Chương 79: Kenna and Bartos

Kenna stared down at the thick envelope in her hand with the simple address, "To my goddess of Everwinter." In a practiced gesture, she smiled at the clearly frazzled Seneschal.

"Absolutely. I'll take it to him now." She bowed gratefully.

"Thank the gods—with all these new refugees coming in, I—" Indeed. Most of them weren't refugees, either. Not anymore. Word had spread of the Great Athereon hailing from Everwinter. Some were purposely coming here to live with the divinely chosen of the Hunt. And some because of that gods damned bounty. Kenna raised a hand and gave her a sympathetic smile.

"I understand. I was just on the way to his office. I'll deliver it now." Her eyes fluttered with gratitude. She curtsied and strode away quickly to return to figuring out homes, jobs, and rations for all of the new additions. It only took a few minutes before she stood in front of the door waiting to knock. Her hands shook. This was it. She'd managed to avoid him all morning. To avoid the impending conversation where she learned her fate. She swallowed. Hesitating.

Taking a few extra minutes, she composed herself, shoving her feelings deep into her heart. Kenna opened the door, smiling warmly at him as he glanced up from what he had been writing when she came in.

"Good afternoon, my lord." He raised a wry eyebrow as she closed the door behind her. It seemed luck was on her side as not even Lowvyn was here, likely off helping to deal with the sudden population explosion. He went back to writing, relaxing a little at the sight of her.

"One minute, almost done," he murmured. She stepped closer, her limbs wooden with tension she was fighting not to show. She reached the desk just as he finished with a sigh, leaning back to rub his eyes. Still exhausted, clearly. She slid the envelope onto the table silently. He stared at it, a heaviness to him that almost made Kenna feel like she had disappeared. Letting a bit of that weight press down on her tone, she murmured, "You should rest." A single, despondent laugh tumbled from his lips.

He cleared his throat, looking away from her.

"About last night, I…" She could see it written into every line of his body. He shifted a little, straightening the lines of his desk in a nervous tick he'd had for ages.

"I just… it happens, occasionally, with packmates. Nothing needs to change." He exhaled sharply before saying, "I wouldn't want you to limit yourself because of it." Laughter fell out of her own lips, even though she did have to force it.

"Yeah. Limit myself." He cleared his throat again.

"I… it was nice," he said, and the way his brows twitched in a subtle wince.

"If anything, that would limit me. At least pretend." He snorted, laughing as he dropped his face into his hands and finally relaxed.

"Gods. I'm sorry, Kens. It was lovely and wonderful, I just—" Crossing her arms and popping out a hip, she dryly drawled, "Just don't do this very often?" He actually winced this time.

"Fifty years, Bartos. Fifty years I've been watching your back. I think I'm more than a little bit aware." He groaned.

"Gods. Don't remind me. At least I don't have to worry about your intentions with my Family."

"Aw, is the poor prince of the Regali sad because he's so very desirable and wanted? Gosh, what awful traits to have." He chuckled, rubbing his eyes.

"I know. I know." Dropping his head down, he sighed and said, "I'm fucking this, aren't I?" She snorted and took a seat across from him.

"No. We're still friends and packmates first, no matter what. I've got your back." If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. He lifted his eyes to smile at her. Such complication in their depths she couldn't unravel, but the gratitude that made his eyes glisten briefly soon overwhelmed them all. Hiding them from her view.

"Thanks, Kens."

"No problem, Lumin. Now. How should we get the letter to our little Athi?" He chuckled.

"Athi?"

"Cute, isn't it? Short for Athereon. That name is so… formal sounding."

"Because it's old," he chuckled out.

"Hm… how old do you think she is? We were estimating that she left the Capital twenty years ago. Do we know anything else?" She kept her eyes and expression perfectly poised, but her heart broke with a combination of joy and sorrow at the way his eyes seemed light up a bit. His brows furrowed and he lifted his head, pursing his lips in thought.

"The lady scholar began to patent new inventions roughly fifty years ago, but Annabelle believes she had an increase in acclaim before that of several years. Before that? Nothing. In fact, there are no records of any greenlings anywhere." That drew Kenna's intrigue away from her self-flagellation.

"Oh?" He nodded.

"Not in one census. We have no idea how many greenlings there are in the Capital. I've checked the records here, and there are records of greenlings in the surrounding villages, but there is nothing in any of the palace records that even mentions what greenlings are. Nulls, yes. Extensive research, in fact, trying to trace if it's a gene passed down from one to another. Greenskins? Plenty. But greenling pixies? It's like they've never existed." Kenna stared at him.

"Well we know that's just not true." He sighed.

"I know."

"… she probably knows, huh?" He nodded.

"Stubborn doesn't begin to cover it. I doubt she will ever tell us." The emotion in his voice, the sheer conviction and acceptance in it, was a blunt knife directly to her chest. Here she was, quietly dying of a broken heart while the man she loved was giving up before he even tried, leaving her helpless. Softly, Kenna offered, "We thought she would never accept us, either." His lip twitched.

"This is true." He leaned back and stretched, rubbing his hand over his face.

"It matters not. Annabelle has found a different representative to ask." He chuckled.

"I have a feeling she's smitten." Kenna's eyebrow twitched. Annabelle did have a tendency to fall hard and fast. Anchors like her tended to do that. Anchors were one way bond groups could form. Sometimes groups were a bunch of jumbled pieces that somehow worked cohesively, where some were lovers and some were not, a tangled web that stretched across the group and had more in common with a line than a circle.

Other times, one fey in particular seemed to collect the attention of a group of fey who all formed a bond with their center, their anchor. While they could and often did also bond with each other, all of the relationships stemmed from and centered around a single individual. Kenna, personally, couldn't imagine it. One bond was more than enough for her. Even if the one she wanted was… Shoving down her own feelings, she pushed him a bit more.

"Do you miss her?" He didn't respond right away. Instead, he sat back in his chair, studying her before his eyes dropped down to the desk, unfocused in thought.

"Sometimes. I worry more than anything." Kenna knew what he meant. Somehow the feisty little greenling had wormed her way into her heart as well, and after the last foray into another territory, she almost insisted on following her this time. Only that would leave him vulnerable. It was bad enough he was barely taking the time to care for his own body—in his weakened, distracted state, he was at too much risk. That would change very quickly though, if little Athi got hurt again.

And gods forbid Feldan found out about it— She sighed.

"Maybe you should write to her, too. You know." She nodded to the thick letter.

"When you send that." He blinked a few times, confused by the very concept.

"I have nothing to report to her." He rubbed his beard.

"I suppose I could sum up Tobias's report—""You're overthinking it." He was cute when he was stupid.

"You like asking her about the feybeasts. If she were here and you could have a casual conversation, what would you ask?" He still seemed unsure of the purpose of such a gesture. Kenna sat on his desk, leaning forward and flicking him on the forehead with an exasperated smile.

"Stop overthinking it. Don't ask her for a report, just ask if she's well and if she has any favorite new beasts she's encountered." He considered this.

"I suppose… I confess I'm curious about the beasts in other territories. What solutions she's found." He frowned in thought.

"… I'll do it and send it to Annabelle to forward along with the next set of books for her from Grand Central Library." He nodded to the thick letter on the desktop.

"And that."

"Goddess bless the transference stone." His lip twitched.

"It certainly makes small parcel delivery faster." Transference stones were exactly as they sounded—expensive ways of transporting matter from one side of the kingdom to another. They couldn't pass territory boundaries, so they had waystations that would then send them along, then mail carriers that would cross the borders to the next territory and the closest available waystation.

Lords like himself could pass messages for free as a part of their territorial powers, as they could connect with all the transference stones in their territory. For most, it was barely cheaper than traveling the distance themselves. Instead, they would send their mail along with the traveling caravans endorsed by the Royal Delivery service.

The merchants charged small fees set by the royal delivery, though they could negotiate an equivalent trade, and were further paid for successful deliveries by the Royals yearly. Still, as it required them to go on their routes and the Outskirts were rather remote, with some villages only getting mail once a year, if that. It used to be common for ennobled fey to have designated delivery squads as part of their Guard, particularly those in these more remote areas.

Transference stones were both cheaper and safer ways to communicate, and Bartos could send a letter to Queen Annabelle and have it arrive in an hour if necessary. Pulling out some fresh parchment, he started writing up the letter right then and there, clearly eager to pass it along. Kenna let herself fade back to the wall to watch over him, hating herself for it as she watched him take his next step towards falling for someone else.

And with the memory of his hands and mouth all over her skin, the pain was only that much more pronounced.