Page 87 of The Last Syphon

After Inara had won the Shielder Trials and taken Larissa’s place as Prince Walder’s personal Shielder, Larissa had moved down the ranks. Her assigned Charge was now Lord Villani.

Inara frowned. “Since when do you give a shit about kingdom politics?”

“I don’t. What I give a shit about is two people who would love nothing more than to jam a knife in your eye spending time together. Especially after the shit Larissa said to you this morn.”

He had a point. Larissa didn’t know what Inara was hiding, but the woman knew she was hiding something. She didn’t need Larissa poking and prodding into her business. And Lord Villani? Well, that man had an axe to grind and would have loved nothing more than to strip Inara of her title and take it for himself.

“Yeah, you make a good point. But there’s shit all we can do about it.”

“I know, and that’s what concerns me.”

“We just need to be careful.” It was easier said than done. “No suspicious behaviour.”

He snorted and stretched out his body, making himself comfortable on the floor next to his atrocious drawings. “We’re thieves. We’re suspicious by our very nature.”

“True.” She chuckled. “Let’s just assume we’re always being watched, and act accordingly. No one can discover our plan to break into the Head Venerable’s chambers to steal a book about Syphons. That kind of information will have dire consequences in Larissa’s or Lord Villani’s hands.”

Felix nodded. While cheery and playful by nature, he was more than capable of bringing a level of seriousness to the table. Especially when it was their lives on the line. “Gotcha.”

They stayed up well into the early morn talking shit, laughing, and joking around, much like they used to do in Deadhaven. Before everything had changed. Inara was sure she would regret it when she woke, but she didn’t care. It was reassuring to know that amidst all the chaos that had now consumed their lives, there was one thing that hadn’t changed.

Their friendship—something she would cherish for the rest of her life.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The following week consisted of more of the same. Inara would meet Prince Walder at his bedchamber, escort him to the grand hall, where thousands of citizens waited to talk with him, and she would be forced to stand there and listen to it all.

After the first day in his service, she had hoped the days that followed would be different. Imagine her disappointment to find out that indeed was not the case.

Turned out, holding court was a week-long affair.

Week. Long.

Inara wasn’t going to make it. She was sure of it. She had never been so bored.

The fact that Prince Walder did not attempt to engage her in conversation again was to be expected, and it made their breaks for lunch drag on for what felt like hours.

After day two, she learnt to do something to preoccupy her mind. Sitting on the pedestal steps, she’d morphed her shield into the shape of a tiny ball to move between her fingers. Her eyes would watch and track it as it ducked and weaved over her knuckles with each movement, almost entranced.

There were complaints that did not interest her in the slightest. Squabbling neighbours and youthens playing pranks. Just more of the same.

Then, there were complaints that did get her attention. Farmers from the very edges of Arelia, reporting that game in the forests had decreased significantly. That animals and creatures alike were seen on numerous occasions running, almost as if they were fleeing from something.

It was something Inara was already aware of, and the fact that other people had begun to notice the same thing was…concerning.

Prince Walder took note of the issue and vowed to get to the bottom of it. But Inara was closer to him than any of the others. She saw the subtle tight lines of frustration in the corner of his eyes, the slight tense of his jaw.

He already knew.

And he was deeply troubled by it.

What did it mean?

Inara couldn’t help but spend the rest of the morn thinking about it. Not only what could be causing it, but also the implications. Like it always did, her mind began to run wild, trying to make sense of it all, conjuring up all the likely and unlikely scenarios that could be responsible for it.

It worried her, and that concern began to fester over time, putting her in an increasingly foul mood.

She would have asked Prince Walder about it but she wasn’t sure if he would even answer her. She did ask, however, when she could return to her village for a visit. Her thoughts were often plagued by her village, wondering how everyone was doing. If they’d ended up killing themselves over some small disagreement. If they’d managed to work together to cover Gideon’s payment.