Torchlight danced softly along the stone walls, its glow wavering with every breath of the flame. The room itself was modest but well-kept. A large bed dominated the space, its linens clean and neatly tucked, though creased now by restless sleep.

  West stirred.

  Pain reached him before memory did. A dull, spreading ache in his abdomen. A tightness around his ribs. His face throbbed in time with his pulse. When he finally opened his swollen eye, the light made him wince, but he did not turn away.

  Tyrus sat slumped in a wooden chair near the bedside, arms crossed, head bowed forward. He was fast asleep.

  West shifted slightly and hissed through his teeth. The movement pulled at the bandages wrapped snugly around his waist. He glanced down, noting how carefully they had been applied. His wrist was also covered to conceal the slave marking that followed him. Surely the work of Master Omni.

  West exhaled slowly, steadying himself.

  “Hey, Tyrus,” he said, keeping his voice low so it would not jar his bruised body.

  No response.

  “Hey, Tyrus,” he tried again, a little louder.

  Still nothing.

  With a careful reach, West took hold of the Red Dragon where it rested against the headboard. Even sheathed, the blade carried weight, solid and reassuring. He planted its tip against the floor and pushed himself upright, using it as both a crutch and a weapon.

  Each step toward Tyrus sent a warning through his core, sharp and insistent, but West ignored it.

  “Hey, Tyrus,” he said more firmly.

  Tyrus stirred. His eyes opened, unfocused, and he squinted toward the sound without lifting his head.

  “What do you want?” he grumbled.

  West studied him for a moment, then smiled faintly. “Where’s Master Omni?”

  “Downstairs,” Tyrus muttered. “Preparing a broth.”

  West nodded, satisfied. “And you? I would think the hut Nadrin lent us would be more comfortable than that chair.”

  He leaned in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. Tyrus straightened just enough to look at him properly, suspicion creasing his brow.

  “Well?” West added.

  Tyrus said nothing, simply watched him, waiting for the angle.

  West’s smile widened. “Is it because…you love me?”

  He lifted one hand and made an exaggerated show of blowing kisses.

  Tyrus did not react. Just then, the door opened.

  Nina stepped inside, carrying two steaming cups. She froze when she saw West mid gesture, lips puckered, fingers still in the air.

  “Oh…” she said softly. “I should have knocked.”

  She turned away at once.

  Tyrus shot up from the chair, moving so quickly he nearly sent West stumbling backward.

  “No!” he said, flustered. “You are fine…”

  Nina hesitated, then turned back, her eyes going immediately to West. She handed each of them a cup.

  “Master West, I’m happy to see you on your feet again.”

  West eased himself back onto the bed, careful and slow, before taking a sip. The warmth spread through him, soothing more than the broth likely deserved.

  “Thank you, Nina,” he said. “I’m happy you’re happy to see me, too.” He gestured lazily with the cup. “Have you met Tyrus?”

  “Yes,” Nina replied, offering Tyrus a polite smile. “We have met. It’s good to see you again.”

  “A pleasure to see you again,” Tyrus said, his voice steadier now.

  The room fell quiet.

  Not the easy kind of silence, but the sort that lingered too long, waiting to see who would move first. West felt it settle like pressure against his ribs. He raised the cup to his lips and took a loud, deliberate slurp.

  The broth burned on the way down. Pain flared through his abdomen, and he winced despite himself.

  Tyrus and Nina both turned toward him.

  “Sorry,” West said, lifting the cup slightly in apology. “So, Tyrus. Care to offer your fine wooden throne to Lady Nina?”

  He nudged Tyrus lightly with the edge of his knee.

  Tyrus straightened, clearing his throat. “Of course.” He stepped aside and gestured to the chair.

  “Oh, that is not necessary,” Nina said at once. Her smile was polite yet practiced. “I should help Lord Omni with the mess downstairs.”

  “Nonsense,” West replied. “Sit. It would be a nice change for Tyrus and me to enjoy the company of such a beautiful young lady.”

  He took another sip of broth, longer this time, his expression carefully neutral despite the strain.

  “Isn’t that right, Tyrus?”

  Tyrus blinked. He looked from West to Nina, then back again. “What…?”

  Nina let out a small, soft laugh. “Thank you, Master West, but I must decline. I did leave Lord Omni with quite the task.”

  She dipped her head slightly, the motion precise and restrained, then turned toward the door. As she passed Tyrus, her steps quickened just a touch.

  The door closed behind her.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  West watched it for a moment before turning back. “You know,” he said, “when I told people you were afraid of girls, I truly thought I was joking.”

  Tyrus shot him a sharp look, but said nothing. After a breath, he returned to the chair and sat, the wood creaking under his weight. His gaze stayed fixed on the door, as if expecting it to open again.

  “Are you going to drink that broth?” West asked.

  Tyrus extended the cup toward him.

  West remained seated on the bed, unmoving.

  “I am injured,” West said mildly. “You are really going to make me lean forward all the way over there for it?”

  Tyrus drew his hand back. The cup was now further from West than before.

  “Really?” West said, raising an eyebrow.

  Tyrus said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on the door.

  When it opened again, he relaxed, just slightly. It was not Nina this time. Master Omni stepped inside, a small cup of broth cradled in one hand. Steam curled faintly upward as he closed the door behind him.

  “West,” Omni said gently. “You are awake. How are you feeling?”

  He moved closer to the bed, his gaze already assessing, measuring.

  “I’ve felt better,” West replied. “But I am alive. Just pain everywhere.”

  He shifted, then leaned carefully toward Tyrus to retrieve the cup that had been so recently withheld.

  “A blessing,” Omni said, nodding once.

  “A blessing indeed,” West replied, lifting the cup in a mock toast.

  The motion pulled at his ribs. He sucked in a sharp breath and pressed a hand to his side.

  Tyrus rose from the chair. “When do we leave Dagavia and continue east?”

  “In three days,” Omni answered without hesitation.

  Tyrus inclined his head. The timing made sense. West needed rest. His own thigh still protested certain movement.

  “Master Omni,” West said, pausing to sip again, “three days feels excessive. We could leave tomorrow morning.”

  “There are matters that must still be addressed here,” Omni replied.

  Both West and Tyrus fell silent, considering what those matters might be.

  “There is the issue of the young Beiru,” Omni continued. His gaze dropped briefly to the floor. “Captain Nadrin has declared him your property now, West.”

  West frowned. He flinched despite the protest of his body, lowering his voice. “Master Omni, there is nothing more we can do for him.”

  Omni looked at him steadily. “You granted the boy a second chance. What meaning does that hold if he is left to rot in a dungeon?”

  “Perhaps it is best to trust Captain Nadrin’s judgment,” West said, his tone firm but respectful.

  “Nadrin intends to surrender Beiru to the Evokians,” Omni replied.

  West hesitated. “Then perhaps he has his reasons.”

  “I agree with West,” Tyrus said. “The Dagavians understand their own borders better than we do.”

  Omni rested his fingers against his chin, thinking. At last, he nodded.

  “Three days,” he said. “I will tend to your injuries as well as Tyrus’s. And if Nadrin will allow it, maybe even Beiru’s. Then we leave. The Dagavians will administer justice as they see fit.”

  He turned his attention back to West. “We extend kindness to strangers and enemies alike, not from weakness, but from duty.”

  He folded his hands together, fingers interlaced.

  West exhaled. He knew better than to argue when Omni spoke like that. He glanced at Tyrus.

  “Three days?”

  Tyrus nodded. “Three days.”

  “Good,” Omni said, taking a sip from his cup. “Now, West. Perhaps you would care to tell us how you won the duel?”

  West smiled faintly. “Not in front of Tyrus. I would hate to ruin the surprise if I need to use it against him someday,” he said half-jokingly.

  He finished the rest of his broth in one careful drink.

  A knock at the door interrupted the moment. Before anyone answered, it opened.

  Captain Nadrin stepped inside, moving slowly, deliberately, and stopped just past the threshold. He did not fully enter the room. Instead, he stood with one shoulder against the frame, filling the space with his presence.

  “Master West. Lord Omni. Tyrus,” he said, offering each a measured nod.

  “Captain,” West replied, lifting a hand from the bed. “How are we doing?”

  Nadrin’s mouth curved into a short, amused smile. “I was about to ask you the same, Master West. It will be good to see you on your feet again.”

  His gaze shifted to Omni. “Lord Omni. A blessing, is it not, to find him still so full of life?”

  “Yes,” Omni said. “A blessing.”

  Nadrin inclined his head, then straightened and turned his attention back to West. He brought his fist to his chest in a brief salute.

  “My men and I wish to show our appreciation for what you did,” he said. “We would be honored to host a feast in your name.”

  “Oh?” West said, interest flickering across his expression.

  “We ride at first light tomorrow,” Nadrin continued. “There have been sightings of wild deer along the northern edge of our lands. Depending on how you are feeling, perhaps you would care to join us.”

  His eyes passed briefly over Tyrus, then returned to Omni, never lingering.

  “All of you are invited.”

  “With all due respect, Captain Nadrin, I am not much of a hunter,” Omni said calmly. “In truth, I was hoping to be granted access to the prisoner, Beiru. His arm still requires treatment.”

  Nadrin studied him for a moment. “If you insist, Lord Omni, I can have one of my men escort you to the dungeon.”

  Then his attention returned to West, his posture easing just a fraction.

  “And what of you?” Nadrin asked. “Care to join us, Master West? We can prepare a horse so you will not need to walk.”

  “We will think on it,” West replied.

  Nadrin nodded once, satisfied. “Very well, I will leave you to rest.”

  He turned, opened the door, and was gone. The latch clicked softly behind him.

  West exhaled and shifted his weight, wincing as he leaned back into the bed. He leaned heavily against the frame before slowly sliding himself onto the mattress.

  “I have a new plan,” he proclaimed.

  Omni and Tyrus both looked to him.

  “If we can convince Nadrin to part with three horses,” West continued, “we cut weeks off our travel east.”

  Omni’s eyes brightened. “That is a brilliant idea, West!”

  He gathered the empty cups. “I will return with more broth.”

  Once Omni had left, West turned to Tyrus.

  “I am joining the hunt tomorrow,” he said. “You stay here. Watch Master Omni.”

  Tyrus frowned. “For what reason?”

  “Beiru,” West replied, lifting the Red Dragon and tapping its sheath lightly against the floor. “Master Omni has a habit of collecting strays. We cannot afford another.”

  “And what exactly am I meant to do about it?” Tyrus asked.

  West shrugged. “If I had an answer, you would not be here.”

  Tyrus snorted quietly. “It is probably for the best. I get the sense Captain Nadrin does not like me.”

  “And Nina?” West asked. “What is going on there?”

  Tyrus looked away. “She is afraid of me.”

  “Yeah, you do that to people,” West said without hesitation. “Do not dwell on it. Maybe smile more or something.”

  Tyrus dismissed it with a wave, unconvinced.

  Omni returned moments later with three fresh cups of broth, steam curling upward. He handed one to each of them.

  “Master Omni,” West said, “I have decided to ride with Nadrin tomorrow. If all goes well, we secure those horses.”

  Omni studied him closely. “You can barely stand on your own. Do you truly believe yourself fit for a hunt?”

  “I will be,” West said. “After one night of rest and a little Juga tea, I'll be good for another round of Beiru. Tyrus will remain here in case you require anything.” West slid himself onto his feet and off the bed, his knees buckled but stayed standing.

  Tyrus straightened. “I will not leave your side.”

  “We can prepare the tea for you tonight, if you truly wish to move forward with your plan” Omni said, taking a slow sip of his broth.

  West leaned back against the pillows, pain settling deep into his bones. Outside, the torchlight shifted, shadows stretching long against the walls.

  For the first time since waking, West wondered whether this choice might cost more than time.

  Tomorrow would test more than his strength. Though he laughed and joked through the ache of his injuries, West was no longer certain his body would endure what lay ahead. Still, they could not linger in Dagavia. Every day spent here risked allowing Omni to form a bond with the wounded Beiru, and some mercies could not be undone.