These Ivory Swords

| Chapter Three |

Dinner wasn't satisfying.

Nothing was.

No single action cured the gnawing sensation in Sorein's gut as he considered what his friend might be saying within that closed Study above the Aphrye.

He'd tried pacing.

Not only had Sorein paced the length of the billiards room a hundred times over, he'd picked up two books, shot his cue into a ball, and thrown several misplaced darts with shaky hands.

All to avoid the inevitable.

Ezre's dimly lit office illuminated the hallway floor enough that he could focus on his silent footfalls instead of his surroundings. The midnight chimes sent the priestesses home for the evening, allowing him to make it through the estate without detection.

It'd been just shy of an hour since Noah left him standing in the Billiards room, his head spinning.

Sorein couldn't understand his own frantic thoughts, the faint buzzing crawling over his skin coupling with intense dread to form a deep pit in his chest. He'd been against the court's slickness for so long, he barely grasped the role he'd need to play simply to find information.

If sneaking around became the only way to learn, he'd succumb to it. Gladly.

Ezre's growl rumbled through the room, echoed by the shuffling of loose papers.

"Andrin's pissed," Ezre said, tossing something weighted on his desk. "Your timing, Whitecross, is impeccable as always."

His tone meant anything but.

"I don't suppose that's my problem," Noah mused. "After a century, I'm sure he anticipated I'd seek to fulfill my father's bargain."

"You seem to forget, I know your father. He sounded just as shocked as the rest of us."

Silence. Potentially a shrug.

Now eclipsing one hundred and sixty, Sorein knew very little of Noah's agreement, let alone how the human male had lived so long. His friend never mentioned the strange tether he had to his home, let alone his feelings about it.

"You'd leave Sorein to face the potential trial alone, then?" Ezre tried again.

"There will be no trial."

"So you've said," the king grumbled back. "Was he aware of your choice?"

No. He was still bitter, but ducking through the hallways to understand crossed several boundaries of his own.

"I don't see how that's any of your concern," Noah replied, sighing. "But if you must know, I've done this for him."

Sorein stiffened.

Ezre hummed his response, but didn't push further.

"What of Iliya?" Noah fired back, his voice constricting. "You're running Rhydian ragged, who else?"

He reminded himself to thank Noah for asking those difficult questions. His friend's pleasant demeanor destabilized everyone, even Ezre.

Sorein wasn't sure of the friendship he'd built with Iliya, but was certain her absence was nagging at him too.

"No one," Ezre finally admitted quietly.

Heat rushed down his spine.

He bit down on his anger and waited, praying for an addendum. Anything.

"Excuse me?"

The sentiment was mutual.

Noah fought and failed to hide the frustration in his voice.