The King of Forever (Scarlet and the White Wolf, #4) by Kirby Crow Page B

Liall did not care for. Word that the king would not be dining with him must have reached the servants.
    Dvi served the che in silence. A guard entered the room and signaled to Dvi, who bowed and left to speak with him. He returned in moments.
    “You have a visitor, ser,” he told Scarlet.
    Scarlet sipped the che and wondered if he should send for wine instead. At least he’d be able to sleep. “Who?”
    “I hope you will forgive this intrusion.” Alexyin appeared in the doorway, his hands clasped and his spine stiff.
    “I already know the king isn’t coming,” Scarlet sighed. “He didn’t have to send you.” His leg ached and he made a conscious effort not to rub it. His arm had healed quickly, but it had only been bruises and scrapes there. The gash on his leg was deep and it had hurt more than he let Liall know.
    Alexyin glanced at the sparse meal on the table. “The king sends his apologies. He is delayed.”  
    His voice was neutral, as always. Scarlet waved his hand at the dishes. “Are you hungry? It’s a shame to waste it.” He turned over a cup and poured green che into the porcelain. The steam had the scent of roses. “Liall likes this kind. A southern blend, he calls it. We had some when we were with the Kasiri. It’s still my favorite.” He pushed the cup forward and looked at Alexyin expectantly.
    Alexyin sat down like he was lowering himself into a mud puddle. He put one finger on the cup but did not drink. “Thank you, ser.”
    Scarlet held back a sigh . I’ve heard warmer thanks from farmers I gouged for the price of a whetstone.
    “Cheers.” He toasted Alexyin and sipped.
    Alexyin inclined his head in response but still did not drink.
    “You don’t like me much, do you?”
    That was too blunt for Alexyin. “If I’ve given offense, I hope the king’s t’aishka will forgive me,” he said formally.
    “Oh, stop it,” Scarlet said in disgust. “You don’t like me. You never have. I didn’t know why at first, and now it doesn’t matter. I don’t care if you like me or not. I do care that you think I don’t grieve for Cestimir.” Scarlet put a hand on his chest and spoke earnestly. He might not get another chance to talk to Alexyin like this, man-to-man. “Please believe me, Alexyin. I tried to get away, to run for help, but Melev was there and he prevented me. I...” He gestured helplessly. “I wasn’t strong enough to save Cestimir. By all the gods, I swear to you that I wanted to.”
    “But you were strong enough to destroy Melev, whom not even our greatest swordsman could have bested,” Alexyin said harshly. “Tell me; how is it that your magic destroyed a creature that not ten of our warriors could bring down, but you could not save the future king of Rshan? Or was it because you wanted Nazheradei to be king?”
    Scarlet recoiled. He suddenly realized that Alexyin believed him to be just as sly and evil as Vladei, that he suspected him of helping Liall to the throne over Cestimir’s dead body. The thought made him cold, and he recalled it was one of Liall’s oldest and most trusted friends that he was alone with. A true friend will risk much to protect those they are loyal to, even murder.
    I’m beginning to think like one of them.
    Scarlet stared at Alexyin, wondering how to reach him. “I am not Rshani,” he said quietly. “I’m not one of you. I will never be one of you.”
    Alexyin’s glare wavered. “I don’t take your meaning.” He half-rose from his chair. “I should go, ser.” He looked at Dvi, who shot an uncertain look at Scarlet.
    “Sit down,” Scarlet commanded. When he obeyed, Scarlet took a deep breath and leaned forward.
    “You keep expecting me to act like one of you, like a Rshani would, and you don’t know me. You don’t know my kind at all.” He held up his left hand with the missing finger, turning it so Alexyin could see the difference clearly.
    “Isn’t this enough to prove I’m not like you? That I’m not like Vladei or