Queen's Shadow || Kingdom at the End of the World - Book II

[23.1] Guests

They left Lord Fane alive.

Valeri was uncertain about his feelings on the matter. The man was certainly worthy of punishment, but the eagerness with which he sought his own demise left a sour taste in Valeri's mouth.

"Yevelina Hale's death was foreordained," Lord Fane rasped as explanation, his throat still sore from the bite of Ira's blade. "There was nothing to be done."

It was an unsound statement, yet it quickly became obvious that Lord Fane believed in its veracity wholeheartedly. The man spoke of the night Lady Hale met her demise at some length. He had kept written record of the proceedings, in fact, for the purposes of reporting to the Dvor. Ira listened to the man's unfeeling account in frozen silence, looking as unbalanced as Valeri had ever seen her.

Lord Fane did not regret his actions. Remorse required understanding of one's wrongdoings, which Lord Fane lacked. Chervnik's destruction, Alexandra Orlova's death, the past he shared with Ira and Iavor Beaufort – Lord Fane spoke of all without once acknowledging the role he had played in each tragedy. It was infuriating.

Yet, the man lived still.

Valeri did not ask Ira her reasons. He did receive some satisfaction from Lord Fane's utter bewilderment at their departure, short-lived as the feeling was. Lord Fane would likely live out the remainder of his years waiting for Ira to return, for the blade to drop. Valeri supposed that was a fitting punishment for a man who had wished to abdicate his crimes and die a martyr.

The cold gathered as frost over yellowed grass. Valeri had the reins, Ira a quiet presence at his back. They had traveled through the night without a shared word. Valeri burned to ask Ira her thoughts on Lord Fane's ramblings – about the Queen's Court, Lady Hale's purposed rank among its Lords. Ira was likely preoccupied with those very same concerns. Perhaps she would welcome the opportunity to share her burden, if Valeri were to speak on the subject.

Valeri mulled over the issue for some time. The sound of night creatures was faint around them, the air cold. The wind carried a faint scent of smoke. Humans were constantly putting the world on fire, in one way or another.

"He loved her," Valeri heard himself say.

The words poured out of him without much thought. He regretted them as soon as they left his lips; it was not his place to speak of the relationship between Iavor Beaufort and Yevelina Hale, least of all to Ira.

Ira's hands tightened at Valeri's sides before consciously relaxing. Valeri forged on, pressed by a need to explain.

"You once said that your mother was murdered by the man she loved. But she was not – Iavor did not, and not only because that very night, he –" Valeri swallowed the needless, died as well. "Even if that was not the case, he would have never hurt her. You should – you should know that about him, if nothing else."

Ira did not respond immediately. Valeri had nearly resigned himself to hours of awkward silence when he felt her lean her head against his back, voice a quiet rumble over his skin.

"Tell me, then. What should I know about Iavor Beaufort?"

"He was kind," Valeri said, the words pulled out of him in a rush. It was a simple thing to say, but truthful.

Ira let out a low hum. "A kind vampire?" she asked, her tone light enough to pass for teasing if not for the rigid line of her body against Valeri's own.

Valeri fought back a burst of irritation. Ira did not know Iavor, and owed the man no respect. Still, her derision sat badly.

"Yes," Valeri said. Ira did not challenge him this time.