Kyril Leventis.

The dim dungeon lighting couldn't have been further from flattering for the Aeolian man. The last time they'd met, Kain might've been able to describe him as decently handsome. Now, however, age seemed to have settled on him, despite the fact he must not have been older than forty years.

Pocketscars riddled most of his visible face, leaving a clear sign of how close the nightmares had come to finishing the man. Since Nokos, his dark-brown, bordering black locks had been trimmed close to his scalp. Was it to cover for what might've been burnt when the faerie set the purici on fire? Or to hide what he could of the obviously graying hair?

The reason behind the hatred burning his mud-brown eyes was obvious.

Kain was tempted to ask him whose fault those scars truly were. After all, it wasn't him who'd stupidly opened that window.

As all this ran through his mind, Kyril scrutinized Kain in turn. Then, he smirked.

"I had hoped you would make it this far."

He'd been anticipating them?

"As satisfying as it would've been to hear you'd been caught, and executed, there's something to be found in taking care of the issue myself. You made it so easy, too, by staying in such a cheap inn. Did you think you'd go unseen in such a place? How ridiculous. People in the slums are easier to buy."

Confusion held his tongue as Kyril spoke.

The noble spoke as if they were old enemies. Kain hated him, certainly, but it was for reasons that he doubted Kyril would return. After all, if the man had viewed something wrong with hitting his wife, he never would have done it. And, despite everything, he had no way of knowing about the incident with Alithia--the demon was dead. Which meant he had no knowledge of Kain's near death.

So why would he assume they were coming after him? And beyond that, why had he spent so much money on Kain, a nobody? First, the expensive Votanna contract, and now briberies. Was it pride? Vanity?

"The trial will be a formality," Kyril continued. He apparently had no need for Kain's response. "The judge will listen to me, of course. You'll be sentenced to execution for the senseless murder of a Sol native."

Execution. Anger boiled beneath his skin. This wasn't right. None of it--and it was so baffling that Kain couldn't find a leg to stand on. Was it fear for his life? Was Kyril after them because Kain threatened him? Because the purici almost killed him?

Kyril's eyes flicked away from Kain for a moment, seeming to skim over the other cells with thought before returning. "It would be a waste to throw away all your companions, however. I'm sure some value could be found in the women--and there's always a desire for free, skilled labor. Perhaps if you beg me, I'll have their sentences lightened. I could even be persuaded to let my wife visit. I'm sure you'd enjoy that."

Mara? What did she have to do with this?

"Kain--" Melitta began.

"Your knees will do," Kyril interrupted. Smugness oozed from his voice in excess. "Come now. Isn't this what your sort is supposed to do?"

"My sort?" Kain asked.

Kyril snorted, giving a dramatic wave of his hand. "Yes, your sort. The adventuring type that sticks their noses in other peoples' business in the name of honor or whatever. Sacrificing your pride for something as simple as their lives should be easy, shouldn't it?"

If he thought it would actually save them, he would do it in a heartbeat.

However, the greed that reflected in Kyril's eyes, and the way he spoke sparked doubt. Plus, how did he talk as if this were all certain? Was money really all it took to buy off a foreign government? By all rights, Kyril looked, and spoke, Aeolian. He shouldn't have had the power to sway an Eolian judge.

In fact, he shouldn't have been able to convince the guards to let him view prisoners detained in the palace dungeon.

"How do I know you can actually save them?" Kain settled on, mind spinning.

A satisfied smile overtook the man's face. He'd been hoping for that question.

"It's obvious," Kyril bragged. "Everyone in Sol knows I, the Duke of Ephi, have the king's ear. He's desperate to continue Aeolian trade, and I've all rights to negotiate as the ambassador. To please me is to win favor with the king.

"They'll kill you if I want, and they'll pardon who I ask. That's who you've made an enemy of, stupid boy."

It struck Kain, then, what had been so baffling about Kyril's attitude. He spoke as if he were the center of the universe--and in that second, Kain realized Kyril believed it to be true. In the Duke's eyes, he was the protagonist of his own legend. Kain was the villain out to ruin his plans and steal his woman, and Kyril was the hero destined for triumph.

It was so ridiculous, he almost laughed.

Still, that knowledge didn't stop fear from settling along his shoulders. It sunk into his veins, and sent a chill down his spine. Whether or not Kyril was self-centered, it didn't change the end result. At the moment, Kain had no clear method of escape. It was a dungeon meant to handle criminals, after all. It would be crawling with palace guards. Plus, escape meant leaving his sword behind, and making all of them enemies of the state. Official bounties would be posted.

If he could leave the others out of it, that would be the best solution, right?

If they could be released officially, Kain could scheme his own escape. It might not be possible, but in the end, as long as they got out with their lives, he would be willing to accept it. Melitta and the others wouldn't abandon Iliana. If despite every attempt to the contrary, Kain died here, they would follow her.

He drew in a deep breath, and dropped to his knees.

Kyril stared down at him, dim lantern light reflecting across his eyes. Hatred burrowed into Kain's heart like a parasite. Whatever came of this, he wouldn't forget it. If he survived, when everything was over, he would find a way to drag Kyril's actions into the light. And, if he was right, if officials couldn't punish someone with the king's ear, Kain would find his own.

"I--"

A door slammed in the distance, drawing the duke's attention. He held up his hand, stopping Kain's words in their tracks. An armored guard reached them within the minute, and leaned in to whisper something in Kyril's ear. The man frowned, then swore. His attention flicked back to Kain, expression obviously torn, before he spun on a heel.

"Lead the way."

Then, without explanation, Kyril left.

Silence encompassed the dungeon for two seconds, before Isidor started swearing. Kain stayed on his knees, mind swirling. Whatever had just happened, it changed nothing. They either won the favor of the judge, pleaded with Kyril, or escaped. If not...

Execution.

Kain closed his eyes, mind slipping into the past. Artemios had taught him as much as he could of court. He knew the old dances, the names of each noble head in Cieon, and every old law. Nothing current. And, likely, nothing useful in Eol.

"Kain," Melitta said.

Her voice drew him to the present. His body ached too much to justify standing, so he shifted onto his bottom. His arms wrapped around his legs, head resting along the iron bars of his cell. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she said. Murmured agreement from the others followed her words. "If you hadn't attempted to save her, I would have. Or Rhode. Or Dalphie. We would still be here, no matter your actions."

He wasn't certain. If Kain hadn't played the part of the hero, would Kyril have latched onto the concept of them as enemies?

┈♔◦𓇣◦☽◦❤◦☾◦𓇣◦♔┈

Time inched by.

Within fifteen minutes of Kyril's departure, a human doctor visited the dungeon. They bandaged Kain's back as promised, and offered to check the others for injury. Melitta politely refused, and the doctor left. After that, they were alone with their fears.

It felt like decades, but odds were they had only been in the dungeons for a handful of hours when, finally, the sound of approaching footsteps once again echoed through the cells. Much to Kain's surprise, the one who approached was neither Kyril or the captain, but instead a handful of normal guards. They unlocked his cell and ushered him out.

Kain hesitated. "Shouldn't--"

"He just wants you."

He?

Did they mean Kyril?

In that case, perhaps it was better if the others stayed behind. Something told him it would be a poor idea to continually remind Kyril of how interesting Kain's companions were. Especially given Rhode's identity. It was unlikely the duke would recognize her, but with Kain's luck, the unlikely was always probable.

"Good luck."

Melitta's soft voice, and Rhode's murmured agreement, told him they had arrived at the same conclusion. Or, perhaps they simply trusted him to handle whatever was to come. What little he could see of Callias revealed the merman was watching him with a furrowed brow, but when their eyes met, he simply nodded.

Was that trust?

The guards led him from the deep dungeons into unrecognizable halls. Pristine, fancifully decorated stone turned to expensive, wallpapered walls, and dim lantern-light to high-quality, enchanted gems.

"Where are we going?" Kain ventured.

One of the guards spared him a glance. They seemed to weigh their choices, or at least that was his guess as they never bothered to lower their visor. "You've been summoned."

Frustration and worry flashed through Kain in equal measure.

"I understand that," he said, tone carefully even. "By whom? If you don't mind me asking."

The guard sighed. He turned away from the Kain, focusing on one of the other escorts.

"Are we supposed to tell him?" he asked, slipping into Loen, the native language of Eol.

Kain offered a mental thanks to Inna that he understood. The further they traveled, the more and more useful Artemios' lessons seemed to become. The old sailor had prepared Kain for anything, and the more twisted things got, Kain realized that anything was exactly what he had needed.

His heart ached. One day, when this was all over, he would find the answers his mother's letters hinted at. And, if fate allowed, he'd thank the man himself.

"I can't see why not," the other guard replied. "It isn't as if they told us the actual reason."

The first pinched the bridge of his nose. "Right. I'm stupid."

As the man spoke, Kain was escorted through an archway. On the other side lay a hallway of old doors. It ended at the largest, where two guards stood posted outside. Impossibile suspicion twisted into Kain's mind as the first of his escorts finally made up their mind.

"You've been summoned by His Majesty Alekos the Second."

His thoughts stalled.

The king?

What reason did the king have to summon him?

Was it Kyril? The duke had said something about having the king's ear. Kain's heart twisted in his chest as fear took root. What could he have said? What lies would result in Kain summoned to the King's quarters?

They stopped outside, the guards exchanging nodded greetings. Then, without a word of explanation, the door was opened and Kain gestured inside.

Lightheadedness took over as he stepped through the threshold. Despite this, each detail of the room was committed to his memory with concentrated detail.

A large, floor-to-ceiling window dominated the opposing office wall. It cast dying sunlight over the large, dark-oak desk before him. Bookshelves covered each wall, broken only by an old reading chair, and the door settled behind it.

And seated in it was a man of intimidating proportions.

Even sitting, it was obvious Alekos was large. His loose, off-white sleeves couldn't hide the breadth of his taut muscles. Dark, dirty-blond locks hung past his ears in loose, thick waves. They framed his aged face, from which scrutinizing, steel-gray eyes studied Kain.

The collar of his shirt hung un-tied, showing off sun-kissed skin and an old, dark scar that dove beneath the 'v' of his neckline. It was the mark of a man who had seen a fight or two, but not war. The rest of his visible skin was pristine. And from what Kain could see, the hands that held a familiar scabbard were free of worker's calluses.

Alekos was a king who wielded a pen, not a blade.

Except at this moment, he held Kain's and it nearly stopped his heart.

The king smiled.

It was a warm expression. One that spoke of confirmation, and pleasure. Whatever he'd been hoping to see, Kain had shown it in his moment of shock. It reminded him to school his expression into careful detachment. It was too late, he knew, but if he could avoid revealing any more cards, then he would give it a shot.

Kain dipped into a low bow--one expected of a common sell-sword. His eyes focused on the floor as his thick hair framed his face.

"Your Majesty. It's an honor."

"Rise, boy. Your grandfather would have my head if I let you act like that, while I held this."

Kain swallowed and the air stuck in his throat. It held his tongue still with the knowledge that there was no hiding from this man.

Kyril wasn't the reason Kain was pulled from the dungeons. No, that was entirely his own error.

"Welcome, Kain Okeanos. It is indeed an honor to meet the last prince of Cieon." 

A/N: Not a double update this week! I ended up not having the time. (Aka, I pulled an 11 hr shift at work right after getting my 2nd shot, and was too exhausted to do much of anything). 

Hope you enjoyed! Things are definitely heating up.

Kyril has plans, but so do others. Any theories or thoughts? 

I'm debating if we'll continue onto another Kain chapter next, or dip back to Iliana. Either way, I hope you're excited. 

If I manage to get two chapters, you'll get an update next week unlike previously planned since I didn't get a double this week. Otherwise, I'll probably dip back to my previous schedule. It all depends on how much I write. 

<3