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Chapter 3: Chapter Three

It appears, during your sabbatical, your senses have dulled.” 

Micah scoffed as he blocked the overhead strike. “And yet, you still can’t drop me. I see your own reflexes have slowed during my absence. Let us hope it does not have to do with age.”

He pivoted and dragged his foot back, easily blocking the man’s relentless attacks.

“Age? I’m in my prime, boy.” Sachiel delivered a rather vicious head assault that Micah dodged. “I simply found myself without a worthy opponent. And out of practice.”

He slammed his staff across Micah’s knees and then whirled around to thrust the butt of the staff into Micah’s tailbone. Kicking the younger man’s legs out from under him, Sachiel inhaled his victory, entirely out of breath from the duel.

Micah slowly rose from the ground, acknowledging his loss with a stiff bow.

Sachiel watched Micah readjust his uniform, his expression clouding over with skepticism. “You have yet to show me that orgasmic side you demonstrated at the festival’s duel.” He repositioned his hair over his shoulder with a careful swipe of his hand. “Which leads me to believe you only push yourself when you feel threatened.”

Orgasmic.

Micah tried to withhold a snort—a very unbecoming gesture if Calder had anything to say about it—yet it slipped out anyway.

“When my adrenaline is high, I seem to do better, yes.”

“Do I not arouse your adrenaline, Prince Ezra?” Sachiel inquired with far too much implication. If his tone did not give away his less than unadulterated sentiments, his hooded eyes surely spoke volumes. “Perhaps it is time for Uncle Josiah to take over your training, hmm? However, I do wonder how much training you will actually accomplish alone together.”

Micah offered the man a look of indifference.

“You don’t deny it,” Sachiel observed, smirking.

“What is there to deny? I want to learn how to fight with a level head,” Micah said. “If Josiah were to take over my lessons, I’d lose my composure far too often.”

“Admitting a weakness?”

“Admitting a truth.”

Sachiel touched his lips with his fingers, as if to prevent a smile. “I was told, by Lord Josiah, to inform him when you reached a plateau in your training.”

“I’ll reach a plateau when I can get you on the floor each time.”

The council member did not appear convinced. He made his way off the padded floor and toward his boots.

“Your Unda form is impressive. Not quite as flawless as your Igni form, though that is to be expected. You’ve spent years training under Idris.” Sachiel looked pointedly at Micah upon mention of Idris before lowering himself on the bench. “You are more of an Unda warrior. It comes natural to you. If you can truly and successfully execute each form in combat, as you did during the festival, you will be unstoppable.”

Micah heard what Sachiel was saying, yet he did not appreciate the thought of being in a rut. “I take it we’re finished for the day?”  

“Alas, I am needed at the palace.”

Feeling unsatisfied with the short training session, Micah remained standing on the mat, restlessly itching for a spar partner. With his back turned toward Sachiel, he lazily twirled the weapon, gazing forlornly across the training arena.

“Were you the one to tell Calder about me?”

Though he faced away from Sachiel, he was aware of the man’s sharp focus upon his blasé inquiry.

“No.” A pause. “Yes and no. Calder is a very smart man. He saw you using your left hand faultlessly during the duel. He drew the necessary deductions and inquired after the members of Keegan Flint’s team. That’s when he discovered a certain biracial captain with unmatched swordsmanship abilities. The academy keeps records of all the cadets.”

“And he’s been after you for more information.”

“Naturally.”

“I am surprised he tolerated you keeping my identity secret for so long.” Micah glanced slyly at Sachiel from over his shoulder. “You knew since last term began.”

Sachiel, having finished lacing his boots, stood from the bench. “My loyalty is to the crown,” the man informed. “I have never specified a particular monarch. Calder knows I was playing favorites with you. He has no qualms over my clandestineness.”

“So long as it doesn’t happen again, I’m sure.”

The blond-haired man remained silent as he observed Micah.

Lowering his staff to his side, Micah turned around to face the man fully. He did not recognize that look. Whatever it was, it appeared rather subdued for Sachiel.

“What is it?”

“As the whispers of your presence grow louder, so do the sentiments of the parties receiving said information.” Sachiel frowned deeply. “It is offensive to hear some of the things they say about your presence at the capital.”

“Oh?” Micah inquired, intrigued.

He walked towards the end of the padded floor and stopped in front of Sachiel. He could only imagine the offensive insults that spewed from the mouths of others.

“You mean to tell me they won’t all grovel at my feet?” He quirked a sarcastic brow. “You may consider that indecent, Sachiel, but I would gladly welcome a challenge.”

“It may be a larger challenge than you anticipate.”

“I did not anticipate anything,” Micah countered darkly. “This was not my choice.”

Sachiel smiled unkindly. “You are better than that.” At Micah’s blank expression, Sachiel closed the distance between them. He touched Micah’s chin, making certain he had the younger man’s attention. “Do not use the self-pitying angle. Ever.”

“I did not—”

“You are too good to protest the unfairness of your connection to the crown. Yes, you had no choice, but it is the life you were given. Many individuals would kill for your position, no? So take it and shoulder it with pride.”  

Micah had no response. He hadn’t intended for his actions or words to come across as self-pitying, though Sachiel would never steer him wrong by pointing out his flaws. Many people salivated at the thought of the crown, yes, but Micah wasn’t one of them, and his birthright demanded his submission to the throne. 

“Your enemies will pounce readily on your defeatist attitude. Do not give them the satisfaction.” Sachiel tapped his chin smartly before turning away.

“Is there someone you are talking about in particular?” Micah asked his back. “A certain noble who is already permitted to wear his hair in braids and cloak himself in royal purple? Yet, as long as I live, his fingers will never touch that crown.”

Sachiel stopped short at the mention of Ladon. “Ladon will no longer be acknowledged as the future heir or the prince unless something happens to you.

The man turned and looked at Micah from over his shoulder.

“After sixteen years believing he would be crowned the royal prince and take his father’s place, it is an extremely large adjustment for him to accept his disposability. Do not automatically presume he is an enemy of yours, Ezra.”

“You are displeased,” Micah observed, stiffening.

He hadn’t thought he’d done anything particularly damning today. Evidently, he did enough to warrant Sachiel’s immediate displeasure.

Was it because of his remark about Ladon?

“I am not displeased with you.” Sachiel faced Micah, his expression remaining uncharacteristically serious. “I am worried about you. I want you to stop treating this as if it were a game. Your father and uncle may prefer to play on the knife’s edge, but you do not have the same luxury as they do. Many people do not appreciate you, Ezra, simply because you are biracial. Simply because you do represent change.”

It was somewhat laughable that Sachiel, of all people, cautioned him about treating things seriously. 

“I’m also not going to take it too seriously, Sachiel. It is not in my nature.”

“It’s also not in your nature to trust easily,” he observed quietly. “The one you trusted the most recently passed away in a questionable accident last term.”

Micah’s stomach tightened at the mention of Keegan.

“Nonetheless,” the man pressed onward. “When you feel as if you’re surrounded by enemies, know you have an ally in me. I may be a bit unconventional in my show of loyalty, but I truly have my interests invested in you.” He turned to leave before stopping abruptly. “Moreover, I will have to inform Lord Josiah of your progress. Be aware things may change in terms of your training.”

Micah watched the man exit, once again feeling the ghostly hands on his shoulders.

He closed his eyes.

“If there is one thing I learned by coming to the capital, Micah, it’s that this is a very dark world. I want you to know that there’s at least one person who is always looking out for your best interests.”

Opening his eyes, he gazed at the empty arena, suddenly feeling very small and alone.

“Keegan.” He tested the name on his tongue, a name that had once felt so familiar, now foreign from the lack of use. He could have used Keegan’s presence right about now. 

“I never did thank you…”

* * * *

It turned out Idris was partially correct about daemons.

For not being an active practitioner in sorcery, he certainly had impressive general knowledge about his supposed enemy, daemon-Josiah.

For over half the day, Micah threw himself in his new books. He didn’t feel quite so defiant after Josiah gave him his blessing to learn demonology. Conversely, he couldn’t help but notice the unnerving shift of atmosphere when he delved into the information.

The books themselves were poetic cesspools of debauched descriptions and explicit drawings. Oftentimes, Micah found his eyes glazed over as he consumed the material.

He was a skeptic.

A skeptic of gods, daemons, ghosts, and anything in between. Judging by the insinuations inside these texts, there was a great deal of ‘anything in between’. There were creatures mentioned Micah was not familiar with, nor aware people actually believed in.

Vampires? Trolls? Fairies? Mermaids?

It was utterly ludicrous and nonsensical. Each time Micah glossed over a mention of another mystical creature, his skepticism grew further as did his doubt. Was he wasting his time by studying daemons and exorcism? Was this all fable?

Did Keegan truly die from something that did not exist?

If daemons did not exist, the Noir Users had no reason to be there that night. They had no reason to drag Micah and Keegan into their vengeance against Josiah. If Josiah nearly destroyed the entire Magi population, they should have gone about their vengeance another way.

Micah had nothing to do with what had happened, and Keegan hadn’t…

He’d just been lure. An innocent bystander that even Master Idris argued against his unnecessary death.  

Despite his skepticism over the subject of daemons, he had continued reading. At least, he figured, the more he read, the more he could understand his enemies—the Noir Users. Fortunately, the mention of other creatures was not a prevalent topic in the reading, serving little to no reminders of his cynicism.

Whether it be fable or fiction, the subject of daemons was rather enthralling.

As Idris mentioned, gods created daemons for the sole purpose of protecting and shepherding mortals. Between the three texts, however, there were disparities of how daemons came into existence.

Two texts argued the gods created daemons for forced servitude and menial tasks. The other text argued that the daemons were once celebrated mortals honored with great powers after their deaths. No matter their origins, daemons were tasked with guiding mortals through the extent of their lifetime.

An invisible guardian, of sorts.

Until the daemons fell.

Fell.

Such a subjective term, Micah mused later that afternoon as he walked down the corridor and towards his team’s quarters.

The texts did not go into detail of why the daemons fell, but they did stress the level of corruption the daemons had possessed after the fall. When daemons did not work behind the scenes, they possessed hosts to corrupt humanity.

That was as far as Micah got before realizing it was near lunchtime.

By now, his team would be at the academy.

Securing his school bag around his shoulder, Micah pushed open the door to their quarters, narrowing his eyes at the sight before him.

His teammates all froze upon his arrival.

The silence was deafening as he walked inside and casually discarded his bag at the foot of his bed. His left eyebrow twitched and he did nothing to hide his irritation. “Yes?” he inquired, sensing their stares.

“Your Highness, Your Majesty, Your Grace, My Prince!” Viktor greeted zealously as he fell to his knees. He bowed his head, but not before Micah caught sight of his smirk. “It is a very humbling and awe-inspiring opportunity to work under your decree.”  

“Viktor.” Micah sighed.

They all watched him with wide, incredulous eyes as they gauged his reaction. Kai was the exception as he continued to unpack a few articles of clothing and set aside his books. Judging from his petulant frown and distant eyes, the other man appeared rather withdrawn from the situation.

Micah figured it had something to do with his father.

“To know, I’ve been trying to seduce the royal prince…”

“Seduce?” Micah repeated dryly, turning back to Viktor with unrestrained humor. “Is that what you’d call it?”

At his inquiry, the atmosphere seemed to lighten. They all appeared to relax and their gazes turned less cautious and more disbelieving. Stepping away from his bed, he nodded. He understood their feelings on the subject, though he wouldn’t apologize. He hadn’t trusted any of them with his parentage.

Not even Keegan.

“I’m sure you’re upset. All of you.”

His attention landed on Aiden, who lingered uncertainly behind Viktor. The boy’s eyes were comically wide as he observed Micah, clearly having just heard the news.

It made sense, after all.

The news of the prince’s whereabouts started within the palace walls. It would take a few weeks, a few months, for news to reach the outer regions. Considering Aiden went home immediately after term, to Region 10, he would have just missed the gossip. It had been Micah’s intention to tell everyone about his parentage after term break.

He hadn’t anticipated Calder releasing his identity or the noble’s loose lips.

It was silly to overlook such a possibility.  

He should have expected it.

“Why do you think we would be upset?” Talia asked quietly. “Surprised and speechless, yes, but not upset. I’m sure there is a lot you can’t tell us. I think most of us are adults and can understand that things aren’t always as simple as we may perceive them to be.”

Cain nodded supportively next to her.

“Besides, you technically didn’t lie to us.” Viktor climbed back to his feet. “You were upfront about your mixed heritage and half-brother, just not… the names of your parents. Or… half-brother. But Varuna, Mic—Prince? Ezra! It took me weeks to come down from this revelation! You have no idea how giddy I was! I made sure everyone in my family knew that I knew Prince Ezra and slept in the same room!”

“Please, just call me Micah.”

“But—”

“Your ice Element suddenly makes sense. All of it does,” Cain muttered, cutting Viktor off. “It makes me wonder if other two, separate Elementals would conceive a similar child.”

“And your immunity. We saw the flames ghost across you as if you were not there during our first mission.” Talia tilted her head. “Is that the same with water Elements? Earth? Wind?”

Micah slammed the lid of his trunk closed and faced the team. “It is the same against water Elementals. Whatever I inherited from my parents, it was a direct result of them being a fire and water Elemental. I don’t anticipate I’d have the same immunity against earth and wind.”

“Did Keegan know?” Aiden suddenly asked. “Is that why he was killed?”

The room grew insufferably silent.

Kai turned around and pinned Aiden with a blank expression, though his eyes burned with aversion. “Why would you ask that?”

“Keegan knew,” Micah intervened before the situation escalated. “But that wasn’t what killed him.” He exhaled bitterly. “I told you before the term ended that Keegan put his trust in a man who was teaching him how to wield the sword. It turned out that Idris had connections to the Noir Users. Keegan was in the wrong place at the wrong time in their efforts to attack Lord Josiah.”  

He didn’t tell them about daemons or the rune, but he figured the information he did divulge was more than enough.

“You were there, though,” Aiden pressed. “You were gone that night.”

The rest of the team seemed distraught over Aiden’s sheer audacity, though they did not protest against the questioning. How could they? Their curiosity was painfully palpable. Micah subjected them long enough to silence and ambiguity.

It was time to quench their thirst.

“I watched him die,” Micah confessed as he approached Aiden. “I watched the only man I have ever trusted get stabbed through the chest. The last person who deserved such an undignified end died in front of me and I could do nothing.”

A blink.

He saw Keegan’s body collapse awkwardly to the floor.

Exhaling, Micah remembered.

“Kid,” Keegan whispered with pained affection.

Stopping in front of Aiden, he cocked his head to the side. “Is that what you’re asking me, Aiden?” he inquired softly. “If it is, it’s true.”

Aiden spluttered and stepped back, his features blanching. “I wasn’t.” He appeared hesitant as he studied Micah’s cold features, pausing over the hard, glacial eyes. “I know you and Keegan were close,” the boy said reluctantly. “I’m not saying you were directly responsible for his death, but I—we—just needed to know.”

“I don’t fault any of you for needing to ‘just know’.” Micah looked over his shoulder, subconsciously aware of Aiden shifting away. “I should have told you sooner.”

“You should have,” Talia agreed. “It’s clearly eating you up.”

“As it should,” he agreed.

“Micah,” she admonished. “If you could have prevented his death, you would have. We know you’re not one to stand by idly and watch.”

Talia’s reassurances had an opposite effect of what she had likely intended. He merely shook his head, refusing to say more only to hear more reassurances. He was partially responsible for Keegan’s death. Even partial responsibility felt like a crushing weight of guilt.

“I have something for you.” Cain shifted over to his trunk and rummaged through his things. “I gave the others theirs.”

The large, brute-like Unda man straightened and cradled an object close to his chest as if it were precious. He approached Micah and held out his palms. A long, white braid lay cupped in his hands, a symbol of purity.

Loss.

“Though black is the standard color of mourning, we already have a black braid to represent Wayde. I thought Keegan should be signified some other way. His own way.”

Micah stared at the offering, angry that such a silly piece of thread could symbolize and embody Keegan’s worth. He tempered his immediate reaction, however, and glanced at his team’s swords. Only Kai had his sword strapped across his back. Two braids of black and white hung around the hilt of his sword, entwining together.

Two lives lost and remembered with honor. They all had lost someone. Keegan was just as much their friend as his.

Micah turned back and accepted the braid. “Did you make this yourself?” He looked pointedly at Cain’s large hands. Though he tried, he could not envision Cain sitting down, hunching over thread as he braided mourning ribbons. 

“I did.”

Micah closed his fingers over the white ribbon and looked the man in the eye. “Hopefully you’ll never need to make another one again.”

A soft, agreeing smile settled across the man’s lips.

“He doesn’t plan to,” Viktor interjected, his high-spirited voice easily dispelling the somberness in the room. “In fact, he told me he was working on a tunic for you. He hopes you can wear it during your coronation. Something to match your eyes, he said.”

Cain turned and looked down at Viktor, his expression never once altering from the impassive stare. “I don’t knit tunics.” 

Micah looked between Viktor and Cain, exasperated at Viktor’s awkward fumbling to lighten the mood.

“But you braid,” Viktor tried again. “Will you braid Micah’s hair now that he’s royalty?”

Cain turned back to Micah, his attention falling on his short, wavy locks.

There would never be any braids in Micah’s hair.

Ever.

“Once it grows, of course.” Viktor appraised a dour-looking Kai. “Although, now that Kai followed our trend, an Edlen of all peopleI really think it's due time for a haircut, Cain. Aiden.” The boy ran a hand through his disorderly short hair. “It will catch on quickly now that the prince sports such a fashionable, trendy style. Although, I’m pretty sure I had this haircut first. Just saying.”

Aiden ran a self-conscious hand through his own hair, considering the length.

“What do you reckon they will do with Micah to display his royalty status?” Viktor continued prattling. The boy clearly sensed the melancholy in the air, aimed to obliviate it, and replace it with… something else. “Dress him in all purple? Put amethysts in his hair?”

“It’s time for lunch,” Micah interrupted.

“Thank Varuna,” Kai muttered as he bypassed Viktor. “I forgot how utterly exhausting he was to be around.”

Viktor forcibly injected himself between Micah and Kai. The other three fell at their heels as they made their way to the dining hall. There were a few students mulling around the residence corridors, hurrying to discard their personal belongings in their team’s quarters before heading to lunch.

Most eyes did not linger long on Micah. Some lingered far longer than appropriate. The closer they approached the dining room, the more the halls populated. The whispers spread and the eyes lingered. As Sachiel had already warned Micah, there were obvious expressions of disdain and contempt.

Micah made sure to meet those particular stares with his own. He was hardly deterred, hardly bothered.

He was far more amused.

Oddly enough, the stares that unnerved him the most were the ones filled with undeserving worshipping and awe. They watched his every step with single-minded intensity and intrigue. He thought back to Josiah’s proclamation that Micah would have turned out entitled if he’d grown up as Ezra, the royal heir. Though he wanted to find fault in the man’s decision to let Ember take him away, he couldn’t.

It was painfully true. Excruciatingly obvious.

The people around Ezra would have molded him into something unrecognizable, a reversed image of the man he was today.

Micah walked down the corridor with his silent team. As he endured the attention, he realized that race did not play a role in how they regarded him. Strangely enough, even some Igni cadets appeared unhappy with his presence while some Unda cadets seemed entrapped.

Just up ahead, a figure pried himself away from a group of nobles. “It’s surprising to see King Calder has permitted you to fly free.”

The three bars on his collar indicated him a third-year cadet, yet what gave away his identity was the platinum-blond braid over his shoulder. Sapphire eyes regarded Micah, raking down to his feet and refocusing on his face.

Ezra.”

Micah imagined he’d encounter Ladon eventually, but he hadn’t anticipated their first interaction to be so cliché. Curious onlookers filled the hallways, anticipated gossipers loitered, and a group of allies backed each contender.

“Ladon,” Micah responded with equal detachment.

Calder’s son was almost a year younger than Micah, but he was broader in the shoulders like their father. While they were the same height, Micah was far lither, a trait he inherited from his Igni blood. 

“I remember you as the first-year cadet who humiliated Kai Edlen during the trials.” Ladon’s attention flickered briefly towards Kai. “A virtual unknown scholarship student who turned out to be the royal heir. Imagine that.”

“I’m glad I could make an impression,” Micah said dryly.

Ladon looked back to Micah. “You made more of an impression during the festival when you fought for Keegan Flint.” He blinked. “So sorry for your loss, by the way.” He sounded anything but.

“Greatly appreciated.”

Micah’s attention fell on the group of nobles at Ladon’s back, trying to memorize their faces. He paused on Nereus Edlen, Kai’s hot-tempered and vile cousin. The young man stared back at Micah, his expression dark, concentrated. In fact, all the nobles behind Ladon analyzed Micah as if studying the habits of their next prey. Instead of open hostility, they practiced quiet and patient intimidation.

Something inside Micah roused at the challenge.

He smiled.

“I would have thought Calder would keep you at the palace,” Ladon said, uninterested in the game Micah was playing with the nobles at his back. “Considering the animosity spreading across the capital at your sudden presence, I assumed your protection was more important than your contentment.”

“Fortunately, the prince has enough people watching his back,” Kai spoke up.

“Oh yes, what a reliable bunch you are,” Landon whispered. He looked at Kai. “Someone who’d betray at the right price.” He looked at Talia. “One who is self-serving?” Cain. “Someone who could not possibly think for himself without his mommy.” Finally, Viktor. “And someone who would stand by you merely for the status.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he has me then,” Aiden declared vehemently.

“In a world dominated by Unda nobles, your assurance means nothing.”

“Yet it means everything to me,” Micah defended quietly. “Your concern over my safety is touching, truly, yet it is not warranted.”

“On the contrary,” Ladon disputed, “while you’re unofficially known as the royal heir, it’s not official until that crown touches your head during a formal coronation announcing the next successor. Until that time, many deem you a mere obstacle in my path to the throne.”

Kai bumped into Micah as he aggressively faced off against Ladon. “That is a threat to royalty!” the man accused hotly. “He has a higher standing than you, and he doesn’t need a formal coronation to prove it. We all know what your mother is.”    

“And yet, I have a higher standing than you,” Ladon countered with calm. “Who are you going to report me to, Edlen? My father? Your father? I am merely stating a fact for Ezra. I know you’d never tell him the cruel truth behind court.”

There was something about Ladon’s tone and expression, Micah surmised as he scrutinized his half-brother. Ladon’s words may have been cruel and particularly harsh, yet Micah could not fathom why he felt as if Ladon were truly trying to warn him. Granted, the bastard prince knew next to nothing about Micah’s team, but he realized Ladon’s warning was truly that.

A warning.

Not a threat. Not means to hurt.

Nonetheless, it did not reign in Kai’s fierce animosity. “No, I’d be upfront with him and tell him the court is decidedly split in half over his presence, not entirely skewered as you’re suggesting,” Kai said. “Next time I hear another threat towards him, I will report it. To the king.”  

Without another word, Kai brushed by Ladon and the other nobles before continuing to the dining hall.

Micah watched him retreat, smiling thinly as he turned back to Ladon. “I very much approve of having that at my back.”

He followed Kai, musing at the man’s fervent tirade.

The other man’s insistence to defend him did not offend Micah. No. He was more inclined to scrutinize Kai’s obvious and tangible anger. As the young man scooped food onto his plate, he did so violently and with a palpable air of disquiet and ire. The rest of the team was silent as they retrieved their food and settled near a secluded table.

As Micah sat with the others, he looked at each member of the team, noting the unease. He supposed he had to say something.

“That won’t be the last confrontation.” He broke the silence. “And it won’t be the cruelest. Because you are a part of my team, you’ll be just as much a target as I am. It’s imperative you recognize what side you want to be on and decide soon.”

“What do you mean?” Aiden asked. “You mean your side or Ladon’s side?”

“The side who receives threats or the side that remains blissfully ignorant and neutral.” Micah watched as Aiden looked down at his plate. “I wouldn’t fault any of you if you decided to keep your nose out of this.”

Kai scoffed. “You’re ridiculous, Egan.”

All eyes turned to the man as he took a rather large, frustrated bite from his meat pie.

“You’re giving them the choice to be cowards. That’s what it comes down to, isn’t it?” Kai raised his eyebrows mockingly. “You are the future king. I don’t care if you haven’t accepted this fact or not, it still doesn’t change its inevitability.”

“Forced loyalty is not true loyalty,” Micah countered. “I would rather them step aside and remain inactive versus feebly standing by my side.”

“Remaining inactive is perilous. It invites unsolicited bribery and temptations.”

“Those bribes and temptations do not stop once someone picks a side,” Micah said. “In fact, I’d say they pose more of a threat if one’s loyalty is forced and reluctantly decided rather than freely given.”

Kai pressed his lips together.

He knew Micah was right.

“Why are you so angry?” Micah inquired. Something about the other man’s resentment set his teeth on edge. “Is it because you reluctantly chose to stand by me? If your decision makes you this bitter, perhaps it wasn’t the best choice.”

Kai’s eyes turned steely and he deliberately set down his fork.

He stood up with a tense slowness. “My loyalty to you was freely given,” he stated quietly. “Despite the several influences trying to persuade me otherwise, I chose you, yet you cannot even appreciate the true extent of my sacrifice because of your lack of confidence and your flippant attitude on the situation.”

Abandoning his lunch, Kai retreated out of the dining hall.

Micah stared after him, the fork in his hand feeling unnaturally heavy.

“He is an Edlen. They are proud and influential aristocrats. They consider their allegiance to be the highest form of flattery. For you to question it, he feels as if it’s an insult.” Surprisingly, it was Cain who spoke up.

“I imagine most of his anger comes from the realization that so many people are treating you with disrespect. He knows you will be declared the official successor, and he finds it insulting that people want to prevent that.” Cain pressed his fork against his potatoes and considered the white, fleshy starch. “Ever since he has chosen to merge our teams together, he’s been ostracized. It’s gotten worse, especially after he disappeared over term.”

So Kai really had accompanied him during break partly out of avoidance. Micah didn’t know the extent of Kai’s struggles. How could he when the other man never spoke of it? It was evident enough in his behavior that things were not right.

He gave Cain his full attention. 

“Then what can be done to remedy his situation?” Micah asked the other man.

Cain looked to Viktor and Talia, both high nobles, both relatively naïve as they shrugged their shoulders to his silent inquiry.

It appeared as if Cain’s family had a higher standing in court, his mother especially if Micah had observed the situation accurately throughout these past several months.

“Well,” Cain started looking hesitantly at Micah.

“Yes?” He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t need to be reserved. I think I can handle it.”

“It may have seemed like a good idea at the time, and it is your nature to defend yourself with sarcasm. Quite often, too.”

“But.”

“But disrespecting Seaton Edlen when you arrived back at the capital just made the situation worse,” Cain admitted. “The easiest way to alleviate Kai’s stress is to make an ally with his father. It works out for both you and Kai.”

Micah exhaled slowly.

Frustrated.

He suddenly comprehended the extent of what Sachiel meant when the man said not to treat this as a game. While it was easy to pretend that he was in this alone with only Calder and Josiah, his actions also affected those around him. For Calder and Josiah, they hardly cared about that fact. But as much as Micah loathed to admit it at times, he’d grown fond of his team.

Very much so.

“Seaton Edlen is a difficult man to get along with, but not nearly as difficult as his brother, Muriel. I—I can help you,” Cain offered. “My mother and father would like to meet you. They usually prefer to get to know someone before backing them.”

Next to Cain, Viktor nodded consciously, looking pointedly at Micah. Judging from the boy’s reaction, Cain’s invitation was something he should accept with honor. It only reinforced Micah’s suspicions that Cain’s family had a high standing amongst nobility. 

“I would be honored to meet their acquaintance.”

Cain set down his fork much like Kai had earlier. “We will all have to sacrifice something by turning our backs on the more outspoken nobles, Micah. I just hope you’re as serious about this as we are.”

And just like that, the boy followed Kai’s earlier steps out the dining hall.

Micah sat, stunned.

Aside from the fact that he’d never heard Cain speak so much in one sitting, he hadn’t considered the boy held so much political savviness with his quiet and passive behavior. The other man’s parting words truly got under his skin, scratching at something Micah could not truly comprehend at this point.

It was undeniably clear that he’d gotten himself into something large.

Far larger than he’d anticipated than just shouldering Calder’s and Josiah’s proximity;

Politics.

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