“Sometimes people need help,” he said brusquely. “I needed help. Avalanche needed help. Crystal and Alzona needed help. You needed help. Or have you forgotten your own struggles so easily?”
Shit, was that his voice yelling?
He shook his head and downed his eleventh goblet of brew before somehow managing to stand on unsteady legs.
Shard avoided Lina’s gaze.
“Who are you trying to convince?” she asked.
He was swaying. A lot. And looking at her again would be too much like looking at a mirror. If he didn’t walk away now, Shard would do something he despised—make a rash decision.
“Only her,” he said tightly before stumbling away.
Chapter Five
Shard groaned, rolling over in bed. His tongue had cleaved to the roof of his mouth. Something sharp dug into his side. Confused, he cracked open an eye.
Straw.
“What the hell?” he rasped, propping himself up. There wasn’t any straw in his chamber. Where was he?
A plate loaded with eggs, bread, and bacon appeared under his nose. He followed the arm up to the massacred face of Avalanche.
“Food,” his hulking friend said, shaking the plate and making the eggs jiggle.
Shard blew out a breath and sat up, taking the plate.
Avalanche wrinkled his nose, stretching the scars that marred his face. He’d had them since Shard met him at eighteen. He was the reason Shard left thievery behind to join Alzona’s Barracks. A barracks owner could never miss a giant like Avalanche, but someone like Shard, working chiefly from the shadows, could have evaded their notice.
They’d been friends for nearly ten years.
“Breath stinks worse than this kennel,” Avalanche stated, taking a seat on the straw.
Shard chewed on some bacon. “Do I want to know how I ended up here?”
“No.”
Great. “Did I embarrass the king and queen?”
His friend tipped his head back to stare at the low stone ceiling and nodded.
Double great. “I need to know what I did so I can fix it.”
“Started the Interworld drinking games.”
Shard put his breakfast to the side and rubbed his temples. “Go on.”
“Took a woman to your room.”
What? Panic gripped him. “Not Arla?” Though he didn’t want to think about whether that would make things better or worse.
“Opposite. Solati. Brunette. But don’t worry. Kicked down the door and protected your virtue. Carried you down here to sleep.”
Protecting his virtue part aside, Shard was truly grateful. Sleeping with another felt like a betrayal to Arla. No matter that she slept with whoever she wanted and never touched him. Doing the same back felt . . . disloyal. To himself and to her.
Shard dropped his head into his hands. “Avalanche, my friend. I am pathetic.”
“Not normally.”
Shard lifted his head and eyeballed him.
His fighting comrade shrugged a massive shoulder. “Everyone is pathetic sometimes. I was pathetic just last week when my panna cotta didn’t set.”
What the hell was a panna cotta? “It’s just that I love her,” he said with a sigh.
Avalanche warded off Shard’s alcoholic breath with a wave and grimace.
“I suppose you think she doesn’t deserve me, too,” he continued.
Was Lina right? Was Shard taking his pursuit of Arla too far? Was she what people referred to as ‘first love’? Was falling this hard, and in what felt like such a permanent way, normal? He’d watched people get over their first loves, but Shard didn’t think that was possible for him.
This felt like more.
Did he believe his love was greater than it really was? Didn’t everyone feel this way when they were in love?
Ugh.
Avalanche glanced at Shard’s discarded plate. Shard picked the plate up and resumed eating.
“A challenge,” his friend eventually said. “For a normal man, too much of a challenge, but for you? You’re not normal.”
Shard snorted, spraying flecks of bread onto the straw. “Thanks.”
“You think too much. You love a woman who thinks too much. You both think too much instead of doing enough. In this.”
That. . . .
“My head hurts too much for this conversation,” he admitted. How many goblets did he drink last night? The last he recalled was the one the queen handed to him . . .
. . . right before he shouted at her.
Shard groaned again, wincing bodily at what he could recall shouting at her.
He stuffed bread in his mouth and handed the empty plate to Avalanche.
“Where’s the queen?” he asked after swallowing.
“Touring the Dome.”
Something he should be doing with the foreign dignitaries too. “It’s past midday?”
Avalanche nodded.
Time to start apologizing, then.
He glanced down. “Where’s my tunic?” Panic reared up in his throat. If he’d tried to give it to Arla again…
The scars on Avalanche’s face stretched and twisted as he began to laugh. “Gave it to Adnan because he looked cold. He’d given his to an Ire woman. She lost interest when Adnan accepted yours.”
He’d ruined the nighttime efforts of Lina’s half-brother, too? Better add another apology to the list.
After combing his hair back and straightening his trousers, Shard exited the kennel ahead of Avalanche.
A giggle sounded from ahead.
They drew alongside the front kennel, which was empty of hay, but not people.
Rhone glanced over his shoulder, pressed against his new bride, Monikah.
“Well met,” Shard said in greeting, mustering as much energy as he could. “How goes the Ire team?”
“Go away.” Rhone turned from them to the red-faced Monikah and kissed her again.
All right then.
The door to the kennel bounced shut behind them as they left.
“Is it just me or does everyone hate me today?” Shard asked Glacium.
The world didn’t answer as they entered the castle.
The lack of noise from the food hall ahead told him lunch was over and he’d lost more of the day than expected.
“Shard,” someone called.
He turned to face Roscoe, the king’s right-hand man and the queen’s father—though she’d only really accepted his presence in that role after Kendra’s birth.
“How’s your head?” the older man asked, his melodious voice containing strains of laughter.
Shard sighed. “Better than I deserve, so I’ve heard.”
“You can still throw a dagger when you’re well into your cups,” the advisor continued. “Oh, and I’m fine with your courting my son, if you’re still serious. I assume you are because you’re yet to retrieve your tunic. Though you might want to check with Adnan first.”
“You done?” Shard asked him.
The advisor slapped Avalanche on the back and they clearly enjoyed their laughter together at his expense.
Shard scowled darkly.
“Uh . . . yes,” Roscoe said, catching the glare. “King Jovan wants to see you. Royal chamber.”
That did not bode well.
“Got it.” Shard turned left to the staircase that led to the royal suite.
“Might want to put a tunic on first,” Roscoe called. “I want my future son-in-law to make a good impression.”
Avalanche snickered loudly.
Silently, Shard strode in the opposite direction to his own chamber, studiously ignoring their booming mirth at his back.
“Ice dagger, well met,” an Ire man said, clapping him on the back as he passed by.
Ice what now?
. . . What happened last night?
No, scratch that. He didn’t want to know why people were calling him ice dagger. What a mess.
Shard forced himself up the long flight of stairs and approached his c
hamber, feet slowing when he arrived.
The door hung off one hinge.
Avalanche wasn’t kidding about breaking in. . . .
Shard slipped inside. He should try to get rid of the brew stench before seeing the king.
Undoing the front laces of his trousers, he crossed to the basin, but stopped in his tracks at the sound of rustling coming from the bed.
Avalanche hadn’t lied. The brunette. Naked. In his bed. Definitely Solati. Apparently, she hadn’t left.
He couldn’t deal with that right now. First things first. Shard continued to the basin and splashed water on his face, cursing long and hard in his head.
“Good night, I see.”
Cold filled him, and the liquid freeze wasn’t from the ice encasing her words. Shard reached for the drying cloth and dragged it over his face slowly, working to school his features into something that wasn’t the expression of a schoolboy caught sneaking out of class.
He threw the cloth next to the sink and met Arla’s gaze. Rather, her profile as she stared at the brunette Solati.
In his bed.
Shard’s initial instinct was to defend himself. But he quelled that impulse. Honestly, last night—what he remembered of it and the rest that he didn’t—hadn’t rid him of the anger he still felt from their earlier conversation. He needed to pick his sack up off the floor for the first time since meeting Arla.
“Yes,” he replied. “How was yours?”
She tore her eyes away and perused his body.
He frequently trained without a shirt. He wasn’t showing any more skin than she’d seen before, but Shard dropped his gaze to the loosened fastenings of his trousers. His mouth dried and he glanced back to the brunette.
That looked especially terrible.
“Mine already left,” she said, folding her arms and tossing her hair. “It’s a mistake to let them stay. They get clingy.”
Small white marks had formed where Arla dug her nails into the soft flesh of her arms. She was pissed?
She wasn’t allowed to be pissed when they weren’t together.
“Are you angry because your feelings are hurt? Or because you’re jealous my attention shifted to another?” he said in a low voice, darting another glance at the slumbering Solati.
Okay, maybe he was pissed too.
“How quickly you move on from someone you loved,” she said.
His anger washed away at her quiet tone.
This time, Arla didn’t just grace him with a flash of vulnerability, but a whole five seconds.
He’d hurt her. That made him feel like the lowest of the low—no matter how much the vindictive whispers in his head wanted Arla to feel a sliver of the pain he’d felt.
Shard battled against the urge to clear up the situation. And lost.
“Arla, I—”
A knock sounded on the broken door.
Adnan stood there, washed and dressed, and holding a familiar tunic in hand. “Sorry, is this a bad time?”
Shard bit back on his rising temper. Yes. “Adnan. Come in.”
Roscoe’s son approached and held out Shard’s tunic. “Things got pretty crazy last night,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m sorry if I misled you, but I think there has been a misunderstanding.”
Arla snorted, smirking.
Of course she’d be here for this. “Things did get crazy last night.”
The inventor stopped and studied the slumbering woman in his bed. “Wait, you like women?”
Arla cut in. “Maybe he likes both.”
Adnan nodded. “I see. Well, I’m firmly in the women sector, so I hope your feelings aren’t hurt, but I have to give this back. Thank you, though. It was kind of nice, in a friendly way.”
The stone floor beneath him could collapse and Shard wouldn’t be upset to be swallowed whole. At least the Solati hadn’t woken up. She must’ve drunk as much as him last night. Unless she was pretending to sleep—or was dead. That might be the only thing that could make this day worse.
Shard collected himself. “Thank you, Adnan.”
The inventor made scarce.
“You hand your tunic out to anyone?” Arla sneered.
Shard shook his head, the urge to explain the Solati in his bed disappearing. “At least he handed it back to me instead of dropping it on the floor.”
She tilted her chin and the ludicrousness of their conversation hit him.
“Look, Arla. It is what it is. You were crystal clear last night and I need you to back off while I sort myself out.”
“You hate me that much?”
He regarded her. “I’ll never hate you. Even if I tried.” Which he was actively attempting to do. “But if you can’t love me, I can’t love you. Even if I want to, it’s not healthy. That’s why I need time. It’s nothing to do with hating you.”
The Solati in his bed stirred with a soul-deep groan that echoed his current feeling. He glanced back as the brunette woman sat. The furs covering her slipped away, displaying her bare and ample chest.
He turned back to find Arla peering at the Solati, her lips pressed together.
Shard said gently, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have matters to attend to.”
Chapter Six
“So what happened?” Ice cooed, face propped on his hands.
Shard had elected to sit in the back of the food hall with his Outer Rings friends for dinner. Actually, Jovan had elected it for him, right about the time he informed Shard that he wasn’t to speak to the queen unless she approached him. And that if Shard ever made a spectacle of himself in front of his court again, the king would remove a body part.
“I’m not protecting Lina and Kendra during the games anymore,” Shard answered. No point hiding that from the spy mastermind. Everyone would see it tomorrow.
Blizzard whistled. “You must’ve said something bad to the queen.”
The table glared at him.
They’d known Shard longer, but Lina had a way of inspiring loyalty. Probably because she was so loyal herself. He had treated her badly—even if he’d really been speaking to himself. Now she didn’t want to speak to him. Or Jovan wouldn’t let him speak to her.
Whatever it was, he couldn’t blame them.
Since the age of seventeen, he’d made one calculated decision after another. And now everything was a ridiculous tangled heap that had catapulted into disaster.
“Ready for the first matches tomorrow?” he asked his ex-pit fighter companions, all of whom were fighting for Glacium.
Ice scrunched up his nose. “Ain’t sure how I’ll go in agility. Ire folk are agile sonsofbitches.”
Accuracy, agility, strength, and prowess with bow, dagger, spear, and sword were the seven testing categories selected for this year’s games.
“The group fight is ours,” Blizzard said, slamming his goblet on the table.
“Hey, so Avalanche told us you’re in knots over a girly,” Ice cut in.
Shard glared up at his hulking friend, who shrugged.
“Do you want to know what I think?” Blizzard asked.
“No,” the occupants of the table chorused with a groan.
“I think,” the minister of the people continued loudly, “she wants a display of your manhood.”
Ice snorted. “You think he should flash her?”
He pretty much had a few hours ago.
“No,” Blizzard withered. “I mean a manly display. Like, I dunno. . . .”
Ice straightened. “Pulling her hair.”
“More like killing a boar or something.” Blizzard tapped his lip. “Half-dressed.”
Shard smiled despite himself. He shrugged, saying, “That’s all over and done with. She didn’t want me.”
Weariness piled on his shoulders at the admission.
He didn’t want to be around people anymore tonight. He needed sleep before he had to . . . well . . . his new job was sitting on the sidelines, so he had nothing to prepare for. But at least his bed was empty now.
After Arla had left, he’d woken the Solati woman and sent her back to the watchmen’s barracks in the castle where the guests from Osolis were housed.
“Going to bed,” he said abruptly, standing.
The others were silent as he left.
Shard kept his eyes on the archway of the food hall, willing his gaze not to stray to the front tables where Arla sat. When he reached the exit, Shard breathed a sigh of relief, and started down the main hall.
“Whorehound,” a man sneered at his back.
It wasn’t the first time an assembly member had called him the same, and it wouldn’t be the last.
“I’m talking to you,” the person boomed.
Why him? And why today?
Shard turned and smoothed his features at the sight of Drummond bearing down on him from the food hall.
The older man shook a finger in his face. “You tricked me last night.”
What? Oh, the sash thing.
“An honest mistake,” he answered flatly.
Drummond leaned into his personal space, and Shard narrowed his eyes.
“Don’t think I don’t see the way you stare at my Arla,” her father whispered. “And don’t think I’ll ever allow you to wed her.”
“The fact you see anything is surprising,” Shard confessed coolly. “If you saw more, perhaps you’d see what a controlling sonofabitch you are.”
Drummond blinked at him. “What nonsense are you talking?”
Ignorance was always something Shard had struggled to tolerate. “You turned your daughter into someone who’s afraid to love. Someone who is more comfortable wielding hate to get what she wants.”
“I thought you liked her.” He stared at Shard.
Like. What he’d felt was far greater than that. He laughed harshly. “I did. Still do.”
“In her mother’s absence, I’ve raised her to be strong. She’ll marry well because of me. And herself. You can’t think I’m alone in my plans. Arla has always been an active participant.”
The comment hit hard, simply because he knew it to be true.
“You’ve ensured the failure of the thing you most want to achieve, Drummond. If you’d left her to her own devices, she might’ve been queen. Now, I merely hope that she finds a man who can undo the harm you’ve caused, so she can be happy.”
Shard: A Tainted Accords Novella, 4.8 Page 3