The Changeling

22

The next moment Cetlali became aware she heard a harsh grumbling she didn't understand.

She shot up, tired eyes forcing themselves to alertness until she stared straight ahead. From her perch on her creaking chair, she watched Lovou snort himself awake.

Despite her thrumming heart, she smiled at the sight. Errant hands wiped at his face. Long legs stiffened in a stretch before he popped right up, elbows thumping on his bent knees with a shudder. He looked up as if he didn't expect her to be there. He squinted his eyes into a glare as he turned towards her window with a sense of severe ire. She joined his focused stare and realized the room was edging into a grey light.

Dawn.

Cetlali let out a strenuous yawn, her body aching to be stretched. She groaned a bit as she

reached her arms high above her head. Her back arched until a delightful popping got things back into place. The sensation pulled out an uncontrollable squeal that shook her like a tuning fork. She let herself deflate into the chair with a pleased hum before opening her eyes.

She realized far too late that Lovou's odd stare focused on her.

He startled when he realized her eyes were on him and stood. "I should be going. Make sure Ovar and all his poxy brigands are out of this shit hole. And maybe I'll get a single damned moment of peace."

Cetlali grimaced, feeling a well of rising remorse for causing him so much trouble. She stood after him, shaking out her hair, running her hands through. She walked him to the door, preoccupied with guilt. Once she opened it, he stepped out without a glance back. She wanted to speak of her gratitude before he stormed off. She wanted to thank him for saving her from Ovar, for saving Embla and Bihotz from being attacked, and for sleeping outside her door and keeping her safe. He

shocked her by spinning to face her before her words came out. Towering over her, he stood much closer than he had been, but he remained deadly silent.

"Thank you!" She blurted, staring up at him, feeling lost in his scowl. She wondered why his features had to be so hard when his eyes were so gentle.

"Cetlali, I —," Lovou grimaced as he began, his tone breathless and hesitant. His hands twitched in front of hers, clasping at her lower abdomen, fidgeting as usual.

The sound of footsteps came careening around the corner. Lovou took an abrupt step backwards as Xocthl came into sight. Her feet stuttered and slid to a stop when she saw them there in the open doorway. She frowned and strolled forward, curious. She took in the rumpled form of Cetlali, very much half dressed. Lovou stood rooted three feet away from her like a hundred-year-old tree.

"You come to tell her the news?" Xocthl asked Lovou, narrowed eyes trailing him up and down before she looked at Cetlali again.

Cetlali yawned, but responded before Lovou could, "He's just come to tell me Ovar is riding out of the keep as we speak on an errand for the realm." She smiled at Xocthl, "Are there more good tidings?" Lovou was still stiff standing there, but his gaze traveled to hers with a slight scowl for the effortless lie.

"Whatever..." Xocthl regarded them and eventually rolled her eyes. "The Emperor is dead."

"Eraughn?" Cetlali squeaked in shock.

"No," Xocthl insisted with a sigh, "Emperor Vahaugn."

Cetlali's eyes went wide with shame. She'd forgot about the deteriorating Sovereign. "Oh, no!" She tried to sound adequately beleaguered and not like she had already considered him dead. He'd been unresponsive for weeks.

"Aye..." Xocthl nodded with a restrained a smile at the unsuccessful attempt. "The council is gathering as we speak. Ezren wishes for your presence. Now. Yours too," she pointed at Lovou.