A House Divided

Chapter 28

"Good, you're early," Burl said, inclining her head in a slight nod of approval when Kila met her in front of the enclave gates ten minutes before their scheduled meeting with the Elders.

"I didn't want to risk being late," he said. He had to make a conscious effort to focus on Burl rather than allow his eyes to dart around what he could see of the enclave, searching for Cianne.

As if he would see her, at any rate. Her fighting skills could use some polish, but he had a hearty respect for her stealth skills, which, as she had pointed out, were far more formidable than his own. It didn't mean he would stop worrying about her, though.

He wished he had found the courage to share with her what had been in his heart the previous night. He cared for her, deeply. At first he had told himself he was confused, the friendship he felt for her becoming muddled with his increasing attraction to her, but he knew it wasn't true. His feelings were growing, ripening, becoming so much more. In the face of her admission that she was in love with him, it struck him as a betrayal not to have told her the truth about his own feelings.

She was right, though. There was no place for them. He hadn't let his mind dwell on that fact, but she had been right to bring it up. What did it matter if they could share something beautiful, something for which he had come to realize he had long been searching without being conscious of the search? She filled his life, lit up his days, and inspired in him more physical and mental passion than he had ever imagined he could feel for another person.

None of that would change the fact that their relationship could go nowhere, that to cross the line as he had, to answer the call he felt thrumming within him morning and night, would inevitably bring them far more pain than it would pleasure.

Would it?

Someday, years from now, would he look back on his life and feel relief that he hadn't allowed himself to know her touch, to lie with her in his arms? Or would it be his deepest regret?

"Elder Borean will be pleased. Manners are very important to him," Burl was saying as Kila tuned back in to her. He panicked for a moment, thinking she had caught him out, but it was quite clear she hadn't noticed his distraction. Her attention was fixed on the clock tower in the center of the enclave, and he had a feeling she was rehearsing in her head the things she intended to say to the Elders.

Yes, he knew how important observing social niceties was to the Houses. They preferred to kill via a million tiny cutting words rather than do something as distasteful as be honest and use a sword. Neat, quick, and clean wasn't for them.

"What is this meeting about?" Kila asked as they were admitted to the enclave by the two menacing Battle Masters guarding the gates.

No doubt House Staerleigh paid top dollar for them, he thought, a casual flick of his eyes enough for him to pick up a myriad of tiny details. That the guards were hardened was obvious, considering their well-worn armor and implacable expressions. But Kila had tallied their scars, had observed the way they held themselves, had not failed to notice their subtle appraisal of him, and knew that they were highly trained and had plenty of experience.

They were also members of one of the mercenary companies. Though their weapons and armor were well-crafted, they were plain and made from sturdy but economical materials. House Staerleigh could have paid extra for fancier, more ornamental gear, which told Kila their intent was likelier to be to impress upon their visitors that their gates were secure than it was to show off their wealth. Even so, only the Battle Masters in the employ of the royal family had the financial backing to bear the best arms and armor Metal Shapers could craft. And only the royal family—what was left of it, at any rate—had the coin to pay for the most skilled of the Battle Masters.