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❝ 𝓔𝓪𝓭𝓻𝓲𝓬 𝓒𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓸 ❞
Six Years Ago
Eadric Calico was a man of pride. He prided himself, in fact, on not bowing to anyone, on remaining as powerful and upright and strong--as in control--as he possibly could, at all times, no matter what. Only certain people were allowed to see into the dark, swirling recesses of his mind, and ever since he had begun to lose people left and right, since his father had gotten stricter, he had shut more and more people away.
Asking for help was not Eadric's forte, nor was it a concept he was familiar with at all, right up there with a sore lack of stellar communication skills. And yet, here he was, panic clawing at his throat for the first time, truly, since Aarlyn had died. The last time he had felt despair well like sharpened claws of a hawk, sinking into him and never letting go had been when Katarina had returned from Fareûn with pure grief in her eyes.
He'd known then, before she even said a word, that his life had changed forever. Just as now, the second the front door to the estate slammed shut, only feet before Eadric, his life had taken yet another change....and that he was going to have to suck up that pride and ask for help. For a week, he had held out, watching the door constantly, slouched in his chair in his office, one hand wrapped loosely around a bottle of wine. That despair had dug deeper, and so to numb it, he had been tasting all the wines he hadn't quite gotten to yet--that red, a pinot, he and Elissa had picked up last year when they'd gone wine tasting; and a chardonnay from a few years before that. It had helped, but only temporarily. The door had never opened, a servant had not come knocking to tell him she was back.
So Eadric had taken a breath. Shoved the wines away, dawned a fresh coat, brushes his hair and pulled it back, and stepped out of his office for the first time in days. He had walked out of the estate and all the way into the city square, with one destination in mind. Behind the anxiety churning about what had happened to Alianna lay the anxiety about asking for help--although, pride he damned, he would get on his knees and beg if he had to.
His firstborn had been his pride and joy. Alianna was his little flame, his angel, with her clever mind and sharp whit, her perfect manners and her skill with wielding fire, just like him. Poised, intelligent, and elegant, his flame had been his heir. Eadric's heart twisted inside him; how many memories did he have of the two of them together, pouring over his letters, his numbers from the mine, his ledgers? Teaching her so much, about his business and Voxthain and her value as the heir to the wealthiest family there was in both cities? How many times had he taught her magic, had they sat and laughed at some of the passing commoners together?
Not even a letter had come.
Could grief hit you, if one was still alive, but somewhere off the face of the moon anyway? Because this certainly felt like that, and as Eadric halted at his destination, at the foot of the stone steps leading up to the imposing building before him, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. For her. For Allie.
Opening his eyes, he took one more breath before forcing his legs to move, but each step matched the heavy beating of his heart, which he realized he could suddenly hear quite clearly. Good Lantas, how long had it been since he had come into this building? Always polished and formidable, made of imposing, smooth marble, pure white with streaks of gold. He avoided it, if he could, but right now, his only hope lay beyond those double doors.
His stomach tightened as he neared them. Would she even help him? Or would she take one look at him and send him away with a flick of her fingers? And he did he even trust her to properly do so? Something tight pinched at Eadric's chest, and he blew a breath out, rubbing one hand between his eyes, at an ache that had started in his forehead. Guilt. Frustration. Always. toss-up, when it came to her now. And longing, he knew, deep down, but refused to say aloud, refused to acknowledge for more than a passing wave.
But right now, desperation buzzed in his mind, a hove of bees. prominent and overtaking all his misgivings, and Eadric strode the rest of the way up the steps of the militia headquarters. Past two soldiers guarding the door, past the flagpole out front, a green-and-gold flag atop it flapping madly in the breeze of the crisp morning air.
His hands shook as he pushed open the doors. Inside, one of the foot soldiers looked up from a receptionist desk. The man stared, blinking once, and then spoke, his words hesitant. "Lord Calico? Are you here to see Commander Hayden?"
"Yes," Eadric snapped once. His stomach knotted, blood going hot at the implication behind the young man's stare--thanks to the Seavey papers, it had not been any secret when the relationship between the Calicos and the Haydens had broken beyond any hope of repair. Maybe their relations had always been slipping, ever since he and Katarina had gotten into disagreements at Cogworks over the value of a life, over the worth of a noble versus someone without that blood. Eadric had been raised a proper Voxthain noble--classist, and proud of it. Nobility commanded respect because they essentially ran the city. But Katarina had never seen it that way, and when they had both been on Council, their relationship had fractured their houses.
Arguing endlessly. Fighting. Some days, it had been hard to even believe they'd once been so close. Cogworks had been the breeding ground for their differences, and Eadric had almost choked on his tea the first day he saw Katarina with that Altan girl, walking and laughing with her as an equal. Eadric had never hated Selene, but he had never viewed her as worth Kat's time, either. But since then, they'd divulged, and Eadric knew he had made things irreversible when he had let slip nasty, classist remarks after Aarlyn had died. No, he had not been in the best headspace--who would have been?--but to see Katarina come back with news of a deceased sister (the only sibling he really had left) and yet, with a child? Somehow, it had sparked flames, and he had said things he wished he could have taken back.
She had never forgiven him, and their Council fights had proved that. Maybe one day, Eadric would realize Katarina had always been the better one, Honorable, fighting for the people, whereas Eadric mainly had had the rights of nobility in his mind, but they had hardly spoken since they'd left Council. Rather, since Eadric had left Council. Kat was stepping down at the end of the week...the entire reason he was here in the first place, technically speaking.
"You can go in." The soldier's words broke through Eadric's thoughts, and he turned from where he had been staring at the dark wood floors, the weapons mounted on the walls, the plaques, the dark green banners edged in gold. Everything was so precise, so orderly, so...Katarina...that it both made Eadric want to hit something and smile at the same time. He had not been here in years, and somehow, being in a building Kat owned was both like coming home, and stepping into the den of a viper.
He blew out a breath, biting his tongue keep from snapping, but good grief he was losing patience. Ever since the announcement had come out, that Alianna had lost the Council election, Eadric had not been showing his face, and for more than just his depression over Allie fleeing. A Calico had always been on Council, save for when Eadric had stepped down. None of his kids had been old enough to run, and truly, he had been too unstable to stay on it. But they were supposed to go back to that seat of power. This whole situation was not supposed to have happened--and he did not want pity, he wanted answers.
Both on the election and on his daughter.
But right now, about to speak to Katarina directly for the first time in awhile, more than just a passing nod or small talk, he had to remind himself to keep that indignant irritation at bay. He was here to demand help. Not accuse her.
Without thanking the man, Eadric turned on his heel and stalked past the reception desk, following signs mounted on the wall for the Commander's office. Turning down the hallway and around a corner, he came to a stop outside a door of polished, dark wood. "Commander K. Hayden" glimmered on a gold plaque in black lettering, and he closed his eyes briefly, once, and knocked.
He shifted. Fidgeted. Tugged at his sleeves. Eadric's nerves jumped, nothing a bottle couldn't soothe, take the edges out, and come to think of it, was the headache stress or was he fucking hungover? Who was to say, really? He--
"Come in."
His stomach tight and mouth dry, Eadric pushed the door open with one hand, the handle cold beneath his palm. Stepping inside the office, he shut the door behind him and immediately found himself face to face with Katarina Hayden. Dressed impeccably in a militia uniform of green and gold, her black hair braided back, she was every inch the commander and not one inch the noble so many had tried to force her to become. A brief, unexpected swell of pride in her choked the air from his lungs and words from his mouth, and he could only stare before the sound of someone shouting from down the hallway broke him from it.
Eadric licked his lips once. "You look well."
Her lips parted, blue eyes widening, before she masked whatever she was feeling within half a second, gesturing at the chair. "What do you need, Lord Calico?"
Shit. It stung. Barbed wire under his skin, slap to the face, Eadric numbly sat in the chair already half pulled out away from her desk. No. This is what's best. This is what you want. He rested his hands atop the desk and inhaled once, sharply, forcing himself to stay focused as she sat across from him, arms folded, dark eyebrow raised expectantly.
"Alianna ran away from home a week ago. Morning of the election results for Council."
Something in Katarina's gaze sharpened before it went darker.
"And she hasn't returned. No letter, nothing. I was hoping--" The words stuck. Like a net had been placed around his vocal box and his heart, they stayed there, rooted in his head, unable to make their way out. Just say it, ask for help, it's Kata. But was it? This was not his Kata. This was a militia commander who hated him.
For good reason, really.
Eadric ran a hand down the side of his face, averting his eyes from the intensity of Katarina's. Those blue eyes of hers had always been sharp, intelligent, but with the compassion that lived in her heart just behind the rest. Truly, she was the best person he knew, and he had no right to ask for her help after all he had done, fighting her on every turn on Council, shaming her for her adoptions, pushing her grief aside when Aarlyn had been lost to both of them.
But he was at a fucking loss.
"I need help," he whispered. "I was hoping--you could send investigators out, or yourself, or...or just--someone to find her, get on her trail, bring her home. Please. Please, Kata." Desperation swelled, writhing down Eadric's spine as he leaned against the table as if it was all that keeping him upright. Distantly, he processed he had accidentally slipped her childhood nickname into that, only when she stiffened slightly. Ah, crap. Apparently, twenty years of friendship died hard.
His Alianna had been his everything, and now, she was gone. A world without her was a world without light--she was the flame, and the world had gone cold without her warmth.
It was silent--too silent--for a long moment as Katarina simply stared at him, tapping one of her hands against the top of her desk. Finally, just as Eadric feared he was about to burst from the panic, she spoke.
"Why?" She asked, direct, her gaze cutting as if her eyes were made of ice. "You mock me, you reject me, you judge me. Your daughter ran away and I don't see how she's in danger, Lord Calico. Alianna has been nothing but a vain, spoiled heiress since the day she was born, harming people different than her since she was five. She lost a fair election because the people know what you've always pretended not to--that she's sadistic and would do more harm than she's worth. She ran on purpose, a petty child unused to not getting what she wanted. I don't think she wants to be found."
Eadric stared, mouth gaping, shock warring with fury as he stared at Katarina, who stood there, as calm as the eye of a hurricane. "I--why? Because I-I love her, and she's not--she's not--"
"Not what, Eadric? She is a terrible person whether or not you choose to acknowledge that."
"It's your job," he burst. And I knew there was a chance she'd say no, but not on the basis of Allie! He had known that Katarina was upset with him, but to refuse to help on basis of his daughter instead of him? "I get you're mad at me, and I am--so sorry for so much of what I've done, but this is my daughter. You wouldn't understand that loss--" As soon as he spoke, he froze. Color drained from his face as his blood turned to chips of ice, fear tightening in his stomach as a heavy silence descended over the room.
"I didn't--I didn't mean--"
"Yes. You did." Katarina pointed a finger at her door, her eyes having gone almost grey, like the steel coating her spine. She stood up straighter, her eyes flashed, and metal hardened every inch of her voice. "Get out."
"Katarina--"
"It's Commander Hayden, and get out of my office before I send in my daughter to remove you. She won't be gentle, and this is the last warning I'm giving. This is an order from me, the militia commander, and from me, the Councilor. Get out of here, Calico, and if you want help so badly, maybe next time consider thinking before you speak. I understand that's hard for you, with how you were raised, thinking everything comes to you on gold plates, because a lot of it has. But Voxthain, despite what nobles believe, is more than just about those in power. Your Alianna was a sadistic bully, and I am done with your classist attitudes about my life and my children. My daughter is more mine than yours ever was yours, anyway, apparently. Get your ass out of here. Immediately."
Tears burned, humiliating, in Eadric's eyes, and he swallowed hard, breaths wheezing out of him as panic clawed at his throat. She had once been his best friend, and he had wrecked that, nailing the final coffin because she was right and he didn't think, she was right and he was born to luxury and a family of nobles who believed blood mattered more than love and adoration. Maybe it was wrong, and deep down he knew that, but he balked still at the idea of admitting the Hayden heir was a foreign, common-born woman who uttered swear words every other sentence and balked at Voxthain's nobles' traditions. Okay, Eadric should have watched his words, but he had been begging, he was panicking, and apparently there was now ay to save himself now.
"Fine," he whispered. "But just know if a human being dies because your militia won't search for her--"
"Oh, Eadie, you have so many other kids. You uppity nobles are so concerned with heirs, just choose another, what's one kid lost? You have multiple, one noble kid's the same as the next, eh?" Katarina stated with a sickly-sweet smile, words syrupy, her eyes lethal slits. "And you so love to make more kids with any woman who lets you within a ten foot radius, so I don't see the concern about your missing child. Go find someone to make a new baby with."
And it cut. A deep blow that had Eadric's mouth hanging open in utter shock she just said that. But before he could get past the sinking feeling in his stomach and the ringing in his ears, she spoke again.
"Calico, I will send one search party for your twisted excuse of a daughter. One, and only because it is, indeed, my job, and because Sergeant Hayden is convinced she's also a murderer of two students at Cogworks, and if this is true, I would like to see her brought to justice. Now out."
"Murderer--no--how dare you? How dare your pathetic--"
"We have evidence stacked up."
"You raided my estate?"
Katarina smiled, and it sent Eadric's hair standing up along the back of his neck. "No. I wrote Sergeant Hayden a search warrant for your estate about two weeks ago. We had evidence from the murder victims, and she's been working that case ever since that poor girl was killed a few years back. Something about the death never sat right, and we finally have enough evidence to convict Alianna of murdering that girl and her boyfriend a few weeks ago."
Fury blossomed through Eadric's chest, heat spreading up from his toes through his arms. "How fucking dare you accuse her of this? This is an abuse of power, Katarina, and I--"
"Abuse of power?" She stepped forward, almost eye-to-eye with him, sharp cheekbones enunciated and hair swept back in a severe, braided knot. Briefly, the image of the woman's terrifying mother came to mind, and he pushed it aside, but chills broke out across his shoulder blades. "You want to talk about that? Okay. Your mines. We also have had reports about unfair treatment of workers, and I have been beginning to look into that. The Seaveys. Unfair abuse of power, manipulating people with their journalism. I am simply exercising my right to keep people safe in Voxthain, and by people, I mean the citizens, not nobles with their heads up their asses like you. I sent you a message saying I was sending an investigative team with a warrant into your estate, Eadric. As I am on Council and a commander, I can do that on basis of actual evidence and a case I'm working. You were apparently too busy screwing women or ripping off your workers to actually read your messages."
"How dare you--"
"How dare I what? Take care of people, catch a murderer, adopt a kid that loves me more than your biological ones ever will? Anyway, we're done here."
The ringing in Eadric's ears turned to a roar, and he could barely hear anything, see where he was going, and he turned on his heel and stormed from her office, slamming the door so hard behind him it shook the frame. Red hazed across Eadric's vision, chest so tight he could barely breathe, finding each inhale shaking and short, a wheezing sound escaping his lips.
How dare she? Fear and frustration, anger, the need to somehow get back at her warred within him. The audacity of accusing his daughter of murder, the audacity of calling out, what, his faults? Of searching his estate and--good Lantas, he missed her. He missed his friend, back when they had grown up together, had laughed together and loved their sister together, and he had messed that up between them.
But would it ever have even worked out, to stay friends with Katarina, when she had always believed in truth and justice and equality, and when Eadric had always shuddered at that thought? Nobles were nobles for a reason, he had believed, and he had stuck by that enough to drive a painful wedge that could never be healed between himself and Katarina.
Perfect, good, terrifying Katarina, who adopted children and loved them fully and endlessly, who befriended a woman of common birth and stuck by her like glue in a way that had Eadric almost jealous.
He'd lost his best friend, and he knew, clearer than the rest of his emotions, that it was his fault. And the worst part was, he didn't know if he could even compromise his own twisted beliefs to even try and make it right again. He knew he owed Elara better, and maybe Alex and Artemisia, especially Alex. He knew some of what he was believing was unfair. But his Allie, she had accused her--she had--
He couldn't think. He should have asked to see the evidence, which maybe he could still, but Katarina had gotten one up on him in there, and for the next few days, there was no way he was going back. After all...he was, indeed, a prideful man.
To a fault.
And he needed a drink, something strong. The urge gripped him, to knock back a vodka, forget about everything plaguing him--Alianna, the murders she was accused of, her running away, the loss of a Calico staple on Council--fucking Caledonia Hayden taking that place instead, of all awful people--his own guilt over how he had treated Katarina, missing her, all of it. Only a cold vodka could solve that problem, and then a bottle of spiced wine.
Because darkness had closed in, and he saw no way out but blackness. At least until his Allie was home. He could cross that bridge when he came to it, and then go to the Seaveys and demand, what, the smear Hayden's name? Somehow force her to drop out of Council before she even got in there in a week? Ask the woman herself if she rigged it?
Why would anyone vote for that bad-tempered bitch instead of his Allie? Distantly, he knew maybe it was because of the nugget of truth Kat had said--that Alianna was sadistic, classist, and hurt the people to the point where they didn't want her in charge. And he knew Hayden worked with women, she worked with the kids, she cared, she shared their blood.
But it didn't mean Eadric wasn't furious.
And right now, all he could do was drink away his anger.
