“Cenric is going?”
“Yes.” Joel took a deep breath and grasped Gib’s hands. They trembled together, and Joel could barely meet Gib’s eyes. “Gib, I’m going, too.”
Joel watched from the shadowed enclave as the two young men trained. Light poured through the rafters above them onto the bare floor of the arena, illuminating the golden tiles as Didier and Gibben sparred. Equipped with practice swords made from thick maple, they danced across the area in a fury of angry grunts and sighs as each tried to best the other.
Diddy, taller and broader, would have seemed the likely victor, but though smaller and half a head shorter, Gib’s agility couldn’t be overlooked. More than once, he rushed the prince, and Diddy was barely able to sidestep his friend and avoid a nasty jab to the ribcage.
Joel waited until they stopped for a reprieve before making his presence known. Clearing his throat, he stepped away from the marbled archway and onto the arena floor. Gib refused to look Joel in the eye, though Diddy flashed a weak smile in the man’s direction.
Sweat covered the prince’s forehead and dripped down the length of his pointed nose. “Cousin, hello,” he greeted. “The arena is perhaps the last place I’d expect to see you.”
“Well, these are strange times we find ourselves thrown into,” Joel replied, clasping his hands together in front of his body.
Diddy nodded solemnly. “Strange indeed.” He turned long enough to replace his weapon on the rack stationed against the far wall, and his personal servant, Gideon, scampered over to help the prince remove his wrist and leg armor. Diddy’s next words were tentative and hushed. “I’m sorry to hear you’re leaving again. You’ve only just returned.”
Gib’s shoulders stiffened as he busied himself with gathering training equipment that had been strewn across the arena. Joel grimaced when his companion still refused to meet his gaze. He’s upset. “Someone has to go. Cenric was brave enough to volunteer, and as his understudy, I have a duty to follow.”
“I’m sure everything will be all right.” The enthusiasm in Diddy’s voice was forced, and the way the prince wrung his hands together betrayed his nerves. “Cenric is the best envoy Father could ever send, not to mention Uncle—Seneschal Koal will be there to assure Arden isn’t taken advantage of during negotiations.”
Hoping Diddy was right, Joel couldn’t help the feeling of dread seeping into his heart. Doing his best to maintain his composure, he mustered a smile and replied, “Indeed. I’m sure the journey will be quite dull. Mostly politics and mountains of paperwork—”
They heard a deafening crash as Gib slammed a helmet onto the weaponry rack. The sound echoed off the palace walls, and both Diddy and Joel went still. The tension in the air was so thick Joel found it hard to breathe.
Diddy’s face was drawn when he next spoke. “I’m going to take my leave.” The prince gripped Joel’s shoulder in passing. “Promise me you’ll come see Mother and the others before you leave.”
“Of course I will.”
Diddy nodded his head once, stiffly, and departed without another word. Gideon followed only a pace behind, as silent and steadfast as a shadow. Within moments, Joel and Gib were the only two remaining in the arena.
“Might we talk?” Joel asked, taking a tentative step forward.
Horrible silence followed the question. Gib seemed determined not to respond, choosing instead to rearrange the weapon rack while keeping his back to Joel. He wanted so desperately to go to Gib but forced himself to wait. He has every right to be angry, to be scared.
At long last, just when Joel thought he might go mad from the ugly quiet, Gib uttered a sigh and said, “How did you know I’d be here?”
“We’ve been together almost three years, Gibben. You think I don’t know your habits?” The mage smiled wistfully. “It was either here or the dining hall—”
“I’m glad you find this funny.”
Joel winced. “I know you’re mad. What can I do to fix this?” He extended a hand, offering it to Gib. “Please—”
Gib swung around to face Joel, features contorted in a mask of pain. “You can’t fix it now! You’re leaving tomorrow! You’re going to the Northern Empire. I’m no fool, Joel Adelwijn. Don’t try to convince me there’s no peril! We both know damned well how dangerous it will be!”
“Please, Gib, let me explain.”
Gib’s brown eyes, normally so full of optimism and hope, speared Joel, cutting through flesh and bone, down to his very core. “Why?” Gib croaked. “Why do you have to go?”
Joel approached his companion, keeping both hands in the air. “It’s complicated, but I promise to answer your questions. Just–just calm down, all right?”
Gib crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the floor.
Joel motioned toward the stairwell which led outside. “Why don’t we go onto the balcony? We can talk there, and the fresh air will do us both some good.” He reached a tentative hand forward, resting it on Gib’s arm. “Please?”
Gib’s shoulders lost some of their rigidity at the touch. “All right. Fine.” He turned on his heels without another word, and Joel had to trot to keep up.
Golden sunlight poured through the doorway as they passed through. Below, the palace courtyard sprawled across the ground like a blanket. Wilted shrubs and browning trees lined the edge of the lawn, rising up to collide with the horizon and spreading shadows across the tufts of grass still clinging to life. The sky above was cloudless, an endless sea of deep blues and reds stretching as far as the eye could see. A light breeze cut through the air, blowing leaves around the courtyard below. Joel wrapped his arms around his shoulders to ward off the frigid autumn wind. The waning sun was doing little to warm the deep-seated chill in his bones.
Gib went to the edge of the balcony and leaned over it, resting his forearms on the white stone railing that encased the balcony.
Joel set a hand on the rail as he came to stand beside Gib. The breeze whipped hair about Joel’s face as he collected his thoughts. “I know I only just returned,” he finally began. “I didn’t plan on leaving again, but when Cenric was called upon by King Rishi to act as chief envoy on this mission, as his understudy, it was my duty to go.”
“Horseshit!” Gib spat. “Your internship papers were signed! You said yourself you were going to see Cenric this morning to get them signed. Cenric can’t make you go if you’re no longer his understudy!”
“The papers were never signed.”
Deep despair crossed Gib’s face, and Joel wanted so badly to reach for it but stayed his hand. He stared forward, gazing at the setting sun, because looking at Gib was causing Joel’s heart to ache too terribly to bear.
“I had the chance to sign them. They were right in front of me.”
Gib shook his head, confusion etched across his features.
Oh Goddesses, give me strength. “I couldn’t.” Joel swallowed, still unable to meet his companion’s eyes. “I wouldn’t.”
“I don’t—I don’t understand,” Gib whispered. “What do you mean, ‘you wouldn’t’?”
A deep, somber silence fell over them, but the pounding in Joel’s ears was deafening. He wanted to run and hide. He wanted to fade into the shadows and disappear rather than stay here and admit the way he felt to Gib. No. I have to tell him. He has a right to know. Joel closed his eyes and let out a breath of air. It’s time.
The words tumbled from his mouth in a rush. “Something overcame me while I was in Shantar—a feeling, a responsibility to Arden. A duty. Surely you know of what I speak?” Joel dared to look at the other man now, searching his endless brown eyes for some kind of understanding. All Joel found was hurt. “Our country needs people like you and me, Gib. So many people aren’t given a voice, and we are lucky enough to be in a position to change the world. One day, you will sit on the High Council. You’ll bring the change Arden so desperately needs. And I will be an envoy, traveling afar to promote peace between Arden and our neighbors. If I can do anything to prev
ent warfare—to prevent lives on both sides of the border from being lost—I have to try. We can change the world, Gib, I know it.”
“I was under the impression we were going to change the world together, side by side.” Gib’s voice shook, though Joel could see Gib was trying to remain stoic. “You leaving wasn’t part of the plan.”
The mage took hold of Gib’s hands. “I love you. I cherish every single moment we’ve spent together, and I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.”
“Then why are you leaving? If you cherish what we have, why are you leaving again? You were gone for six moonturns, Joel. Six! And now you’re going again—possibly never to return! I’ve tried to be as supportive as I can, but dammit Joel, I can’t—it isn’t fair!” Gib threw his hands into the air. “There, I said it. If that makes me a selfish person, fine, I don’t care anymore. I’m not okay with you going to the Northern Empire! I’m not okay with living in fear that you might not return! I don’t support this decision.”
Joel grabbed for his companion’s hands, but Gib tore away from Joel completely and took a step back.
“Gib, please—just listen to me!”
Gib turned and stormed toward the door, and Joel was certain Gib was about to leave, but instead, he put his back to one of the great pillars that supported the roof and slid to the floor. He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “Nothing you can say will fix this.”
“Gib—” Joel sat beside him. “I promise I’ll come back.”
“You can’t promise anything! You have no idea what you’re getting into.”
“I have to go. My father is old. He needs me. Cenric needs me. I’m a mage. I can offer both of them protection, if ever the need arises.”
Gib gave Joel a sharp look. “And what of the army of mages the Northern Empire is rumored to wield? You’re only one mage, Joel. What will you do should the Empire betray you? You can’t defend yourself against an entire army if they choose to attack.”
“What if they don’t want to attack us, Gib? What if they actually want to peacefully treat with us? What if by going I help open a trade agreement between our nation and theirs? Or create a way for the exchange of knowledge? I’m sure there are things we can teach each other, if only minds are open to the idea. We only stand to benefit from going! And I will learn invaluable lessons from my mentor. Cenric is the most respected ambassador in Arden, and I’d be crazy not to follow him while I have the chance.”
“Even if all these wonderful dreams of yours come to pass—even if you come back from the Northern Empire, then what? You’ll come home just to be sent somewhere else?”
“As an envoy, I’d go wherever I’m needed next—wherever assistance is called for.”
Gib took fistfuls of his own hair with both hands, shaking his head. “I don’t know how we’re supposed to have a life together if you’re always gone.”
Joel leaned his head against the marble pillar behind him and slammed his eyes shut. I know. You’re right. It’s not fair for you. I can’t expect you to put your life on hold for me. Cenric’s warning suddenly flew to the forefront of Joel’s mind. The ambassador had said sacrifices would need to be made, should Joel choose to be an envoy. The life of an envoy is one of solitude. He dared to look at his companion, and the agony in Gib’s eyes was unbearable, heart-wrenching. You’d wait for me. I know you would, but I can’t put you through that. I can’t be selfish. I have to let you go. No matter how much I love you. “I don’t think this is going to work.”
“What?”
“If I’m to be an envoy, I’ll be gone more than I’m not. It would be selfish to ask you to live in such a way—putting your life on hold each and every time I go.” Joel sucked in an agonizing breath, his lungs feeling raw. “I can’t ask that of you. You deserve better.”
Gib wiped at his wet eyes. “So that’s it? You’re leaving and we’re through?”
Joel blinked away tears of his own. I love you. I love you more than anyone else in the world. But I can’t have you worrying about me. You deserve someone who will be there for you. You deserve to be happy. I have to let you go. He nodded once. “It’s best this way. You may not agree now, but you will someday.”
“You’re right. I don’t agree.” Gib’s voice was hollow as he stood. “But you’ve made your decision, and I will respect it.” He turned and walked away without another word.
Joel listened to the other man’s receding footsteps until the sound faded out completely and only silence remained. Gasping wetly, Joel raised his eyes to the setting sun. Brilliant rays of gold lit up the sky, dusting the world below with warmth—only he felt none of it. He felt nothing but sharp, bitter cold imprisoning his heart in a tomb of ice. Oh Goddesses. I’ve broken him. I’ve broken his heart. The mage buried his face in his hands and wept.
Gib’s heart ached as he wandered aimlessly through the streets of Silver. He barely noticed darkness had already blanketed the city or how cold he was—he’d forgotten his cloak back at the arena. His body and mind were numb, and all he could do was trod onward.
The events of the day were a jumbled blur in his head, and try as he might, Gib couldn’t make sense of any of it. I don’t understand. I woke up this morning wrapped in Joel’s embrace. He smiled at me, kissed me, and we spoke of our love to one another—and now, just like that, I may never see him again. I didn’t even know anything was wrong.
Everything had happened so fast—the news of the mission to the Northern Empire, Joel’s announcement that he wanted to be an envoy, the ending of their relationship. In the blink of an eye, Gib’s world had been shattered. He didn’t even know how to pick up the crumbled ruins of his life.
Sudden light illuminated his path as a man moved along the opposite side of the street, setting fire to each of the lamps lining the cobblestone path. The man gave a polite nod, but Gib couldn’t find it within himself to return the gesture. Indeed, he felt as though he’d never smile or be merry again.
Laughter and music filtered through the alleyways, and Gib finally had the awareness to realize he’d found his way to Traders Row. Close by, patrons on the steps of the Rose Bouquet drank and danced. None of them seemed to notice Gib as he hurried by. He didn’t want to hear laughter or music or risk running into any of his friends. He just wanted to be alone.
Gib’s feet moved of their own accord, and he soon found himself standing in front of the Adelwijn estate. He approached the wrought iron gate, setting his hands against the cold metal as he peered into the dark courtyard beyond. So much of Gib’s life had taken place within these stone walls. And now there’s nothing for me. Just a house brimming with forsaken memories. He blinked back tears.
Actually, that wasn’t true. Gib had belongings here. Clothing, books, and several other personal items. He glanced over his shoulder, wondering if Joel had made his way home yet. Should I go inside and get my things? Gib debated in silence. Surely Joel wouldn’t appreciate Gib’s belongings taking up space. They’d serve to be nothing but a bitter reminder of their failed romance.
I’ll just go in and quietly collect my things and be gone before anyone even knows I’m there. Not allowing himself time to second guess his decision, Gib slipped through the gate. He hoped to go unnoticed, though the servants and Lady Mrifa were used to Gib coming and leaving. Goddesses, don’t let Joel be here yet. I won’t be able to hold myself together if I have to look upon his face again.
He saw no sign of Joel or any of the other Adelwijn family members inside, though faint candlelight could be seen beneath the door leading to the servant quarters. Gib whisked past the closed door, hoping to draw neither Tabitha’s nor Otos’ attention, and headed for the stairwell.
Joel’s room—the same room Gib had shared for the past three years—lay abandoned. Indeed, things were as they had been when the companions had left together that morning. Gib touched shaking fingertips to the quilted bedspread as he passed by. How was it possible they’d left the room laughing and joking
earlier and now Gib was here to pack his bags?
Gib wiped a tear from his eye and rustled through a pile of clothing until he found his rucksack. Losing the battle to despair, he began to fling things into it. Clothing, books, a pair of boots—Gib paused when his hands landed on Tales of Fae. No. This is Joel’s. It stays here. He set the book aside and continued to collect his things until, at last, he could find nothing more. There. It’s done. Now there’s nothing more to remind Joel of me. Gib hoisted the bag onto his shoulder. Time to leave. He turned and left the room without a further glance, knowing it would have done him in.
The rucksack was lighter on his shoulder than he would have expected. Did he really have so little at the estate? It seemed like he’d spent so much of his life here, and he could hardly comprehend how easily he was able to remove himself—though he’d have to come back for formal goodbyes to the girls and Lady Mrifa. Even Otos and Tabitha had grown friendly with him over the past three years. It was going to be like saying goodbye to family. Fresh tears threatened to pour from his eyes. Don’t do this now. Not here. No more tears tonight.
Steeling himself for the journey back to the dormitory, Gib hoped to get out the door without catching anyone’s attention. And he sure as hell hoped to put some distance between himself and the estate before Joel showed up. Gib didn’t want to make this messy. Enough feelings had been hurt already.
The front door was in sight, and fortunately, no one else was. He could perhaps get out of here unnoticed after all—
“Why you? Why must it always be you to risk your life?” Lady Mrifa’s voice came from the dining room. It was a higher pitch than Gib was used to hearing, and she sounded like she’d been crying. “You even said King Rishi wanted you to stay. Why are you doing this?”
Gib debated leaving. He had no place listening to this, but if he passed by they would see him. If he turned around and went to the back door, Otos and Tabitha were sure to hear him. He had no clear means of escape.
Nightfall: Book Two of the Chronicles of Arden Page 11