Chapter 19 - Lance - Anger Issues

                                    

                                          
"What about Nuallán?"
"I rather like that one. What does it mean?"
"Little Champion."
The Queen and I are making our rounds in the garden, and we've been discussing baby names to try and convince the King to agree with the options. The Queen wants something with a deep meaning, but the King wants him to be named Allerick. That's only if it's a boy. If it's a girl, he doesn't care for the name, which is why she so badly wants it to be a girl. We started with girl names, picking from the ones I offered her. Then she started talking about it being a boy and we've been scouring through names all the way from the bridge uniting the foyer and the throne room, and we're just now reaching the library. It doesn't seem that far, but with a pregnant woman who walks in a slow waddle, it's far.
"Conleád?" I suggest. "It means purifying fire."
Her finger drum contently on her stomach. "Oh, I do like that one. I think it's between Conleád and Alastair. Which do you think?"
"Both are an impeccable choice, my Queen."
"Well, you're no help at all," she scowls.
I bow my head, knowing full and well that I've been more help than her Ladies in Waiting in which she was complaining about not knowing how to be creative. I have my sister's odd obsession with names with unique meanings to thank for my usefulness in this matter. "My apologies-"
"Katarina!" I follow the Queen's gaze, finding Kat looking like she wants to be anywhere but walking toward us. Is it a bad thing that I'm secretly wishing for the same thing? I don't have anything against her, it's just hard to look at her without seeing some resemblance to Rose in her face.
She glances in the direction that she was heading as if debating the possibility of making a run for it, but she sighs and walks over with a sigh. "How can be of service, my Queen?" She asks with a curtsy.
"Which do you think is better: Conleád, or Alastair?" She couldn't just ask one of the twenty-four guards surrounding us that question.
"Uh..." She looks down at the Queen's stomach, then at me, and then quickly back to the Queen. "Alastair, I suppose."
"See," Claritia exclaims, turning to me. "That's being helpful."
"Without me having given those suggestions, you wouldn't have been in the debate in the first place," I point out.
She dismisses me with a wave of her hand. "Oh, hush. Where are you off to?" she asks Katarina.
"Garrison requested I relay a message to Aillard."
"Oh, well in that case take Arthur with you. He has to speak with Aillard anyway."
I see now why Darius doesn't like her matchmaking. "Yes, but I need to make sure you're safe in Siscilla's hands before leaving," I remind her. I also try to plead with her using my eyes, but that seems to go purposefully unnoticed.
"I have twenty-four guards surrounding me. I think I'll manage."
"I'm not taking any chances, my Queen." I bow my head again, hoping it'll do something. 
"Fine." I almost slouch in relief. "But you come with us." She doesn't even for Katarina to answer before grabbing her hand and pulling her along back toward her chambers. With a deep breath, I trail after them. 
If it weren't for the obvious difference in lineage, I'd say the Queen and my sister are practically mirror images stubbornness wise. My sister has always had a strong-willed personality, but it was honestly the last thing I expected after our first encounter with the Queen. Naturally, I should've thought she was, but she seemed so formal and calm in that first meeting that I didn't think of it. The past couple of days have been enough to prove me wrong. Though she didn't force me to play the piano that first night, she now demands that I do so when she doesn't like the silence. She even used the whole "it helps the baby's brain develop" excuse. I have a feeling Siscilla had something to do with that little fact.
Aside from the music, she's just generally stubborn. I'm not sure if it's the mood swings or if she's like this all the time. She hates it when I drum my fingers on the table or stare at plans all day. She also refuses my help unless it's helping her to stand from her bed or chair. She doesn't eat anything that smells of citrus, and she's always craving some kind of sweet pastry. The curtains must always be open to let the sunlight in, and the red velvet chair is strictly off-limits to everyone but her. That's not to mention that arguing with her is pointless. In the end, she's always right. 
Actually, I believe that's all women.
We turn the corner into the hallway that leads to her rooms, and I already see Siscilla walking towards us from the opposite hallway. Unfortunately, the Queen notices her too. She practically shoves Kat away from her. "Oh good, now you two can go."
As far as dismissals go, I'd say that's one of the rather pathetic ones I've received, and I live with my father who's not only the Jade King, but the King of sorry dismissals. I still walk her to the door and wait until Siscilla and six guards follow her in, before turning to Kat. "Shall we?"
She nods, but I don't miss how she keeps pointedly avoiding my stare. We start walking back down the hall towards the stairs. I'm not entirely sure where the King and Aillard are at the moment, but the King's chambers are our best bet. Not to mention that Kat's not guiding us elsewhere, and if anyone would know where he is it's someone who hears the movements of everyone in the castle. I'm kind of envious that she and the other servants just have that type of relationship where gossip flows like wind, and despite being the best ears for gossip and false rumors, they still trust one another. If Fauna and I were like that – which we're not with gossip – then we'd be an even bigger headache to our father. Gods know he loves us, but he still has his limits.
Kat glances over at me for the fifth time since we started walking up the stairs. "As much as I like trying to guess what's going on in that head of yours, I'd prefer you to say it."
"Sorry." She snaps her head back toward the ground. 
I mentally kick myself again. She probably thinks I'm going to kidnap her or do worse, and I'm over here not really doing anything to make her think otherwise. "My sister may not be here," I say, hoping my voice sounds as soft as I mean it to. "But that doesn't mean you need to hold your tongue. Trust me when I say that my sister's mouth is worse than anyone else's in this world."
"Don't I know it?" She lets out an airy laugh and I count it as a victory. "No offense, but I'm more scared of her than I am of you."
A slow smile rises on my lips. "None taken, I know how much of a pain in the ass she can be."
"I wouldn't say she's...okay yeah, she's a pain in the ass." We walk up the last step laughing. Her laugh is light and sweet, and despite everything else, I find myself wanting to hear it again. 
What in ten hells is wrong with me? 
We drift into another silence, the only sound of her footsteps scuffing on the floor. They grow quieter after a bit and I glance at her tensed shoulders and changed gait, and I'm tempted to laugh again. It's always funny watching people try to make their feet as quiet as mine. Some have tried widening their legs or crouching low, others lock their knees or overpronounce their heel-toe ankle movements. Every single one of them looks ridiculous, but I've never seen someone focus so hard on tiptoeing while trying to still walk normally as Kat is now.
"What?" she asks when she notices my stare.
"Nothing," I answer, shaking my head. She goes back to walking weirdly, and this time I can't keep in my laugh.
"What?"
"Is that how my sister and I look like when we walk?"
She opens her mouth to say something, but then changes her mind and goes back to her normal walk, purposely dragging her shoes on the ground. I see why my sister likes her. It's not often you find a woman who adapts so quickly to you. The only girls who act semi-normal around me are the assassins back at the keep, and even then they're only interested because it'd be quite the popularity increase if they slept with me. The same goes for my sister and the men in the house. You'd be surprised how many of them I caught trying to sneak into her room at night.
Kat keeps dragging her feet, resulting in her toe getting caught on a crack and her body lurching forward. I laugh again but clamp my lips shut when she gives me a glare that looks unnervingly like Fauna. Perhaps my sister is rubbing off on her a little too much.
We come up to the King's chambers and I count the thirty guards lined on each side of the walls. Aillard stands directly in front of the two golden doors, the handles formed into the royal sigil. His expression turns hard when he spots us. He quickly tells the guard to his left something before walking down the hall at a rushed pace. Kat and I exchange glances before following him to the small office he uses for when he's too lazy to walk to his rooms.
The décor is simple and all in the same shade of walnut. There's a storage compartment, desk, leather chair, and window behind the desk. It's like a smaller version of my father's office, only...less intimidating. He doesn't sit in his chair, instead leaning against the front of the desk with his arms crossed and face still cold. Guess I'll try and make this as quick as possible.
"We're doing everything you've asked," he says flatly.
"Good. Any questions I need to answer or complaints I should take note of."
"Questions, no. Complaints..." His gaze darkens. "There are only a few hundred flying around."
"Well, I'll be sure to write them down and then enjoy watching them burn in my hearth."
He pushes off of the desk but makes no move to step closer. "Are you always this crood?"
"Only when I've attempted to be gracious by giving people the reinforcement they need and am given nothing but bullshit in return. Luckily for you and the rest of your shitheads, I ran out of fucks to give years ago." He rises to his full height and I feel my muscles twitch in preparation for his swing.
Sadly for me, Kat steps between us cutting off the start of his forward movement. "Garrison sent me to tell you that he and the others will need a relief guard for tonight. Six hours, if you can manage."
He doesn't acknowledge her at all, and I find my patience running low and anger spiking. "I do hope you heard her. I'd hate to have her repeat herself."
"Relief guard. Six hours," he repeats dryly. "Anything else you and the whore need to say?" Every ounce of control over my anger snaps. I feel as my killing calm settles beneath my skin.
Whore. Who in Helias does he think he is?
I don't care about the title before his name, don't care about the consequences waiting for me as one of my Sinister Blades slips into my hand. It's one thing to dismiss her with a wave of his hand or even call her a low-born bastard – which I still hate – but a whore? 
Someone call Henny from the morgue.
I take a step toward him and that smug look on his face, but Kat steps back pushing her back against my chest. Her hand slips over mine wrapped around the blade's handle a second later. I try to push closer to him but she holds strong. How she knew what I moved to do without looking over her shoulder? I don't know.
"Thankfully, we don't," she replies for us. 
She digs in her feet and slowly backs us toward the door. "And the next time you feel like calling me a whore, you should make sure no one is around to hear it. Because I won't be there to keep him - or his sister - from tearing out your feeble heart and making you beg for death in answer to the slow, and explicit cut of their blades." She snakes her free arm around me opening the door and then shoving me through it before I can shuck off her grasp and launch my knife at the target right between his eyes that I've been honing in on.
I keep trying to shove back through, but she's stronger than she looks and slams the door closed with her foot while still holding me off. I'm still pushing for another thirty seconds or so before I bite the inside of my cheek and leash my anger. She still stands between me and the mocking door, an eye on my hand and the other on my feet. I assume my sister was the one to tell her where to look to spot someone about to make a move. The fact that she had to use it on me is enough to dissolve most of the anger.
"Are you done raging?" she asks.
"For now." I sheath my knife, relax my stance, and ease my tense shoulders.
"I thought Clare was joking when she said that you two are overprotective."
"Did she promise or just state the fact?"
"Promise."
"Then she wasn't joking. Promises are the only thing you can trust about us."
"That and your short tempers." I huff my agreement. "Come on." She nods back toward the stairs. "If we're out here when he walks out, then I won't stop you from slitting his throat." She heads down the hall toward the stairs, not bothering to check her shoulder to see if I follow.
Part of me wants to kick down the door and pin Aillard to that pretty desk of his, and then the annoying good part of me tells me to follow her. The latter wins, in the end, my feet begrudgingly moving to catch up. My anger gets easier to rein in the further away from him we get, but the glares from the guards in the halls make it difficult to not push them through the nearest window. If Kat wasn't here I might've been committing every thought that is currently running through my head. It's a wonder Garrison is still alive by the way Fauna talks about him.
"You threatened him rather nicely back there," I say trying to keep my thoughts from turning to actions.
She glances sidelong at me. "Your sister's a horrible influence."
"We both are," I agree. "Apologies if you end up with a dark soul."
"Well, I'd have to have a soul for that to happen." I look at her entirely concerned. 
Five days. Today is only the sixth day we've been here, and in the five whole days so far, my sister has doomed Kat from whatever innocence she hailed from. Gods graces save her. "But I accept your apology, though I'm sure it's not entirely the truth."
"Why would I not be sorry for the dark path my sister is dragging you down?" I question.
"Because you secretly like that I have a dark side."
"Everyone has a dark side," I point out.
She shrugs. "Maybe, but who doesn't like a girl with an edge as sharp as their blade?" I again look at her concerned, but she just keeps smiling contently to herself.
I'm not going to lie, she's not wrong, but it's still unsettling that she likely heard that from my deranged sister. Sharp as their blade. I mean that's entirely Fauna's words. I will, however, give her credit for teaching Kat how to plant her feet effectively when trying to hold back someone of larger weight than her. I don't think she's gotten to the lesson that had Kat knowing that the knife was in my hand, but that just makes it more impressive. 
I glance down at her hands, remembering the death grip she had on me to keep my arm at my side. I move to look away before she notices, but my eyes snag on something staining her fingers. I don't need to look long to know what it is.
"Katarina." I snatch her hand and pry her fingers from her palm, making her wince. It's not as deep as the cut I had yesterday, but it's still long enough to slow the clogging and not leave a small scar. "Why didn't you tell me that I cut you?"
"My hand slipped," she explains shyly. So at odds with her demeanor a second ago. "It wasn't your fault, and it's shallow. I'll be fine."
I press into her palm checking for any possible torn muscle or ligaments. Her fingers clench in response. A good sign. I don't give her a chance to argue before grabbing her wrist and pulling her back down the hall.
"Where are we going?"
"The Healer's Tower."
"I'm fine. It's just a cut."
"A cut in which I caused-"
"My hand slipped."
"And if I had bit my tongue and kept my arms at my side rather than slip the blade into my hand, you wouldn't have needed to stop me, and your hand wouldn't have slipped and sliced your palm. This is my doing, and as such, I require seeing it tended to. If you try and run away," I add when she tries twisting her wrist out of my grasp. "Then I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry you there if I have to." She stops resisting, and I loosen my grip.
I should've taken note of the blood on the metal, but I was too busy with my emotions to notice. How long would she have gone without telling me or my sister about the cut? Fauna would've likely noticed it the moment she walked in and then stormed into my rooms to beat the crap out of me for being so idiotic. I deserve a slap in the face for the negligence, maybe even another slice in my hand of my own. An innocent getting caught in the crossfire is one thing, but failing to notice is an entirely separate situation. Both lessons I had to learn the hard way to remember.
When we enter the Healer's Tower I notice the scared looks when they see me, then my hand on her wrist, and the cut on her hand. The last thing I need is them thinking that I'm so cruel as to cut a servant's hand because she brought me purple grapes rather than green ones. I drop her hand and walk to the nearest Sitara. 
She doesn't notice us until we're standing right in front of her, and the pleasant smile that's ready to help turns into straight fear. Saints, I hate that look. "Ca-Can I help you?"
"She has a wound in need of healing." She glances at Kat, then nods furiously before running off to a supply table.
"You could be a little more cordial," Kat seethes.
"And how do you suppose I do that while I'm dressed like this and have a very well-known and descriptive reputation?"
"Try not talking like you're debating stabbing them."
"I don't sound like that," I say in a tone that says otherwise. She raises an eyebrow. "Okay, now I hear it."
The healer comes back with a bowl of clean water and a towel in one hand, a vile of what looks like gold dust in the other. She makes quick work of cleaning the blood away, then dips her finger in the pixie dust, and waves it over Kat's palm. The skin cells multiply and fill the gap between the two sides seamlessly. I've seen healer's magic at work before, and felt it several times on my injuries throughout the years. It feels like when you've sat on your leg for too long then go to stand and find your leg feeling like a thousand ants are running along it. Sometimes it tickles, others it annoys the crap out of me. 
We have a trained Sitara back at the House of Jade who tends to all of my and my sister's wounds. She knits the skin together perfectly, making it look like nothing ever happened. It's why we don't have as many scars as people think.
We thank the young woman for her help and then head back to the Queen's chambers. The Anevay is no doubt already done with the Queen and now waiting for me to return. The Healer on High isn't just gifted with the magic of healing, but she can stop a heartbeat dead in a few seconds without needing to lay a finger on you. If someone somehow gets past the guard, they won't get past her. She could constrict your lungs so you suffocate, or block your spinal nerves so that you lose feeling in everything but your face. If I can't be in the Queen's defense, then she is. Thinking on it now, I probably could've just taken Kat to the Queen's rooms and the Anevay rather than to the Healer's Tower. 
Oh well, I needed the extra walk to cool down and view of this tower anyway.
We walk down the halls quietly, and only when we reach the doorway that leads to the Queen's Garden do I stop and turn to Kat. "I really am sorry about your hand."
She nods but doesn't meet my eyes. It kills me to know that whatever small agreement we came to could be over because of my idiocy. "I know, but it wasn't your fault."
"I had a part in it though, and for that, I apologize."
"Then I accept your apology and thank you for having it healed. I would've just cleaned and wrapped it until it healed on its own if I'm being honest." She rubs at the newly formed skin. 
"Why? The healer's services are free."
"Yeah, but I always feel like an idiot servant is the last thing they want to bother themselves with. Especially with such a small thing as a tiny cut."
"First of all, it wasn't a tiny cut," I argue, taking a step forward. Her eyes snap up to mine, so I stop. "And second, a Sitara will take any chance to use their knowledge as much as possible, small cuts included. The magic of healing is no easy thing to master, and if it's not used after a certain amount of time, it starts to take a toll on its bearer."
"How do you know that?"
"My friend's a healer. She taught me what she could." She nods knowing that the name of that friend is pointless in asking for. Little does she know, that it was my mother who taught me that little fact.
We stand there in awkward silence, the sound of rustling servants and the shifting armor of the guards nearby filling our ears. I know I need to get back to the Queen, but at the same time, I find myself enjoying the seconds that tick by.
"I um... I should get to my chores," Kat says slowly backing down the steps to the stone path. "Hannah will kill me if I'm late to help her with the laundry."
I nod, letting her go despite my own wishes. "Then I won't keep you any longer. Until next time, Katarina." I lower my head to her, slightly bowing at the waist. She seems a bit taken aback by it, not that I blame her. I doubt she's ever been bowed to by anyone, but I respect her for her bravery and good nature, so I did it as a show of that respect. 
Her brows burrow with confusion as she continues to walk backward. "Uh, yeah...until next time, Arthur."
I watch her walk off through the vibrant garden, the sun shining gold through the archway.