held her against him for a moment longer. With a deep breath, he forced himself to step back and meet Qorach’s gaze. “Keep her safe.”
Qory inclined his head.
Talyn left her to head toward Lorens’s office, down the hall from the prime commander’s lounge where Felicia was being guarded by Sentella.
He just “adored” the way the other soldiers’ gazes went from his rank to his bald head and back again. It was obvious they wanted to comment, but didn’t dare since he was now second only to Lorens in rank… he even currently outranked his mother.
And it took all his willpower not to self-consciously brush his hand over the light dusting of hair that was just starting to grow back. He refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing how much their judgment stung. They weren’t worth it.
Scanning his hand, he half expected the door to not open. To everyone’s surprise, including his, it did, and admitted him into Lorens’s office, which was still in perfect order from the last Andarion who’d held it. Nothing had been packed or removed from the room.
Talyn frowned. “You’re not moving?”
Lorens shook his head. “I doubt my rank advancement will be permanent.”
“Why?”
“Just thinking that if Cairie and her son are returned to succession, your mother will be the next prime commander.”
Talyn scowled at his assumption. “What makes you think that?”
“She’s the one they trust most, which is why they’re keeping her close to them in this time of crisis. They don’t know me or my loyalties. Not really. I would choose your mother over me, were I they.”
Made sense. But Talyn found it hard to believe that Lorens was so complacent. “You’re okay with that?”
Lorens smiled. “I’m the second-highest-ranking member of the armada, of course I’m okay with it. Personally, I don’t want the responsibility that comes with the PC’s office. I would take it if I were appointed, but I like the rank I held. Adjutant to the prime has been good to me.” Lorens handed him a small link. “Your access clearances are all in place. This runs on a secured network that only three of us can access. Me, you, and the ruling house. Which at this time is Tylie.”
He threw his hand up and the walls illuminated with news feeds for Talyn’s view. “Most of the riots have been quelled. The League is still after you, but I’ve notified them that they are to cease and desist, or be held in violation of our treaties. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean they’ll listen.”
True. Still, it was better than nothing. “Where’s the former tadara?”
“She’s fled with her personal guard. At this time, her exact location is unknown. The Sentella is after her, too. Jullien is also off-grid, as are Merrell and Chrisen. Last we heard, Jullien was headed toward his father’s empire. The rest of the Anatoles and ezul Nykyrians are in lockup, awaiting the return of Tylie and her court.” One screen lit up.
Talyn scowled at it.
“Finally… that’s the location of Merrell and Chrisen. They seem to be hiding on their father’s back property, on the outskirts of Eris. Would you like the honors of arresting them?”
He quirked a sarcastic brow. “You have to ask?”
Lorens laughed. “Make sure you take a team. Anything happens to you and I have to face my little sister. No offense, she scares me more than you do.”
Talyn snorted. “She scares me, too.”
Relishing this task, he left immediately to carry out his orders. He paused in the hallway as he caught sight of Syndrome’s little brother. “Captain Pinara?”
He snapped to attention and saluted Talyn immediately. “Sir!”
Talyn returned the salute. “At ease… You’re Farina’s youngest brother?”
Swallowing hard, he nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Then I think you’ll enjoy our assignment. We’re out to arrest Chrisen and Merrell Anatole.”
The vicious, hungry light in his eyes was one Talyn understood all too well. “Thank you, sir.”
“Grab an assault team you trust and meet me in the hangar.”
“Sir! Yes, sir!” The captain ran off to comply.
Talyn froze as he caught sight of himself in the window’s reflection. He barely recognized it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get used to not having his warrior braids. His mother had plaited them on his fourteenth birthday on their way home from his Endurance. Like all Andarions, he’d worn them as a source of pride.
You’re still a warrior. Still a Winged Batur.
Still a War Hauk.
No one could ever take away his will to fight. That was an integral part of his being.