Paradox Interluder (Usurper #2)

19

A month or so had passed and Alec Kruzika still had not found an avenue to apologize to his sister. There had been glimpses of moments, seconds in time that he felt he had enough bravery to admit his wrongs. Yet those were either ruined by some urgent delegation she needed to attend to, or Kaid's presence. Alec would not apologize with him present in the same room. The disgust would overcome any of his desire to make amends with his sister.

His mission was equally time sensitive yet unable to be rushed. Failure meant this entire operation could collapse and the Continent would pay for it with a blood soaked war. Alec, as devious as he thought himself, did not want war. No, the more he began to grow comfortable in his home and interact with others, the more he too believed war would not solve this issue.

Alec didn't pick sides, he picked people. Not people to show loyalty to, but people he wanted to plot against. He'd ally himself with anyone who hated his own enemy, regardless of the cost of friendships. He held no ill will towards Vrah or any of the Lungorian Empire. He held no ill intent towards his sister. In fact, he was beginning to really admire her. But he hated Kaid Al-Yami.

He fucking hated him.

Alec had thought the dismembering of the Guardian's left hand would be a serious maim, a plight he could not solve. Yet, the Uhkhtarian never viewed it as an impasse to progress. No. The very essence of his injury challenged him. Despite his disability, he eagerly outperformed most of the Vitross Guards in training. He could do more push-ups with one arm alone than the others could with two, pull himself above gymnastic bars with no problem, and most of all, get thunderous applause every single morning after winning every duel.

The only time he wasn't the object of attention was only when his sister would join in the mornings. At least she could still compete against him, whether outpacing him in a run or bend her way out of a wrestling match with him. Alec did take pride whenever Jessamine kicked his ass, figuratively of course. While Alec wished for the courage to duel Kaid in a training spar, he knew he lacked the discipline to not try and kill the man.

Killing him was part of the plan, but to do so in front of an audience was definitely not part of it.

When Alec entered the Empress' office, he was met with a view of Kaid Al-Yami quickly lifting his pants up and adjusting his belt, struggling with the applied pressure of his wrist as his other hand assisted with the notches. Jessamine stood to the side, fixing her tousled hair before glancing at her brother.

"I'm sorry, was I interrupting something?" Alec asked, wondering what the hell Kaid could have been doing with his trousers practically unsecured.

"I see you have forgotten your manners about knocking on doors before entering," Jessamine remarked, "I was helping Kaid try out some new belts. He's not a fan of the elastic ones Christine invented for him as he tore the fabric too easily. Alas, we will continue to find accommodations for him."

"And if not, then a normal belt is fine," Kaid grunted, finally getting it done correctly without Jessamine's help before his eyes met Alec. He could see Alec wasn't all entirely convinced of Jessamine's quick improvisation. "We have to make do with what we have."

"I see," Alec hummed, turning towards his sister, "May I speak to you privately?"

"I would say yes, but we have a Council to attend to. Can it wait until after?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle.

"You could join us, if you'd like," Kaid offered, wanting to find some compromise. The fact that accommodation came from Kaid only made Alec want to reject it. That, and he shouldn't have to be asked. It was by his own birthright he should be allowed into those meetings, meetings where decisions were made to use family funds or empirical judgements.