Excerpt

Chapter 1

Cove sighed heavily as he gazed at his reflection in his small bathroom’s mirror. He barely recognized the weary, stress-lined and exhausted face that stared back at him. It looked like a shell of a man, the hollow husk that was all that remained of a young man who’d once had the world at his fingertips before hatred, poor choices, and ill-placed trust had torn it all away from him.

The environment he lingered in didn’t help his appearance either. Cove had lived in the Realm of Darkness for five years now, long exiled from the Realm of Water, the place he’d once called home. He’d lived in the Dark for so long that the dim lighting and chilly temperatures no longer fazed him. At thirty years old, he had neither job nor money, subsisting solely on the kindness of a foreign ruler who’d been willing to take him in despite…everything….

Cove sighed even more heavily. His life seemed nothing but a cruel joke. Not what he had expected it to be nor what he’d wanted it to be. And yet there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Banished forever from the Realm of Water meant he’d lost his citizenship. Even if he were ever allowed to return for any reason, no one there would ever offer him work again. He’d be lucky if he could even find a place to live in his home country with a record of banishment hanging over his head. The Water was far too conservative to let slide such a transgression, even if it were one day forgiven by the powers that be. And their forgiveness—and oh but how he loathed that term, for “forgiveness” implied that he’d done something wrong—was little more than a pipe dream. After all, the “pristine” political leaders of the Water never made mistakes, did they?

Cove sneered at himself in the mirror and turned away to return to his bedroom. He began putting on fresh clothing to follow the evening bath he’d just taken. His movements as he dressed were short and sharp, bereft indignation that he’d long thought dead now burning in his chest anew. The circumstances of his banishment still outraged and grieved him; that there was nothing more he could do now than he could have done back then only made the offense burn all the hotter in his chest.

A very small part of Cove wanted to storm back to the Realm of Water to demand justice, though he knew it would never be granted, especially not after waiting so many years to contest the accusations. But most of him wilted and withered at the very thought, too ashamed at everything that had happened, at all he’d endured. Besides, in truth he’d technically done what he’d been accused of…at least partially…. But he’d hardly been the only guilty party that day despite being the only one to carry the burden of punishment, and besides, it was wrong to call the root of the issue a crime in the first place!

Pausing before cinching his pants closed, Cove pressed his hand low over the left side of his pelvis. His hand shook at the ropey, swirled skin that was an angry shade of reddish pink, the letters that had been torn into his flesh forming of their own accord in his mind. A mark only he knew was there, an eternal accusation that he could never escape from. Lips trembling, he ripped his hand away and cinched his pants closed, covering the hateful mark from all eyes. No, the Realm of Water—glorious land of shining seas, babbling brooks, and gentle rains—was barred to him forever.

In truth, nowhere could every truly be home. None of the six great elemental kingdoms just handed out citizenship easily; even temporary residence in a foreign nation was limited and cause for careful scrutiny. Only his close relationship with King Mavra through his work as the Water’s ambassador to the Dark had opened this door for him when he’d suddenly found everything taken from him in one catastrophic night.

It was why banishment was one of the rarest forms of punishment ever extended in any of the six elemental kingdoms; even execution was considered a kinder punishment. Cove snorted to himself as he laced up his boots. That was the only slight bit of satisfaction that came from his outcome. He knew that banishment hadn’t been the…intended outcome. At least his continued existence might cause a bit of anxiety to a certain someone that his death would not have garnered. Cove didn’t know if that small sense of satisfaction was worth the dismal options and future that awaited him. Sometimes he really did wish that death had been his sentence instead.

Besides the Realm of Water, the other five nations were the Kingdom of Light, the Realm of Darkness, the Kingdom of Fire, the Realm of Wind, and the Kingdom of Earth. Historically, none would readily permit a foreigner into their fold long-term. Each land ruled over a specific element; each and every citizen was bound to it and could wield it, though there were differences in ability just as with any other skill. But they all had affinity for their home element and none for the other elements, especially the element directly opposed to theirs.

Those severe differences in affinity made other countries mistrustful of foreigners, if not downright hostile. So when he’d been forced out of the Water, Cove’s options had been paltry. The Fire was an obvious no, given that their elements were diametrically opposed; he’d surely never thrive there, even if they would trust someone of the Water amongst them.

The Earth had a reputation of aggression and regressed traditions, making them potentially more dangerous; additionally, they disliked the Water for having peace treaties with the Wind, their most mistrusted neighbor.

The Wind was reasonably friendly with the Water but well known for their propriety, so it they knew the cause for his banishment, they may not have allowed Cove to stay long. They might not even have allowed him in at all, because he certainly wasn’t worth risking damage to their trade agreements with the Water.

The Kingdom of Light was closely aligned with the Fire, and at the time of Cove’s departure, the kingdom was also rumored to be suffering political friction between the ruling family and other powerful families who held significant influence in their society.

So Cove was left with only two choices: the dull and featureless gray Void between realms where nothing grew or thrived, constantly at risk of bandits who roamed the area looking to prey on trade caravans, or the Realm of Darkness. So in reality, only one choice, because Cove wasn’t foolish enough to believe he could survive the Void.

It was his hard work as Ambassador for the Realm of Darkness, the Water’s closest ally with the exception of the Wind, that had saved him. The Kingdom of Light had applied pressure to the other countries for decades to break ties with the Realm of Darkness due to their longtime hatred of the weaker nation, but Cove had advocated hard for their ally. He recognized the unfair bias for what it was, and he was also well aware of the petty history of conflict between the two nations, which the Light had either forgotten or chosen to ignore. Cove’s efforts had been rewarded, and his country had consistently maintained good terms with the Dark. Similarly, the efforts of his peer who held ambassadorship for the Light had kept that relationship on good terms as well despite their continued trade with the Dark.

With desperate hope choking him, Cove had fled to the Realm of Darkness, luck finally deigning to shine upon him by allowing him to make the great distance without incident despite his fresh injury and having no supplies beyond the horse he rode upon. When intercepted by the Dark’s border patrol, he’d made his plea to speak to Prince Mavra, who’d been his primary point of contact, as well as his father, King Ghadra, and he’d begged them for political asylum. Graciously, they’d granted it, Mavra going so far as to call the Realm of Darkness his new home, a warm, gentle kindness in the wake of so much cold betrayal and cruelty that had shattered Cove into tears.

Even still, Cove’s options had been severely limited. As a political dignitary, he’d had little combat training, so joining the Dark’s military wasn’t a choice, even if the other soldiers would have trusted him enough at their backs. He had political savvy but could not represent the Dark, both because he wasn’t a citizen and because they couldn’t risk his maligned character tarnishing their own fragile reputation. And any position out amongst the people would be met with suspicion and potentially even hostility for being different, even with the beloved crown prince’s endorsement.

So in the end, he was a glorified, extended guest of Prince Mavra—now King Mavra, as his father had retired the crown upon his son’s marriage—doing what he could to help occasionally with behind-the-scenes advice or as a personal guard around the palace. At the least, much to Cove’s relief and gratitude, Mavra was very kind and welcoming, as were some of his closest friends like Kadron and Revon.

Mavra had even tried to pursue a relationship with Cove that had…turned out very poorly…though blessedly Mavra had felt nothing but compassion for Cove and still treated him with grace, allowing him to stay despite the initial awkwardness. Cove valued and appreciated Mavra’s friendship and kindness, but he couldn’t help but feel sad for his own seemingly hopeless future even as he was happy for his friend’s newfound joy and hope that blossomed from his marriage to and love for Luka, a citizen of the Kingdom of Light, especially given how groundbreaking their relationship was.

Though trade and positive foreign relations was necessary for each and every kingdom to sustain itself, comingling beyond what was necessary to maintain good international relationships was generally discouraged. Small dalliances, of course, occurred from time to time, but they were kept extremely discrete and were only permissible at low social levels. Such a flagrant disregard for social niceties at a high-class level were simply unheard of; hell, the only reason Mavra could even have entertained a relationship with Cove back when they had tried it was purely because, having been banished, Cove was no longer tied to the other country and thus unable to give the impression of a formal alliance or combining of two kingdoms.

But from what Cove had heard in passing news, the recent marriage alliance between the Dark and the Light had severely startled the other four kingdoms, and they’d all had varying responses. Rumor had it that there were even now fledging discussion being held for a marriage alliance between the Earth and Wind; shocking if true, given that their deep-rooted disdain for one another was almost as tangible and long-lived as what had been between the Light and the Dark, what still was, in truth. Mavra and Luka had their work cut out for them smoothing out that new, delicate merging. It was a task Cove both did and didn’t envy. It would be hard, but at least it was something. And it was at least with a lover and confidant at one’s side.

With a frustrated shake of his head, Cove tried to throw off his melancholy. He couldn’t bear to keep sitting in his rooms alone that night, not with morose feelings cluttering his thoughts and keeping him trapped in the past. Instead, he went looking for Luka and Mavra, figuring maybe he could visit with them for a little bit before they all turned in for the evening. With any luck, maybe they would have a task for him to do the following day; anything to end the oppressive monotony.

A short while later, Cove found Mavra and Luka in the throne room as expected, slipping in through a seldom-used side door. He entered just as the two, alone but for a couple of servants discretely standing at the primary entrance, exchanged sweet kisses with one another. Cove’s heart clenched at the sight.

The two young men had met just a couple of months earlier when, in a desperate bid to save his country from ruin, Mavra had traveled to the Light to appeal for an alliance. What had followed was a harried race to prevent a war between the Light and the Dark, with Luka, Royal Advisor to the King of Light, as Mavra’s primary ally, and love had blossomed between them both through their endeavors. Though their time with each other hadn’t been long, they’d already married, solidifying a political alliance as much as an alliance of love, binding their two kingdoms together in a new union.

Cove was happy for them, he really was, but he couldn’t help the twinge of sadness that curled in his gut every time he saw them together. He’d thought he’d had something like that once—a misguided belief that had hurt him deeply and cost him dearly in the end. His past filled him with guilt and hesitation and, above all, fear, but he still sometimes found himself longing to attempt to find it for himself once more. But it would be a fool’s errand. Even if he could put his fear aside, no one would want someone like him.

Forcing a smile to his face that he hoped wasn’t too strained, Cove crossed the room to approached his two friends, bowing low once he was at the appropriate distance. “King Mavra, King Luka,” he said with genuine warmth, “how are you both this evening?”

Luka gave him a small smile. “Doing well, Cove. Thank you.”

Mavra squinted at him. “How are you?” he asked suspiciously. “Are you feeling okay?”

Cove froze. Of course Mavra could see through his melancholy given how many years they’d known one another now. “I’m fine,” he made himself say. “Just…something I ate has disagreed with me a little.” He swallowed, suddenly exhausted and wishing that he hadn’t left his room after all. “I just thought I’d see if either of you had anything you needed me to take care of for you tomorrow.”

Mavra opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted as the large entrance doors swung open to allow the herald to enter the room. “Pardon my intrusion, sires,” she said, “but two guests have just arrived to speak with you.”

Mavra raised an eyebrow. “This late in the day?” He exchanged a look with Luka, who shrugged minutely. “Very well, send them in.”

“Yes, sir,” the herald said. “But…if I may have a word?” she asked hesitantly, only approaching when Mavra granted her permission. She spoke with him quietly, and Mavra’s mouth tightened into a firm line. “Did he now?” he muttered. “I’ll allow them, but send them separately. Him second.”

“Yes, sir.” The herald bowed deeply.

Cove sighed. He’d just have to try talking with them another day. “I’ll leave you two to your business,” he said quietly with a deferential nod of his head to the two leaders, preparing to step back through the side door once more, but the herald stopped him with a raised hand.

“Actually, it’s better if you stay, Cove,” the herald said as she turned to retrieve the visitors. “One of the men is here specifically for you.”

Cove couldn’t stop his mouth from falling open, his heart immediately plummeting into his stomach before jumping into overdrive. Stricken, he turned quickly, locking eyes with an equally stunned Mavra. A guest seeking Cove could only be from the Realm of Water. What could they possibly want with him now?

Mavra gave him a small, firm nod. His eyes said that, no matter what, he would defend Cove as best he could, and it eased the fear in Cove’s heart minutely. Returning his attention to the herald, Mavra spoke with the regal tenor of a King. “Send in that guest first.”

~~~

Instinctively, Cove moved to stand closer to Mavra and Luka as they waited for the first visitor to be led in, an unconscious desire for protection and support. Mavra’s face was still marred by a small frown, but Luka’s was calmer. He smiled reassuringly at Cove.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Luka said kindly. “And regardless, you always have my and Mavra’s support.”

Cove just nodded, not trusting himself to speak through his anxiety, unable to keep his eyes from darting over toward the entrance. Still, he was grateful for the encouraging words. His breath caught in his chest as the doors opened again and a messenger from the Realm of Water entered.

Cove was rattled by the sight of someone else from his home country. It had been so many long years since he’d last seen anyone from the Water, someone who shared the physical features he saw in the mirror every day—light blonde hair with cool undertones, blue eyes, and peachy skin—clad in soft and deep blues like every water magic wielder. He glanced down at his own blue garments, faded and worn with age, and his own flesh, waxen and pale from so long spent in unending darkness and a dearth of magic-laden water.

Shame curled in Cove’s gut; he hardly looked like a son of the Water anymore, and but for the mistake of his own misguided trust, he still would. Even as he trembled where he stood, though, he forced himself to keep his eyes up and his shoulders back. He’d been forcibly cowed by the Water before; he wouldn’t allow it to happen again now, not here in his refuge in the company of his friends.

The messenger looked just as nervous, if not more so, than Cove felt. His eyes darted back and forth between the three men standing before him. Once he stood close enough to them, he bowed formally. “Thank you, your highnesses,” he said, addressing Mavra and Luka, “for receiving me, especially at such a late hour. I apologize for the rudeness, but I encountered trouble along the way from bandits, and I was afraid to remain outside of a point of safety for any longer.” He ducked his head deferentially.

“It’s not a problem,” Mavra replied courteously. “You are welcome to stay as our guest for as many days as needed to recover for your return trip. I’ll also send out a unit to look into these bandits.” He nodded at a nearby servant who returned his nod; she would take care of passing along the message to his second-in-command, Kadron, who would take the necessary steps.

Luka cast an appraising gaze at the messenger and spoke for the first time. “It looks as though you are uninjured. How did you escape from the bandits to make it safely here?” It wasn’t exactly accusatory, but it was borderline. Cove knew as well as Luka and Mavra that, fresh out of the political dissent between their countries and within the Light, opposing forces could begin probing for an advantage. They had to proceed with caution at every moment, looking for any hint of danger.

The messenger nodded. “The other young man waiting to see you,” he said with a gesture at the door behind him, “happened along when they first set upon me. He rescued me from them and then offered to escort me the rest of the way.”

Luka and Mavra exchanged a look but said nothing further on the matter. “So what message is it that you bring to us?” Mavra asked. “I gather from my herald that it is a missive for my friend Cove,” he said, intentionally applying emphasis to make a point, “who is here as a political refuge under my protection?” He hadn’t raised his voice once, but his words, and meaning, carried powerfully across the otherwise silent room.

The messenger darted his gaze over to Cove and then back, nervously licking his lips. “Yes, sir,” he confirmed, raising a hand toward his coat hesitantly. At a nod from Mavra, the messenger reached into his jacket and pulled out a sealed letter, extending it toward Cove but coming no closer.

With a small sigh, Cove stepped forward and took the note, trying to ignore how the messenger wouldn’t even look at him. He wondered how much the man knew about his banishment from their country, how much anyone knew. Had it been kept reasonably confidential, or had everyone been informed? Or had it been “officially” confidential but spread like wildfire along the rumor mill?

“What does the message say, Cove?” Mavra asked, knocking Cove out of his reverie.

Nausea turned Cove’s stomach. He would have rather taken his letter back to his room to read in privacy, all things considered. But given that anything revolving around him could easily affect Mavra and Luka as well as their kingdoms, their desire to know the contents was valid. Besides, considering the protection they’d provided him, what even could he refuse them?

The messenger was led away by another servant to be taken to a guest room while Cove broke the seal on the letter and began reading it. His eyes widened as he took in the message, and his stomach swooped again. He looked up at Mavra and Luka, painfully aware that his face hid nothing of the turmoil already storming through him. “It’s a summons to return to the Water,” he whispered.

Mavra raised an eyebrow. “Permanently? Have they cleared your name?”

Luka looked curiously between the two of them, but asked no questions, for which Cove was grateful. Mavra was the only person who knew everything. Cove had been forced to be honest when he appealed for asylum, but seeing his distress, King Ghadra had permitted him to tell only Mavra, deferring to his son’s judgment. In return for his honesty, in addition to taking him in, Mavra had sworn to never reveal to anyone else the reason for his banishment, and he had stayed true to that word. Even after marriage, he had left Cove’s shameful history forever in the past where it belonged.

Cove shook his head in answer to Mavra’s question. “No. It says…it says that my mother is dying,” he paused as his voice broke, “a-and she has requested to see me before…before she passes….” He trailed off, staring at the floor as his hands shook and his eyes blurred with tears.

Luka reached out and rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Cove,” he said quietly.

Cove nodded, trying to compose himself. His mother’s health had always been weak as he’d grown up, but she was still so young, barely into her fifties! He’d never expected it to take a turn for the worst so soon, and guilt crept unbidden into his heart. What if it was his fault? What if the stress of his dishonor and banishment had taken a toll on her? Could his shoulders bear anymore blame?

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he continued. “My younger sister apparently holds a moderately high position in the government now, and she has appealed for my temporary return for the sake of my mother.” He glanced at the note again, which crumbled slightly from the force of his grip. He tried to relax his hand. “I’m permitted in the country for up to one week.”

Mavra closed the distance between them and took Cove by the arm, leading him a few steps away from Luka for quiet counsel. “Do you want to go back?” he asked softly. “A letter such as this is an invitation, not an order. You don’t have to go back if you don’t want to.”

Tempestuous emotions battered Cove’s heart. What did he want to do? Part of him was elated at the chance to see his family again. After all, he hadn’t been permitted to say goodbye before he’d been cast out. But at the same time, how would they receive him? What if they were ashamed or disappointed in him? What if they were disgusted by him? What if they were afraid of him? Could he take seeing the mother who’d nurtured him through childhood and his little sister who’d always looked up to him having such a vastly revised opinion of him?

Even if their welcome was warmer than that, was he really prepared to see his family and homeland again, knowing he could only have it for one short week before it was snatched away again? Maybe it be better to just stay away and protect his own heart…. But could he really deny his own mother her dying wish? Was he really so selfish?

Cove looked up at Mavra, sure that his face showed how conflicted his heart felt. “I don’t know,” he finally rasped. “But I don’t know if I can deny my mother.” His lips shook lightly.

Mavra’s eyes were sympathetic. Having lost his own mother at a young age, he was keenly familiar with the pain. “I understand wanting to see her. And your sister too.”

Cove nodded miserably. His sister was five years his junior and had always eagerly trailed in his footsteps: from when she was tiny and hung onto his shirttail so she wouldn’t fall, to when she was bigger and wanted to play with him and his friends, to when she was preparing to graduate school and choose her career path. She was just beginning her political career, eager to learn under his tutelage, when he’d been cast out. He would dearly love to see the young woman she had become. And he hoped fervently that his own missteps and misplaced trust hadn’t ruined her chances for a successful and fulfilling career.

Mavra leaned closer, lowering his voice further. “Are you concerned about possibly running into Lir while you’re there?” he asked.

Cove’s gut clenched at the name; he hadn’t heard it uttered in years. That specific fear had been lingering at the edges of his perception the moment he’d read the letter, but he’d been holding it at bay until Mavra had spoken life into it.

“Of course I am,”  Cove whispered in reply, staring at Mavra’s chest when he found he couldn’t look him in the eye. “But…” he formed a fist with his hand, “…he’s already taken just about everything from me. I…I can’t allow the threat of him to influence my decision. I won’t.” He clung to those words, trying to bolster the trembling conviction in his heart. He didn’t want to allow Lir any more impact upon his life, but the idea of seeing him again, of talking to him again, was devastating.

Mavra squeezed his upper arm. “That’s good, Cove. You did nothing wrong. He did. It’s unfortunate that you had to pay the price,” he said firmly, “but you are not the same person you were all those years ago,” he added with an appraising look. “You’re stronger, and more confident. If you have to see him again, you’ll be okay,” he said with a decisive nod.

Cove wished he felt the same confidence, but hearing his friend’s faith in him bolstered his heart. He took a deep breath, held it a moment, and then let it out in a rush. “Well,” he sighed, looking once more at the note in his hand, “I suppose I shouldn’t delay. I don’t want to be too late,” he whispered. “I’ll leave in the morning.”

Mavra moved to stand beside Luka once more. “Good luck to you, my friend,” he said. “You always have a place here with us when your visit is over.” After a soft smile at Cove, Mavra turned to address his herald once more. “You may allow the next visitor to enter,” he instructed.

~~~

Just as Cove turned to leave, still distracted by his letter, the herald announced the second visitor, the young man who had saved the Water messenger and accompanied him to the Realm of Darkness. Cove paused his retreat to get a glimpse of the new arrival, and he was surprised to see that he was a citizen of the Kingdom of Fire. Cove barely had time to finish recognizing the young man’s homeland, though, before his unique appearance captivated his attention, rendering him frozen and speechless.

The visitor strolled casually into the throne room. He looked to be a few years Cove’s junior, and his appearance was shocking, yet striking. He was tall, easily a head taller than Cove. His warmly bronze skin burned in high contrast compared with the cool paleness of the people of the Dark. His hair was shaved to almost nothing on both sides of his head with a soft, long, feathery stripe of the dark red hair common in the Kingdom of Fire that stretched down along the center of his head. His hair was so soft it seemed to defy gravity, other than the bangs that cascaded down his forehead and brushed across his red-tinted eyes. Both ears had piercings, as did one eyebrow and his nose. For clothes, he was wearing low-slung pants, boots, and a sleeveless button-down shirt unfastened near his graceful neck. High on one bare arm was a vicious scar that looked like someone had repeatedly hacked away at the flesh with a knife.

Unbidden, long-learned prejudices against people of the Fire that Cove had been fed his whole life charged to the forefront of his mind—the Fire were loud, uncouth, brazen, licentious, aggressive, hotheaded, dangerous, hateful, etc. Resolutely, he pushed those assumptions aside. Even before being thrown out of his own home, Cove had always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt rather than applying stereotypes, something he’d had to do often for his ambassadorship when defending the people of the Dark. Ever since his unfortunate plight and all the aspersions cast against himself, Cove had been even more firm about avoiding broad labels and quick judgments. If he had been hurt so terribly by such things, then naturally others could suffer the same or even worse.

Cove continued to stare shamelessly at the young man as he approached, determined to see him as an individual rather than as a small piece of his home country. Despite his wild, rough look, the smile that he flashed everyone in the room met his eyes. This is a kind person, Cove determined.

Judging from the slight frowns on Mavra’s and Luka’s faces, though, they had not reached the same impression. Cove continued to linger, his letter temporarily forgotten and held loosely in his hand, curious about what business such a man had in the Realm of Darkness and curious how Mavra and Luka would receive him.

“Good evening,” Mavra began. “And your name is?”

“Iggy, sir,” the young man replied, bowing respectfully.

“What brings us a visitor from the Fire?” Mavra asked, nodding in acknowledgment of the new guest.

Iggy casually brushed the bangs from his eyes and said, “Nothing specific. I’ve just been doing a bit of wandering and happened upon that emissary from the Water under attack by bandits. I helped him out and agreed to make sure he made it here to deliver his message in one piece.”

Iggy shrugged casually, and Cove studied the movement. Despite the genuine nature of his smile, the relaxed body language almost seemed…performative.

“Figured since I was here,” Iggy continued, “I may as well meet the princes of the newly aligned Light and Dark, or king in your case,” he added with a deferential nod to Mavra. He scrutinized the pair, cocking his head to the side. “You’ve been the biggest gossip in all the nations lately.”

“Mmmm,” Mavra hummed noncommittally. “And have you been traveling around the other countries participating in this gossip?” he asked sharply.

Despite Mavra’s harsh tone, Iggy managed an easy smile. “No, sir, I’m not much for gossip. But we can’t help what we hear. That’s just what I heard in the Fire before I left. Yours is the first country I’ve visited since departing,” he added, bobbing lightly on the balls of his feet.

“And what it is that has you out traveling?”

Cove tilted his head as he listed to Mavra’s…not quite interrogation of the younger man. He thought he saw something flash in Iggy’s eyes, but it was gone before Cove could make it out, replaced with yet another easy grin and a shrug of his shoulders. “A bit of a sojourn, you could say,” Iggy answered vaguely.

Mavra narrowed his eyes and took in the long daggers still sheathed to each of the young man’s thighs. “I see you refused to relinquish your weapons. We’re not in the habit of allowing guests into our hall with them.” His fierce countenance would have intimidated most, but Iggy didn’t flinch.

“Yes, well, I tend to find that I can’t trust being weaponless around those who won’t trust me with mine. Besides,” he added with an arrogant smirk, “given our elemental magic, we’re all armed at all times, are we not?” He waggled his fingers cheekily.

Cove raised his eyebrows at that statement. It could have been interpreted as a veiled threat, but again, it didn’t really seem to match the young man’s demeanor. His attitude still seemed almost like a mask, as if he were feigning more confidence than he felt. It was his eyes that gave him away; there was no aggression in them.

Mavra frowned at Iggy and didn’t reply.

Luka, on the other hand, took a step forward and broke his silence. “What’s your name?”

The young man flashed another smile. “I already told you, it’s Iggy.”

Luka raised an eyebrow impatiently. “Your full name,” he said.

Iggy looked pained, but brushed it off with a huff of air. “You’re really going to make me say it? Fine, my full first name is Ignatius,” he said, drawing the name out irreverently. He gestured lazily at himself. “I know it doesn’t fit, but…I guess you could say my parents had high hopes for me.”

Unimpressed that the young man had, again, purposely dodged providing a surname, Luka tilted his head thoughtfully. “You look familiar to me.”

Iggy’s composure definitely faltered slightly this time, Cove was sure.

Luka nodded as though he’d confirmed something. “Are you related to a man named Fuego Infernatus?” he asked, crossing his arms. “I believe he had a son named Ignatius.”

Iggy’s demeanor began to crumple. “Yes, he’s my father,” he admitted quietly, all attempts at charm and bravado completely abandoned.

Mavra looked questioningly at Luka, who elaborated. “Fuego is the leader of an organized crime family in the Kingdom of Fire. Very corrupt and very dangerous; they hold a significant stranglehold on much of the Fire’s inner workings, and they regularly extort, blackmail, torture, and murder anyone they deem in their way,” he added, narrowing his eyes at Iggy. “The Light was warned many years ago to keep an eye out for him and his men because they trade stolen goods and aren’t to be trusted. The warning missive also included sketches of Fuego and his lieutenants, who are his children.” Luka gestured toward Iggy.

Cove’s eyes widened in shock. Even with Iggy’s rough appearance, Cove would never have guessed that Iggy was one of a family of vicious criminals. Though, he mused, one could hardly judge by appearance alone. Much of the world feared the people of the Dark, but they had welcomed Cove when he’d desperately needed a home, with no quid pro quo. Mavra and his father were kind rulers who cared about the people living in their country; they weren’t dark, gloomy monsters looking to hurt the world.

Mavra absorbed Luka’s words and returned his attention to Iggy. “Are you bringing trouble here?” he asked sternly.

Despite his obvious discomfort, Iggy straightened his shoulders and looked Mavra in the eye. “No, sir. I’m not associated with my family anymore.”

Cove could see the conflict within Mavra, skilled in reading him after years of intimate friendship. Mavra always strove to find the right path, but unfortunately, sometimes the right path wasn’t clear, and other times, it wasn’t easy to follow.

“You say that,” Mavra said slowly after a moment, “but you weren’t forthright from the beginning about your identity, which concerns me. Luka and I have only recently averted war between our countries and a civil war within the Light; we have neither the time nor the energy nor the patience to deal with any games or drama, or worse, threat. For the sake of our people, I must demand that you leave immediately.”

Iggy’s face betrayed unhappy surprise. “But….” He trailed off with a small sigh, pausing to collect his composure. He straightened his posture once more. “Your majesty, it’s quite late, and I’ve been traveling for many days now. Can’t I at least rest for a bit before I leave?”

Mavra exchanged a long look with Luka and then shook his head, somewhat reluctantly. “I’m sorry, but we just haven’t the resources to keep an eye on you for any length of time. You will leave now, and you will be escorted forcefully to the borders of our land if need be.”

Iggy’s shoulders dropped in defeat, but Cove thought he saw more than just disappointment in his face. Sadness? Longing? Resignation? Unexpectedly, watching Iggy turn dejectedly to leave as ordered, his head hanging, tugged powerfully at Cove’s heartstrings, and he spoke without fully thinking.

“Prince Mavra, I will be leaving the country tomorrow morning. Iggy does appear very tired, and he would fare better in his travels if well rested. You can leave him under my supervision, and I’ll ensure that he leaves with me in the morning.” His own words rang in his ears, and he gulped in light panic. What was he doing? A glance over at Iggy, who stared openly at him in surprise, sent a blush flaming across his cheeks.

Mavra also looked shocked, and he closed the distance between himself and Cove. Using his body, he blocked Cove from Iggy’s view, and he lowered his voice so that no one could overhear him. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with that, Cove?” His gaze roved searchingly across Cove’s face, his unspoken questions clear. He knew Cove’s history; he didn’t need to voice any of them aloud.

In truth, Cove was not sure at all, not now that he’d taken a moment to think about what he’d just said. He wasn’t frightened of Iggy because of the country he came from or who his family was, but there was still fear because Iggy was….

Cove clutched tightly at the letter in his hand, even more stressed. But it was too late to back out, and though his stomach squirmed at the thought of being alone with this stranger, his gut instinct was that Iggy was trustworthy. “I’ll be fine,” he murmured back, trying to give Mavra a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me.”

Mavra exhaled long and slow. “I’m your friend, Cove. I’ll always worry about you,” he whispered.

Cove couldn’t respond, not with the sudden lump blocking his throat, and then the moment passed.

After exchanging a final look with Luka, Mavra pivoted on his heel to once again address Iggy, who still stood frozen to the spot, watching them all wide-eyed. “Very well. Because of Cove’s generosity, you may stay one night,” he said, holding up his index finger, “but you will leave with him in the morning, and you will not be permitted to return to the Dark or to travel to the Light for the foreseeable future.”

Iggy nodded stiffly, turning to watch Cove instead as the two royals left the room together. Iggy visibly attempted to adopt his casual behavior from before. “So, I’m bunking with you tonight, eh?” he asked, flashing a big grin. But for the strain around his eyes, one might not even know that only moments before, he’d been upset.

Cove nodded, his stomach flip-flopping confusingly as Iggy approached him. Clearing his throat, he side-stepped away and gestured to another door that led into the interior of the palace, away from the front door and foyer. “Follow me.”