Legal Theft Project: Wind at Your Back

He handled frenzied leviathans and royal messengers with equal insouciance. The leviathans were easier though. Ashael poured two glasses of pomelo nectar and offered one to his guest. Heverard accepted though he declined the offered chair. Ashael draped his cloak over the arm of his seat and sipped at his drink. “You look carved from ice, Heverard. Whatever does my mother want that has you so stiff?”

Heverard held his fingers very still around the curved bowl of his nectar glass. Ashael looked as untouchable as ever. The golden rays of afternoon sun streamed through the crystalline cabin windows and gilded Ashael’s fair hair. The sea green Duveldre eyes watched Heverard with a cool dismissal that made what Heverard had to say easier.

Kir Ashael, I regret to inform you that your father, Kir Lysander, has gone to join his ancestors.” The cool formality of the Adularrii phrase echoed oddly in the cabin.

Ashael bobbled his goblet. “My father would never…”

“It was not of his will, Ashael.”

Heverard’s words stopped Ashael short. He blinked and took a sip of his nectar before putting it down on the side table. “What do you mean?”

“Your father was murdered. It is currently assumed that a zealous group of humans was behind the assassination.”

Ashael turned to the window and let the sun hide his features. Formal announcement delivered, Heverard took a seat and sipped at his drink. His throat was oddly dry and he sipped again.

Ashael did not turn his head when he spoke. “So I must move with all speed back to Khallais.”

“The Kourii would appreciate haste in this matter.”

Ashael could not keep the bitterness from his voice. “So it was more than my mother’s conceit.”

“Cohesion is important in such uncertain cir-”

“I was not asking you, Heverard.”

Heverard pressed his lips together and wrapped his fingers around his goblet a bit more firmly.

“Is there aught else?”

“From Yvain and Illien, no.” Heverard stood. “For myself, I sincerely hope you do not let them down.”

Ashael laughed. He spun from the window to face his mother’s seneschal. “Let them down? Goodness, no. I plan to devastate them.” He grinned. “I’ll come back to Khallais, but not for the city, and definitely not for her. I’m going to find the offal that ended my father and pay them back with interest.”

Heverard retreated into his ice. “Well then.”

Ashael waved a hand. “Do head on back to the embassy, Heverard. I would not want to clip your ears.”

Heverard turned on his heel and walked out, back stiffer than a frozen mast.

The door slammed shut as Ashael clenched his fists and let winds race around the cabin. Books, trinkets, and his remaining nectar crashed to the floor. He was going home.


That darned Babbling Buzzard babbled a bit with this first line. Go enjoy the crazy on her blog.


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