Page 3 of The Sundered Blade

“I don’t need you to like me, Princeling.” The night elf’s glower intensified. “Only to promise that Leisa will be safe with your ‘allies.’ Do not think it has escaped me that you are only this annoying when you are trying to distract someone from the truth. In this case, I suspect that someone is me.”

Vaniell reminded himself that he would do well to be mindful of Kyrion’s past. After his years as the Raven—King Melger’s deadly assassin—Kyrion would know Vaniell better than anyone else in the party. And thanks to those same circumstances, the night elf had far more justifiable reasons to dislike him.

Kyrion had said he bore no grudge and considered all debt between them absolved. But that didn’t mean he would forget Vaniell’s past actions, nor that he had any interest in a relationship of respect or cordiality.

Rather than annoy him, perhaps Vaniell ought to try the unthinkable and be brutally straightforward instead.

“I think we both know I cannot promise you anything of the kind.” Vaniell dropped all pretense of humor. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to be serious, it simply didn’t serve him well on a majority of occasions. On this one, however… “I share certain goals with my allies, but none of us truly know one another, and I have accepted the risks of our association. To the best of my ability to predict, they will offer no harm to your bondmate, but beyond that, the specific circumstances are out of my control.”

“Which Kyrion knows perfectly well.” Leisa offered her husband a fond but chiding look. “This is just his way of dealing with the fact thathecan’t control it either.”

With a tug on his hand, she drew him away towards the other side of the boat. Senaya, too, melted away into the shadows, leaving Vaniell essentially alone with Karreya. Well, alone but for their horses and the crew—three middle-aged sisters who seemed more interested in smoking their pipes than in anything their passengers might be getting up to.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke. They could hear the murmurs of other conversations, alongside the slap of the waves against the hull and the occasional shifting of the horses’ feet, but in a way, it was almost too quiet.

Words presented themselves for consideration—flippant remarks and flirtatious comments alike—and all of them went unsaid. In a sense, Vaniell had already bared his heart to her. He’d told her that nothing would make him happier than to have her beside him, but he did not yet know whether she shared those feelings.

“You are still a fool,” she said flatly.

That would be a no, then.

“But I find I am uneasy at the prospect of leaving your foolishness behind with no one but the night elf to look after it.”

That sounded like a maybe.

“First of all, I am not entirely helpless,” Vaniell returned, unable to suppress a surge of happiness at her words. “While our impending separation does not fill me with delight, I feel confident I can survive long enough for you to complete your mission. But afterwards…”

And that was where he stopped, because what then? What if their mad plan succeeded? What if they deposed Melger and sent him back to Zulle? What if they all survived the coming war, and at the end of it, Karreya felt she had to return home and face her punishment for leaving?

“My aunt told me I cannot keep you,” she said abruptly, and Vaniell’s mouth fell open.

How did she always manage to surprise him like that?

“Do you even… want to keep me?” he asked, feeling horribly apprehensive and also quite painfully hopeful.

“I…” She sounded almost as hesitant as he felt. “I know that I respect you. I admire your skills. And I feel a strong urge to stab the night elf for risking your life.”

Coming from Karreya, that was practically a declaration of love. Or at least that’s what Vaniell would have liked to tell himself. But judging from the stories of her past, she’d spent most of it without even a hint of normal human affection. Her mother had disappeared, her father ignored her, and she’d had no one else who cared. During her training, she’d been encouraged to cast aside all feelings and emotions and regard them as weaknesses to be overcome.

Even if she did care for him, it might be a long time before she truly understood those feelings. Any pushing on his part would only take advantage of her confusion and possibly press her towards a future she was not prepared to accept.

But was it any more fair to keep her in doubt of his own feelings at a moment like this?

“I meant what I said, you know,” he replied finally. “I wish you did not have to leave me. And no matter what happens, there will always be a place for you in my life.”

She turned to face him, arms tightly crossed. “As what?”

He blinked.

“I wish to know what role I would be expected to fulfill,” she continued impatiently. “If you are king, will you require me to be your bodyguard? Will you employ me as your assassin? Or do you simply desire me to be present, like a pet bird or a dog?”

“A…dog?” Vaniell sputtered, torn between amusement and frustration. Not at her, but at himself. How could he have failed so spectacularly at something he was normally quite good at?

And yet… Like a second dunking in the waters of the gulf, her words washed over him anew.

If you are king…

She was right, and he hated that she was right. If he were to be king—though that was by no means certain—he would have no position that he could offer to a Zulleri assassin, let alone the third in line to the Zulleri throne. And how could he make promises now when he did not know what the future would hold? It would be unfair to give her any hope, even though all he wanted to do was tell her the truth. To beg her to be there waiting for him at the end of this.

---