Reign of Darkness (The Prince's Assassin #2) - Ariana Nash Page 0,107

be missed.” She placed a comforting hand on Niko’s back. “Rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Be careful,” he told her as she headed for the door.

“Careful is how I’ve survived this long, darling.”

She left. Yasir locked the door behind her with a satisfying clunk, and the weight of what might have come to pass with Amir fell from Niko’s shoulders. If it hadn’t been for the bar holding him up, he’d have sobbed on his hands and knees. “Yasir—” A fresh drink appeared in front of him.

“It’ll take the edge off.”

Niko wrapped his fingers around it. “He gave me up to Amir.” Saying it aloud made him want to throw the glass at the wall, and then the bottle. Instead, he swallowed the dark liquid down like the first, needing its heat to numb the pain.

Yasir nodded grimly. “Let’s get you cleaned up and, like the lovely lady said, we can talk tomorrow.”

Niko lifted a fresh glass to his lips but hesitated, the consequences of his actions only now catching up with him. Amir wouldn’t react well to his escape, and Vasili was alone in whatever was left of that palace. “You didn’t have to do this,” he’d whispered, but deep down, buried beneath all the hurt and pain, he began to wonder if there had ever been another way.

Chapter 33

The drink sat heavy on his empty gut, but it helped chase away the pain, both inside and out. Later, Yasir helped Niko strip out of the filthy clothes and clean the fresh whip burns, while explaining how he’d gotten Liam to safety before Seran had burned. Elf forces had sacked the ancient city. It was lost. He’d choked as he’d said it, and Niko almost wished he’d stayed with Yasir instead of chasing after Vasili.

The Stag and Horn’s water still ran, so Niko washed clean. Yasir helped pour the alcohol, either into the wounds or drinking glasses. It became a blur of hurt that ended with Niko passing out cold alongside Yasir in one of the few beds left in the building.

He woke alone and stared at the old timber beams crisscrossing the ceiling.

Damn Vasili. May Etara take his soul. He’d known Niko had refused to play his game, and he’d played it anyway.

If only Niko could hate him like he had before. Things had been simple between them then. Now, he wondered if he’d ever untangle the mess Vasili had made of his head and his heart.

Dressing in fresh clothes Yasir had provided, Niko descended the stairs to the bar and found Lady Maria already seated with Yasir at the single table in the middle of the vast bar area.

“Goodness, you look terrible, my lord.”

Niko grunted a reply and ran a hand through his messy hair. Now the alcohol had worn off, everything ached again. His head throbbed in time with his bruises and the beat of vengeance. “Don’t call me that.”

“Lord? It’s technically true,” Maria said. “Although, your title is Lord Bucland, not Yazdan, but a title is a title.”

“My lady, forgive me, but I’ve no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.” Weary and sore, he was struggling to keep up. Lordships were the last thing on his mind.

“Lord Bucland and his lady were found hanged from a tree.”

Niko pulled out a chair and dropped into it, then dragged both hands down his face. “What?”

“As his bastard son and with no other blood relatives, his estate is yours.”

Niko closed his eyes and sighed hard before opening them again. His mah’s family had been more than enough to occupy his thoughts. The last thing he needed was more familial drama. “I can’t deal with any of that now.” He propped an elbow on the table and rubbed at the ache across his brow. “Hanged from a tree?”

“Not elves, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Niko’s parents, Mah and Pah, had been found the same way. Or so he’d been told when he’d returned from the front. “Were they killed or did they hang themselves?”

Lady Maria arched a dark eyebrow. “Nikolas, what’s done is done.”

Killed then. Killed in the same manner as his parents. “Which tree?”

“Surely, that doesn’t—” Yasir cut off as Niko raised a hand.

“Which tree, Maria?” Niko asked.

“The old oak by the lake,” she said, and by the way she lowered her gaze, she knew exactly what it meant.

The same tree his parents had been cut from. That couldn’t be a coincidence. Or maybe it was and he was looking for connections where there were none because lately his whole