“Ofcourse,I’m angry!” Malorg leaned in closer, his dark eyes smoldering coals. “You made your choice and broke off all contact for over a year, only to blindside me with this assignment. Pelorak said you asked for me by name. Why in the Dark would you do that after everything that happened? To rub salt into the wound?”
Sarilian’s eyes widened. “Of course not! Merciful Light, do you really think so little of me?” When Malorg didn’t reply, he muffled a wince and barreled on. “I asked for you because I thought you cared about this as much as I do.”And because I wanted to see you. “Whatever else lies between us now, surelythathasn’t changed. These Accords may be the single most important thing to happen in the Immortal Realm since the original forging of the Covenant! Don’t you want to be a part of that?”
Malorg’s uncertain expression wavered before hardening into an icy mask devoid of any emotion. “What I want is no longer your concern. However, I assure you that I have every intention of seeing these Accords through to their completion, as is myduty. Now, unless you have any other official business to discuss, I think it best you return to your delegation. Good day, Emissary.”
With that, Malorg strode down the hall until he vanished from view.
Sarilian stared after him, stunned into stillness. A flurry of emotions churned within him, regret chief among them. Malorg might have pushed him away, but Sarilian had been the one to take the offered out and end things between them. To choose duty over what they might have been.
And judging by Malorg’s reaction, he was no more over their relationship than Sarilian was. It might have been a year since they last met, but that didn’t stop Sarilian from recognizing the hurt and sorrow Malorg kept buried beneath his ire.
“Are you all right?”
Darius’ gruff voice caught Sarilian by surprise, and he jumped a little before spinning to face the Aspect with a crisp salute. “Yes, sir.” His gaze flicked past Darius, Faeris, and the rest of their delegation back to the empty hallway where Malorg had been. “Just having a quick chat with the Dusk Emissary before he departed.”
“I see.” Sarilian’s skin prickled at the appraising look Darius gave him. After a moment, the Aspect gestured. “At ease, son. There’s no need to follow protocol so strictly while we’re here. After all, as the Dawn Emissary you outrank me in these proceedings.”
Sarilian relaxed his tensed posture while Faeris shifted beside Darius, her brow twitching. Despite Sarilian’s best efforts, a year had done little to lessen her animosity toward him. Having to follow his lead here probably irked her to no end. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “What did you think of our first meeting, Faeris?”
Her narrowed eyes scanned the dark corridor, and she wrinkled her nose. “Perhaps such questions would be better saved for our return to the Dawnlands, Emissary, so that we might speak in comfort…and without the fear of prying ears?”
Sarilian muffled a sigh. “Of course. Come, let us depart.”
With him, Darius, and Faeris taking the lead and their honor guard trailing behind, they charted a course through the Dusk Citadel beneath the wary gazes of the Infernal guards. As they walked, Sarilian’s mind returned to Malorg.
Perhaps it had been a mistake to involve him in these new Accords. At the very least, he should have tried to warn the Infernal first so that he wouldn’t be so caught off guard by Sarilian’s presence.
But the damage had already been done. All Sarilian could do now was attempt to put Malorg at ease, continue upon this path he’d set them on, and pray he hadn’t made a colossal mistake.
fifteen
Malorg
Two weeks had goneby since Malorg’s first glimpse of Sarilian in over a year. The same bright eyes. The same copper complexion, lustrous despite the Dusklands’ dampening effect. The same cheerful, caring air even while discussing serious matters of state.
How much of it had been an act?
Squeezing his eyes closed, Malorg sank into his piled pillows and wished he could shut out the world as easily. Two weeks might have passed, but that hadn’t dispelled the coiled emotions writhing within him.
HowdareSarilian ambush him without so much as a warning! The so-called Dawn Emissary had known Malorg would be there. Eternal Dark, he’d specifically requested his presence! Would it have been so difficult to inform Malorg of his intentions ahead of time? That he hadn’t bothered showed just how little he regarded their past.
Like Pelorak, maneuvering pieces around the board to suit his own ends.
Despite his anger, Malorg recognized that as an unfair comparison. Sarilian wasn’t the Aspect of Ambition, diabolically masterminding events from the shadows. Even if Sarilian had sought to leverage Malorg’s role in the previous Accords to his advantage, Malorg couldn’t blame him for believing in the same dream of uniting their people that he once had.
Yet, that realization did little to soothe his aching heart. Seeing Sarilian again had been rough enough—a reminder of all he’d lost. But having to collaborate with him on new Accords, each fresh discussion dredging up painful memories of engaging in a similar process with Uryqh at his side, was almost more than he could bear.
Perhaps that’s why their meetings thus far had been such unmitigated disasters. Several sessions in, they’d still decided nothing of consequence. How could they when every conversation between them inevitably devolved into a heated argument?
Sarilian might have been able to move on, to set aside their past and devote himself to his duty. But Malorg wasn’t certain he could do the same. These past weeks had only confirmed what he’d already suspected: Sarilian was better off without him.
Malorg barely stirred from his pillows when a shadow slipped beneath his door.
“Your aides tell me the Accords aren’t going well.” Pelorak’s tone was amicable enough, his posture relaxed. Still, Malorg caught a dangerous flash in the Aspect’s coal-black eyes when he stooped to examine a small duskflame sculpture—one of the many Sarilian had cajoled Malorg into buying.
Malorg twisted away from Pelorak to stare at the shifting lines of gray that danced along his apartment’s ceiling. “Yourspiesare correct.”
Sarilian and his delegation had stormed out of this latest session after a bitter debate over…well, Malorg honestly couldn’t remember how it had started, but it hadendedwith a shouting match over the corruption Celestials might suffer while stationed in the Dusklands.