Kennet understood this, and therefore the Bringer’s threat to tell the government that the boy knew the secret of the Vigil was enough for even Kennet to relent and admit, as much as he hadn’t wanted to, that Lyrah had forced the next best alternative.
What Lyrah hadn’t considered until the boy came walking in was that she now had to constantly see someone who was basically a younger version of…of him. Lyrah had enough trouble trying to control her anxiety when the subject of intimacy came up, let alone when thinking of that monster. How was she not supposed to think of him when looking at his own son?! The boy not only had the exact same height, posture, and gait, but he sounded exactly like him. He was like a younger twin!
Lyrah’s arms instinctively crossed to hug herself as she thought of the confrontation at the dock, where she had called him a pretender. He had answered back, “Hey, I was protecting people!” The anger in his voice, his expression… In that moment, it was as if she had been looking at Dayless the Conqueror himself, and she had cowered. For that small span, she had been back in his bed, helpless, afraid, completely under his terrible power, being constantly abused once more.
She had fought off the reaction quickly, her sense of duty and determination winning the battle; but still, that image was so frightening. It was that part of the boy that frightened her, his ability to become the Conqueror in her eyes.
“He is not his father,” Lyrah said again to herself. “He’s just a lost and confused little boy who doesn’t know how to use his powers…”
But then again, he did defeat that famous pirate, Lyrah thought. That certainly tells of a capable and strong young man. He also freed those kidnapped girls…
Oh, how Lyrah’s heart ached for those poor girls. She knew exactly what they had gone through, having experienced much the same…except that she had never been rescued, she thought bitterly.
Then Lyrah noticed something: her regard for the boy was different in that moment. The boy, Daylen, had saved a group of girls who were much like she had been, and had done exactly what Lyrah would have done in the same situation: kill every last one of the sex slavers.
That was something to appreciate in him.
“This is how I need to see him, for who he is. The papers say he’s a hero, and for those girls, at least, he is.”
Lyrah breathed a sigh of relief, for when picturing Daylen in her mind, now it was much harder to see his father. One was a rapist and monster, while the other was apparently someone who killed those types of people.
Someone that Lyrah could not only put up with, but also someone that she might even be able to like.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The whole world had fallen into war and the Archknights petitioned me many times to stop.
I ignored them, as I knew they had no right to intervene in matters regarding nations. They continued to bother me, eventually assigning a personal counselor from their ranks.
I called him Puppy.
The continued resources that maintained my armies were more crucial at that time than ever before. This was the reason why I reacted so strongly when Daybreak, one of my larger Hamahran cities, rebelled.
* * *
Daylen entered the sitting room to see Lyrah on one of the couches.
A sharp stab of guilt struck him with such force that his legs lost strength for an instant. Catching himself on an armchair, Daylen paused to breathe in before managing to stand. Bracing himself, he looked back to the woman. The guilt surged again—but this time, being prepared for it, he stood strong.
“I’ve seen you use your powers to heal, so why are you still injured?” Lyrah said.
“It’s not that kind of injury… I just didn’t sleep well.”
She nodded, her face softening for a moment.
Daylen walked to the tray of cloche-covered plates that was near the door. Apparently breakfast had been delivered. He took one and walked to the dining table, glad for the excuse to get away from the woman.
Sitting, he removed the cloche and found a meal that had to be Tuerasian cuisine. It looked really good, but even that couldn’t brighten his mood.
The seat in front of him was pulled back and someone sat. Daylen looked up to see Lyrah and his guilt surged again.
She was still so young, but then again everyone looked young to Daylen; to most people, he supposed Lyrah would appear aged and hard.
“You need to watch me eat?” Daylen asked.
“You can eat a shoe for all I care. We need to talk.”
Daylen glanced at her and heartache ripped through his chest so pure that he grunted under his breath. He would just have to bear it. “Then talk,” he said with half a breath.
“The Bringer says you won’t reveal how you became a Lightbinder.”
“Correct.”
“Will you tell me where you were when it happened?”
“No.”
She studied him for a moment before asking, “Why are you keeping the secret? You don’t seem to like the Order very much.”
“The Arch Order of Light is the single most important institution in the world. You need your powers to do what you do, whereas others not bound to your cause would abuse it to their own benefit.”
That seemed to surprise her, though she was certainly doing her best to keep her face a mask.
“And you won’t abuse them?” she asked.
“No more than you,” Daylen said, not flinching from the woman’s gaze. She stared back at him as if their eyes were in a duel.
“And you’ll keep knowledge that might threaten the Order to yourself?”
“Hmm… I wonder what you’re referring to,” Daylen said, triggering the spring-loaded dagger in his gauntlet. He casually raised his gauntlet and reset the dagger. “But if there was anything that might threaten the Order—say, something that could nullify their powers—I would be pretty Light-cursed stupid to reveal it to anyone, considering it would affect me too.”
She frowned deeply, clearly understanding the not-so-subtle subtext.
“How did you know my name?”
Black. He had hoped she would have forgotten that.
“My father,” Daylen said reluctantly.
Lyrah’s jaw tensed and she took some very measured breaths. Her hands gripped the edge of the table and she replied with a voice quivering in anger. “He mentioned me by name?”
“Yes,” Daylen said softly. “You probably don’t want to hear this, but no man has ever borne as much guilt than my…my father. One night, he spoke of the people he felt he had mistreated most. He didn’t say what he had done specifically, but for some reason most were women, you one of the more prominent among them. He even described your appearance, which was why I recognized you. I don’t know what my father did to you,” Daylen lied, “but he…”
“Stop!” Lyrah said, her hands white from gripping the table so hard. Her head was bowed and she seemed to struggle to regain control of herself.
She hates me so much… Well, no wonder.
Lyrah eventually calmed. “Are you really a master of the sword?” she asked, clearly forcing a change of subject.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“My father taught me.”
Lyrah briefly paused before saying. “You’ll be going to the constabulary infall.”
Amazing that even with someone whom Daylen felt he had done so much wrong, he could still resent them if they tried to boss him around.
He ate some food and swallowed a disrespectful retort with it. Instead, he chose a much more managed response, but even then, it was laced with more force than he intended. “You don’t need to tell me my business. I’ve said I’ll turn myself in, and I keep my word.”
Lyrah stared back at him; and again, for the slightest moment, there was a hint of the poor frightened girl he once knew in her expression. It vanished quickly, replaced with hardness. What had caused that flash of vulnerability?
“That’s yet to be determined,” Lyrah said.
<
br /> Daylen breathed out long and slow as he tried to cope with the guilt from being so close to this woman. “And will you trust me once it is?” he asked.
“A first step.”
She was smart to be so cautious. Lyrah certainly hadn’t grown up to be a fool.
Lyrah was looking back at him, but her eyes eventually broke from his gaze, glancing to the side. Others might have thought that sideways glace meant nothing, but Daylen could read people, and he saw that tiny flash of vulnerability again.
Lyrah looked back at him angrily. “What?”
He realized he had been staring. He looked away. “It’s nothing.”
Daylen wasn’t going to tell her what he had just realized: that she was afraid of him. She was fighting it, and most people wouldn’t have noticed—but Daylen did, and there was only one thing that Daylen could think of that would do that. It was who he looked like, who he sounded like: himself—just a much younger version. Daylen could only imagine what this poor girl thought of the monster that had imprisoned and raped her every low for a month, but judging by these reactions, Lyrah still struggled with what he had done to her. It wasn’t just the anger and hate she had struggled with when Daylen had lied about how he knew her name—it was fear. Daylen had permanently damaged this poor woman, he realized with a sudden surge of guilt, and he could think of no punishment painful enough that would adequately administer justice for that crime. No wonder the Light tormented him so relentlessly, and all this simply served to reinforce Daylen’s knowledge that he deserved it. The pain he felt, the guilt, the heartache at seeing the damage he had caused, to see the fruit of his sins… He deserved it all.
“Nothing?” Lyrah said accusingly. “Just look at your face. If you have a problem with me, spit it out.”
Well, Daylen couldn’t exactly say he had just realized that she was still damaged from him raping her. He had to make something up. “It’s just that…” He hesitated; he couldn’t think of a good reply. He needed to say something that would satisfy her accusation and also make sense as to why Daylen would try and hide it. And if his reply came too late, it would only look like he was thinking up another lie.
He looked down, and nothing clever came to him. Looking up, he was struck by the image of Lyrah’s face, and ended up blurting out the very same thought as it came into his mind: “You’re beautiful.”
Well, that had stunned her—as well as Daylen.
Lyrah’s face was frozen in quiet consternation, a reddening blush heating her cheeks.
I’M SUCH A LIGHT-BLINDED, BLACKENED IDIOT! he thought at himself in horror.
There was a reason people said to think before one speaks. What Daylen had said was true, of course—she really was beautiful—but only a bloody idiot would blurt it out like that, especially considering what Daylen had done to her. It had been a profoundly stupid thing to say.
Lyrah had completely withdrawn mentally. Her breathing had increased and she was clearly feeling anxious. She closed her eyes and, clearly taking stock, slowly stopped looking so nervous. Instead, she looked merely uncomfortable.
Yes, indeed the air felt very awkward now, and Lyrah was looking at everything but him.
“Sorry,” Daylen eventually said. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I don’t want to know what it meant. I’d rather we not talk about it.”
“Good… So, the weather.”
“What about it?”
“It’s very weather-like.”
Lyrah held a gaze on him for a moment before a small smile cracked her expression. “Yes. Similarly, I’ve noticed that for some reason trees act a lot like trees.”
Daylen smiled. “The world’s full of mysteries.”
“Mysteries like why a pubescent troublemaker is trying to make small talk with someone who clearly doesn’t like him.” Lyrah was glaring at him and Daylen was stunned by the massive mood swing. “Hurry up and eat, kid,” Lyrah said, leaving the table abruptly. “I’ll be taking you to the constabulary within the hour,” she added before walking to the sitting room and finding a couch with its back to Daylen.
Daylen’s surprise was quickly melted away by anger. Keeping control of his tongue was all he could do as his shaking fists clenched his cutlery, pressing them into the mahogany dining table.
He remained in that state for a good minute, breathing deeply and letting his rage come under control.
Daylen eventually dropped his knife and fork, leaning back in frustration and saying under his breath, “Bitch!”
Around ten minutes after Lyrah had left, Ahrek emerged and joined Daylen at the dining table with one of the plates.
Daylen hadn’t eaten anything.
“I’m pleased to report that Archknight Cueseg is a wonderful man. He made that breakfast you’re eating. It’s a traditional Tuerasian dish called capaden…”
“I don’t really care.”
Ahrek sighed. “What’s put you in such a foul mood?”
Daylen didn’t reply.
Ahrek glanced to the sitting room. “Ah, not getting along, I see.”
“Really? You sure?” Daylen bit out. “Ahrek, this was a bad idea.”
“It was the only peaceful solution.”
“Yeah, well, right now I’m feeling like a little less peace would be nice. I need to hit something.”
“You’re frustrated—”
A knock came from the door, cutting Ahrek off.
“I’ll get it,” Daylen said, happy for a reason to end the conversation.
Opening the door, Daylen found Sain on the other side. The boy had cleaned himself up considerably. He had bathed and his hair was cut in a stylish fashion. He was wearing black boots over brown slacks and a vest over a loose white shirt with a backsword at his side.
“Speaking of hitting something,” Daylen said with a smile as he folded his arms.
“What?” Sain replied.
“Oh, just wishful thinking. It’s good to see you.”
That comment seemed to surprise the snot. “Really?”
“As big a pain in the ass as you are, you’re worlds better than what I’ve had to put up with. Come in.”
Sain entered. “Look, I know you don’t want me around, I just wanted to let you know that the salvage claims have been processed. It’s all approved.” Sain held out the same leather envelope that had kept the Maraven’s registration. “The Maraven is yours.”
Daylen took the envelope. “That was blackened fast! It should have taken a week.”
“Well, I think the group of kidnapped girls that needed to be returned to their families, the death of a famous pirate, and the capture of his ship put us higher in the queue.”
“Good point.”
“There’re a lot of people who really want to speak to you.”
“I’ll be visiting the constabulary infall.”
“Oh, not the conners—reporters. There were, like, twenty of them trying to get past the security at our stack.”
Daylen groaned. “They’ve already heard of it?”
“You’re famous. It was Blackheart you killed, and one of the girls you saved is the daughter of some important senator.”
Daylen looked to Ahrek.
Ahrek nodded. “Senator Terain, if I remember.”
“She’s no more important than the other girls,” Daylen said, looking back to Sain.
“That’s not how they see it,” Sain replied with a shrug.
Daylen groaned. “Great.”
“So…about the Bloodrunner,” Sain began to ask.
“It’s yours.”
Sain pulled out a folded document from his coat. “Well, that’s what this paper says…but really, you should have the ship.”
“I don’t need it. Stop feeling guilty. It’s yours, as is the rest of the money.”
“I…just don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. Go and make a life for yourself.”
Sain stood, looking at his registration, and after a mome
nt suddenly walked to Daylen and hugged him tight.
Daylen stiffened, feeling very uncomfortable.
“Thank you,” Sain said in a quivering voice.
“That’s… Um, that’s fine,” Daylen said, hugging him back awkwardly.
Sain pulled away, wiping tears from his cheeks and sniffing.
“I’d go with you, you know. Help you in whatever it is you’re trying to do.”
“No, all I’ll be doing is looking for trouble. You’ve had enough of that in your life. Go buy a nice house, invest the rest of your money and start a business, get a girl pregnant and raise a family. Live a good life, Sain.”
Sain sniffed again and wiped his nose. “That sounds nice.”
“It is, for those who can do it.”
Sain smiled. “And I might be closer to having a family than I thought.”
“How so?”
“Well… I’ve met someone.”
“When under the Light did that happen?”
Sain suddenly looked guilty as sin. “She’s… Well, she was one of the girls you saved.”
“What!” Daylen erupted. “You bowlegged little snot, you took advantage of one of those girls!” Daylen’s arm flew back to strike the idiot, but Sain’s cowering reply stopped him.
“She has nowhere to go! Her family will disown her for what’s happened!”
Daylen calmed and his arm lowered. “Sharra. She jumped your bones, didn’t she?”
Sain wilted, blushing conspicuously. “How…how did you know?”
“She tried the same on me.”
“What?” Ahrek said from the table.
“I didn’t do anything, Bringer, so loosen your knickers, will you?”
Sain’s face was red with embarrassment, and also jealousy, by the look of it. “She… She tried…”
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