“We have not, Nura. Not to my satisfaction.”
“I can’t do anything about his sentence.”
Brayan’s face hardened. “That’s a lie.”
“Brayan—”
“What he did at Sarlazai made him a hero. He ended the Great Ryvenai War that day.”
“And he also—”
“It is unacceptable for him to be imprisoned for those actions.”
“It wasn’t my ruling.”
I scoffed. “Bullshit.”
I remembered little about my trial. But I understood that I was in Ilyzath because Nura wanted me to be there. This fact, too, now hit me with a strange new discomfort. What happened? How did we get here?
Brayan barely gave me a passing glance.
“Bullshit indeed,” he said.
Nura’s face went cold and hard. “Let’s talk about this later. We have a lot to catch up on.”
But Brayan said, calmly, “We’ll talk about it now, and he is not leaving this room until we do.”
I had never seen the Queen give anyone so much patience before. A muscle feathered in her throat. But when she looked back to Brayan, something changed in her face—she looked younger.
Those new, old memories nagged at me. Nura looking up at Brayan when we were children. She had always adored him. It was odd to recognize that perhaps a part of her still did, even all these years later.
She turned to the healer, who looked deeply fraught by being caught in the middle of this discussion.
“Go. Get the Syrizen to escort Maxantarius back to Ilyzath.”
“But—”
“Go, Willa.”
The healer couldn’t leave fast enough. Nura turned to the window, her back to us both.
“I’m happy to see you, Brayan. I’ve missed you. I’m grateful that you fought with us today. Now you’ve seen how bad things have gotten, and there’s no one I’d rather have at my back for this war. But—”
“What a tremendous disrespect.” Brayan’s voice sliced through hers, cold and lethal. “This is how you thank my parents for treating you like one of their own children? You throw their son in Ilyzath?”
Every muscle of Nura’s body went tense. I could see it even in her back. When she looked over her shoulder at him, all remaining vestiges of warmth were gone.
“My Queen,” she hissed. “Address me by my title. Andno oneinterrupts me, Brayan. Not even you. When I saw you, I thought that…”
Her voice faltered, and in that moment a realization snapped into place.
This wasn’t anger. This was hurt. She had truly been excited to see Brayan, and, beyond all reason, had allowed herself to believe that he would help her. Was that how desperate she was for a friend?
Now, she seemed to be cursing herself for her own foolishness.
The door opened, and the Syrizen arrived.
“He is not leaving this room, Nura,” Brayan said, firmly. He took two steps back, subtlety putting himself between me and the door.