.
It’s not your fault he ended up this way.
You didn’t know he was alive.
Atrius picked up another mug, but he didn’t drink from it, just held it in his lap. “I’ve heard,” he said, “that the Arachessen take their recruits as young children.”
“I was… older than most. They almost didn’t take me because of it. Ten.”
“That is still very young for humans,” he murmured. “Isn’t it?”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
The last day—days? Had it been days?—had been a blur. For the first time since the attack—since finding Naro—I allowed myself to think back to it. Funny how two days ago, the idea of seeing Tarkan dead was so exhilarating. In reality, I’d barely glanced at his body. And I’d paid no attention at all to the rest of Atrius’s takeover. Totally abandoned the role I was supposed to play.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been present—”
Atrius just raised his hand.
“You knew Tarkan,” he said.
It wasn’t a question. Atrius, I’d come to realize, did not ask questions. He made demands or statements. In between, he’d quietly gather information.
Sometimes too much of it.
I hesitated with the tea halfway to my lips. Then took a sip.
The more I showed him, the more he would trust me. I told myself this and ignored the tiny part of myself who found an odd comfort in sharing these things with him.
“I grew up in Vasai,” I said. “I never met Tarkan personally. But… I was a child during the Pythora Wars. I saw him make his takeover.”
I thought back to our attack. To the moment Atrius had Tarkan’s throat, and he still hesitated, giving me that shot.
“You were going to let me be the one to kill him,” I said. “Why?”
His eyes slipped to the fire. “I could see that you wanted it. And you deserved it.”
He said it simply, like it was fact. And I hated that this flooded me with—with—what, affection? Gratefulness?
It shouldn’t have. Yes, he was right, I desired revenge. But that was a vice. It was no great kindness that he had offered me.
Still… it meant something, even if I wished it didn’t.
Atrius set the cup aside and leaned forward, his forearms on his knees.
“You may have gathered by now,” he said, “that my people have had a… fraught history.”
“You mean the House of Blood’s curse.”
Perhaps he flinched at that. Perhaps it was a trick of the firelight.
He hesitated before saying, “That was the start. Nyaxia’s spiteful curse, two thousand years ago. But… my people have endured far more than my kingdom’s suffering.” His face hardened briefly, then his gaze fell back to me. “Humans may believe that vampires don’t understand what powerlessness feels like. And for many, maybe that’s true. But those that follow me do. We understand loss. And we know that it is the worst kind of powerlessness.”
The words were stilted. But the meaning behind them was softer than I knew what to do with.
I cleared my throat.
“You said you wanted to talk business,” I said. “How long do you intend to stay in Vasai?”
Atrius blinked, as if caught off guard by the change of subject.
“Not long,” he replied. “A week or two. Then we will move on to Karisine.”
It stood to reason that Atrius would want to move quickly. We were getting closer now to the Pythora King—his ultimate goal. And Karisine was the next major city-state standing between us and the north.
My brow furrowed at that. I was grateful to have something to think about other than Naro or the past I wasn’t supposed to remember. Battle strategies and espionage were so simple comparatively.
Karisine was a well-fortified city, especially considering that Atrius was losing numbers with every city-state he needed to maintain control of. The idea of taking it by brute force seemed outrageous, and unlike Tarkan, its ruler had not set herself up for such easy assassination. Furthermore, Vasai and Karisine were closely connected by a number of communication routes, far more than Alka had. They’d be prepared for Atrius’s arrival.
I was supposed to be learning how to understand Atrius by now, but I couldn’t fathom how he intended to pull that off.
“It’s going to be… challenging,” I said, choosing my words carefully.