he’s returned every single one of the kidnapped Night Realm females?”
“As he should.”
“Personally,” Kirian tacks on. “He’s delivered them to my door himself.”
“He didn’t do that for me. The few women we’ve had go missing were recovered, but he sent a warrior in his place.”
“Maybe that’s because he doesn’t feel welcome.”
I shrug. It’s true that there’s a general distaste for anything having to do with the Day Realm in my kingdom. Even the transferred soldiers, like Tibbs, end up working ten times harder to prove themselves as worthy.
Kirian lowers his voice to a whisper. “Zander’s been busy. He goes to the auctions undercover. He saves the women and arrests the men responsible for their abductions. The public executions have been very effective at lessening the female trade.”
Silent, I try to put myself in Zander’s shoes for a minute. He was born into chaos, with a mother who was treated as nothing more than a sex slave. His father kept him in isolation in that castle, never allowing him to join in battle like other men. Then, after over two thousand years of living under his father’s thumb, Zander murdered the king and inherited a broken kingdom.
He’s got a jacked-up power, too. He’s the only griffin shifter I’ve ever heard of, just like I’m the only Dream Walker I know.
When I think about it, he and I have more in common than I thought. Like him, I kept a portion of my powers a secret for most of my life, only revealing my slumber vibes when it was absolutely necessary. Until Kirian and Gia had their final showdown, no one except for my parents knew I could put people to sleep.
Something else I can relate to—I know what it’s like to be disrespected. The people of Valora don’t give Zander and me enough credit. We’ve been treated as an afterthought, while Kirian’s always been the golden king and literally the middleman, since his kingdom is between the Day Realm and mine. Not to mention, he has blood ties to both royal families.
“I’ve been too hard on Zander,” I finally admit. “From now on, I’ll think of him as a friend.”
“Good.” Kirian smiles. “We’ll be like one big happy family.”
“Whoa.” I raise my hands. “Hold your horses. He’s your cousin, not mine.”
The sound of a throat clearing behind me makes me startle, and I swivel to see Isla. I’m surprised I didn’t hear her coming, but I remember when Kirian first got his sight back. How it threw off his other senses for a while and took him time to adjust.
“I’m glad you’re both here.” After curtsying, Isla blinks at Kirian and me with red-rimmed eyes. “I have a favor to ask. A big one.”
“Yes?” I prompt her to continue.
“Please bury Tibbs in the Sacred Cemetery.”
Kirian and I exchange a surprised glance. That ground is reserved for royalty and the citizens of Dawn and Dusk. While dying in the line of duty is considered one of the highest honors, it isn’t an automatic in for the special graveyard.
Deciding to consider Isla’s idea, I ask, “Did Tibbs talk about this with you?”
“No, but he wanted to live in Sterling someday. It was his ultimate goal. If he’d been able to accomplish it, he would’ve been buried there.”
I can’t deny Isla’s reasoning. If Tibbs had lived, I have no doubt he would’ve achieved his aspirations. It’s not his fault his life was cut short. In fact, I shoulder the blame. He was my responsibility while he was alive, and he still is, even though he’s gone.
Inclining my head, I grant Isla’s request. “We’ll go there first thing after we get to land.”
“Really?” She sounds wary, like she didn’t expect me to give in so easily.
“Really.”
“You’re a great king.” A wobbly smile appears on her face as she turns away, and there’s a lightness about her as she descends to the lower level to retreat to her cabin.
Kirian gives me an approving nod. “Thank you for that.”
“It’s the right thing to do. I should’ve thought of it myself.”
This detour will set us back another day, but I can’t say I’m unhappy about it. It’s just more time with my mate before the inevitable.
What the inevitable is? I still have no clue.
Before I can sink too deep into thought, Linus approaches carrying three cups of ale. “When we have a death on the water, it’s customary for us to share a drink and tell a few tales about the deceased.”
Now that I can do. I think