25 Good Cop

“You almost died today, and I decided to treat you to something unusual,” he shrugs indifferently, throwing me into a bit of disappointment. “And I still can’t figure out where you’re from. Your aura is nothing like the locals’, and I’ve seen plenty—trust me.” The watch-mage looks at me unexpectedly seriously. “Maybe you’ll confess on your own?”

Ah, so this turns out to be the ‘good cop’ routine, where I’m supposed to spill everything during a casual interrogation.

“And what do you do here with people who aren’t locals?” I counter with a question of my own, meeting the man’s clear gaze.

“Nothing, if they don’t pose a threat,” Kays knits his brows sternly. “Do you pose a threat?”

“To whom?” I snort. “I almost got flattened by the gorts on the road, and you’re asking if I’m dangerous. If I had any powers or skills at all, I would’ve dealt with those giants—at least in self-defense.” I look away. It’s unpleasant to be suspected of something.

“There’s some truth to your words. But sometimes women can be cunning,” a crooked smirk lights up the guard’s face, and we start heading back toward our camp. He’s not insisting on an immediate confession, but I can feel it—it's only a matter of time before we return to this topic.

We walk in silence, and since there's a perfect moment to ask what worries me most, I take it.

“Kays… tell me… what’s going to happen to me? And be honest.” My words sound so pitiful. In my head, they were much more confident.

“You know, the king isn’t nearly as bad as some people paint him,” the guy begins thoughtfully. “He’s not exactly handsome, of course. No point lying about that. But maybe behind that outer shell hides a pretty decent—and lonely—man?”

“You know him?”

“Of course,” the mage snorts. “We’re very… close.”

“You… what… you’re one of those?!” My eyes widen at the man—he even stops walking.

“Prepedollie,” he growls quietly, flashing his eyes at me. “We are not sodomites, if that’s what you mean. We just know each other well. Friends, if you prefer. I can’t say more—not for your sake.”

Suddenly his gaze becomes… sad and distant.

“What does he do with the girls? Why does no one ever hear from them afterward?” I don’t back down, poking further at this nerve.

“He doesn’t do anything to them… mostly,” the man starts getting irritated. “And even then—it’s all mutual. They know what they’re agreeing to.”

“Then why doesn’t anyone see them afterwards?” I push further.

I see Kays actually getting angry. He steps right up to me and glares down at me.

“I’ll tell you a HUGE secret—they’re fine. Living comfortably. They just can’t reveal it, not even to their families. But if you tell anyone what I just said, I’ll have to put a silence spell on you.”

Well, that’s some revelation. I just stand there blinking at the brunette.

“No needa,” I whisper, and the mage smirks with satisfaction.

We’re almost at the tents when Kays suddenly turns on his heel and walks off to his own, muttering something under his breath about how I’m already twisting ropes out of him and we haven’t even reached the palace yet.

This relaxed and easy version of Kays? I actually liked him. I’d never have guessed he was capable of normal conversation.

Still, I did get some information. Turns out Alaya’s daughter, Sariya, might actually be alive. I’ll need to dig into that later.

With these thoughts, I enter our tent, where the girls are already inside. Vasmiya is lying under a blanket, trying to fall asleep, while Nufira sits on her cot with her arms crossed, glaring at me like she wants to burn a hole right through me.

“You sure took your time bathing!” the blonde throws a complaint at me.

“Why, were you spying?” I lift a brow. Looks like an interesting conversation is brewing—possibly even violence.

“Pff!” she snorts. “Kays cast a spell so nobody could come closer than fifty meters to you two!" —well well, that’s new. “Curious why the secrecy? What could you possibly have been doing all this time? Something to hide?”

“Nufira, do you have a problem with that?” I plant myself firmly, brows down, arms crossed to match. “You should worry more about the fact that you’re being taken to the king—and how deep you’ll have to bow to survive. Other people’s issues shouldn’t concern you.”

With a loud huff, the girl lies down and pulls the blanket over herself, dramatically turning away.

Ugh, I really don’t like her. I might actually have a problem—like being smothered with a pillow in my sleep. Hopefully our court mage has accounted for such scenarios and I’ll live to see tomorrow.