the tunnels.
42
KILLIAN
“Killian, would you please not do that.”
“Do what?” he asked, leaning farther over the balcony, attempting to determine precisely where the cave opening below was. The damned thing flooded at high tide, but he was relatively certain the Rainbow Ballroom was right above it.
“Lean over the edge like that,” Malahi said. “You’re going to fall and get yourself killed.”
He made a face at the ocean below. “I’m not going to fall. And even if I did, it’s not that far.”
“Far enough!”
“Let’s find out.” Hopping up onto the balustrade, Killian balanced easily, walking back and forth along it.
“You wouldn’t.” Malahi sat perched on a delicate metal chair, the hand holding her teacup frozen midair as she watched.
“Don’t tempt him,” Bercola grumbled. “Teriana, one of the Maarin Triumvir’s heirs, indoctrinated him into the joys of cliff diving when he was twelve. He’ll jump if for no other reason than to prove he can.”
At the mention of Teriana, Killian’s attention shifted to Lydia to see if she’d heard the reference to her friend, but she was inside the ballroom itself, helping Lena set up for archery practice. As if sensing his scrutiny, she turned, a faint smile rising to her lips.
A gust of breeze came from nowhere, buffeting him. Killian swayed, nearly losing his balance before jumping onto the balcony to conceal his loss of concentration.
Bercola was glowering at him and Malahi’s face was blanched, the cup in her hand trembling. “You worry too much,” he said, picking up the pot of tea and filling her cup before flopping down on the chair across from her.
Taking a sip, Malahi said, “You’re in awfully fine spirits.”
Killian was in good spirits.
True to her word, Malahi had slowly given up the horses to be slaughtered, the only two remaining in the stables Killian’s own, which she’d reluctantly spared because he’d need them in the weeks to come. She’d stripped the palace of blankets and excess clothing and had it distributed to those in need, and on top of improving the existing Crown shelters, she’d commandeered a number of empty residences, opening the doors to those who had nowhere to sleep. Circumstances were no less dire, but she was deeply in favor with the people.
Though if he was being honest with himself, Malahi’s popularity had little to do with his mood.
For nearly three weeks, he’d been meeting Lydia each night for a training session before they moved into the sewers, he and Finn handing out rations while Lydia, her face always carefully concealed, healed the children who required it. Finn’s kingdom of orphans wasn’t exactly thriving, but they were surviving. Not one had died since Lydia began her rounds, and if things continued this way the ship his mother was sending would be full to the brim with children when it departed for the safety of Serlania.
Sensing that Malahi was waiting for an answer, he shrugged. “It’s a beautiful day.” And because he knew it would annoy her, he added, “And I’ve just had breakfast with a beautiful girl.” Never mind that his stomach still growled, less than satisfied with his rations.
Malahi rolled her eyes, but he was spared the sharp side of her tongue when Lena called, “We’re ready, Captain.”
Offering Malahi his arm, Killian led her inside the ballroom, where she ensconced herself at a table filled with her writing materials, content to address her correspondence while he saw to the training of her bodyguard.
He’d had neither the time nor the resources to ensure the young women he’d hired were trained prior to beginning their duties, which had necessitated much of it happening on the job. Every one of them except Lydia was adept in a fistfight and handy with a knife, but for most, that was where their martial skill sets ended. Bercola handled much of their training, her ability to explain technique infinitely superior to his own, but he also relied a great deal on their ability to teach one another. Sonia, in particular, had a great deal of knowledge to share. She was currently leading the lesson.
“Surprised your northern girl isn’t better with a bow,” Malahi remarked, watching as Sonia showed Lydia how to hold her weapon. The young Gamdeshian woman’s brow creased as Lydia peppered her with endless questions, and Killian struggled not to smile. “She’s a brawler. And she’ll bite if pressed, so I wouldn’t advise it.”
“Doesn’t look like a brawler. She has all of her teeth.”
“So do I.” He grinned at her, hoping to deflect her interest from Lydia.