Page 42 of Nemesis Mine
Maximillian, thankfully, didn’t notice. “The Federation likes things done in a certain way,” he said. “And there’s not much room for creativity. That’s all I mean.”
“Right,” said Cyrus. “Only it sounds like—”
“Can I have a word?”
Balthazar was back. At the sound of his voice, Maximillian withdrew. There was suddenly a lot more space between their bodies than there had been. Cyrus didn’t know whether he was relieved or disappointed.
He did know that Balthazar was a nosy little shit. Cyrus pincered him with a sharp look. How long had he been standing in the doorway, listening?
Balthazar glared right back, and then his eyes shifted to the champion again. “Maximillian,” he said, somewhere between a rebuke and a plea.
Maximillian sighed but stood, rolling his shoulders. He was starting to look tired in the fading dusk light.
“What is it?”
Balthazar didn’t reply. He jerked his chin towards the door. It was presumptive of him, but Maximillian just sighed again and stepped outside, leaving the door cracked open. Cyrus heard his exasperated “What, Bal?” as he went.
Cyrus waited for a handful of seconds, just in case Balthazar was lurking and waiting to catch him in the act. Then he slunk over to listen in.
Balthazar, first, struggling to contain his frustration. “—but this isn’tyou!”
“It is me, and I think you know that.”
“It isn’t what you—”
“It’sworking! Why would we spoil a good thing?”
“Because you gave me your word that you would do it,” Balthazar hissed, terse and agitated. He sounded like he could barely contain the emotions crowding behind his teeth.
Do what? Pull back from the feud, perhaps, when they deemed it had served its purpose? It was going well, nobody could deny that, but there was so much more they could do.
“Yeah, well, that was when I thought it was the best thing to do.” Stubbornness from Maximillian. Cyrus recognised that well enough by now.
“He’s not—”
“He’s notwhat, Bal? What you expected? What the fuck did you expect?”
“Actually, I’d say he’s exactly as we expected,” Balthazar snapped. “Unpredictable, savage, dangerous. He just called an earthquake in Dorre, for Summer’s sake, did you even ask himwhy?”
“Nobody got hurt. And I’m not responsible for everything he does.” Stubborn again. “You just never wanted this in the first place.”
“No, I didn’t, and I think that’s understandable! My feelings have always been perfectly clear.Yours, on the other hand—”
“Don’t.” The single word was abrupt and cold.
Silence from both. Even on the other side of the door Cyrus could feel the prickling tension. He wondered what Maximillian’s face looked like. He had seen Maximillianfilled with noble wrath, the vengeful god, but what did his anger look like directed at someone close to him?
Balthazar spoke again, quietly. Weary. “You know I’m just trying to help you.”
A beat. Then Maximillian deflated with a sigh. “I know. And I don’t mean to—” He broke off. What were the missing words, the ones he couldn’t quite grasp?I don’t mean to push you away?
“I’m not going to be swayed on this,” Maximillian said eventually. His voice was as quiet as Balthazar’s, but there was an edge of steel to it. “You need to stop trying.”
Cyrus returned swiftly to the couch. Only Maximillian reentered, sinking into the space beside him with a quiet groan.
“Think I’ll head back soon,” he said. He and Balthazar were staying at an inn not far from Ranragh. Cyrus could well enough imagine the atmosphere there tonight. “Been a long day.”
Cyrus hummed in acknowledgement. “Balthazar fucked off yet?”
