Page 83 of The Concubine King
Kiaro’s silky voice eased into the silence like a fog.“I never intended for this to happen.”
Ethyr glanced up, surprised.In the moonlight, Kiaro’s features looked as marble as the railing he leaned on.“What do you mean?”
The question seemed to trouble the god.He frowned at the banister, eyes tracing the carved embellishments along the sides.He didn’t reply for a long few seconds.“I thought the only way you’d believe was if you heard for yourself… but you misunderstood.”
“Heard what for myself?”Ethyr’s confusion dawned to racing realization.“Were you the one in my room that night?You led me to Yorith’s study?”Kiaro didn’t reply.“Was Yorith in on it too?”
Kiaro shook his head.“Your judgment of Yorith was biased from the beginning.But I should have trusted you enough to make your own decisions.”
Ethyr couldn’t help his scoff.“If you did, you’d be the only one.”
“Yorith knew if you were allowed to make your own, they’d be easily manipulated.”
Ethyr bit his lips together to stop the indignant response on his tongue, staring hard at the shadowed garden below.
“I should have known meddling would only cause more problems,” Kiaro continued softly.
Ethyr’s offense weakened with the quiet agony in Kiaro’s voice.Why did it seem like every time he was with Kiaro, the god was a completely different person?Cold, then warm; mischievous, then melancholic…
“I wish I knew who you really were,” he whispered.
Kiaro’s eyes on him were soft.“Trust me, you don’t.But there’s no point pushing everyone away.Loneliness is worse than humility.”
“What would you know about that?”
Kiaro’s flicker of a sad smile stole Ethyr’s breath.The looming figure of the god vanished, replaced by a magpie perched on the railing.He glanced one last time at Ethyr before spreading his wings and diving off the balcony.
Ethyr slouched, resting his forehead on his arms and closing his eyes.He was no less confused, and he still had no idea who he could trust, if anyone.
Ethyr braced himself before stepping into the study.The empty desk confused him for a moment before he caught sight of Klara sitting in one of the plush seats by the fire.
Klara looked up from reading a letter and set it aside.
“Your Divinity,” she said, before realizing her insult belatedly and hurrying to stand.She dipped her head.“Is something the matter?”
“I assume Poyut told you I’ll be attending council tomorrow.”
“Ah… yes.Of course.”Klara kept her gaze lowered.Ethyr cocked his head, watching her closely.
“Why did you lie?If I could choose the advisor, wouldn’t I have found out eventually?”
“I did not lie, Your Divinity.I’ve never been to a meeting, I’ve only heard second-hand from Y…” She pressed her lips tight together and closed her eyes.It took her a few seconds to continue, voice delicate and wavering.“If I was mistaken about any details, I apologize.”
Ethyr chewed at his lip, glancing around the study.Nothing had been changed or moved at all, looking exactly as Yorith had kept it.The fire was lit to combat the shade and chill of morning, but neither its light nor warmth reached the desk.
“Why not bring the desk closer to the fire?”he suggested.
Klara blinked, either confused or maybe offended that he was offering such advice.“It is too risky to have all those important papers near flame,” she explained.
“Oh.”Had Yorith done the same thing, early in the morning?Settled into a chair by the fire to read letters and documents?Even he must have had moments where he looked serene, mundane.
“Your Divinity,” Klara said hesitantly, pulling Ethyr from his thoughts and mindless staring.“Forgive me, but… what did you come here for?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it.He couldn’t tell Klara the truth: that he didn’t know.He walked slowly into the room, stopping by the spot where Yorith had last lain.He hated that there was nothing there, no disturbance or residue, like nothing at all had happened.
“You don’t seem to hate me,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
