Honour or Reason - Book 1# in the Burning Prince Chronicles

Chapter Fourteen

The words slipped out because they had to. Brilyn rose to his feet, eyes locked on his friends. They both gaped at him, eyes full of hurt and guilt. Bri swallowed hard and turned away from them. He hurt all over and wanted more than anything to collapse on the foreign soft mattress of the prince. But I can't - not if they are to be safe. His legs shook as he slowly walked away from them, the sour aftertaste of his cruel words on his tongue. His chest ached painfully, and his breaths were shallow and shattered. He hadn't realized how serious the inflictions upon his body truly were. Brilyn imagined the skin above his ribs purple and yellow with bruising. He dreaded what his new tattoo would look like. Perhaps it was just a scarred mess.

Bri gripped the bookshelves to balance himself as the edges of his vision darkened. His head was filled with pressure and he wanted nothing but to crack it open, be rid of the vice clamping down on his temples. He heard Con and Aglaesha following him but dared not turn back to them. He couldn't bear it if he saw their faces. Brilyn set his jaw and kept struggling down the aisle, willing his legs not to give out beneath him. They trembled violently with effort. He bit down hard on his lip as a lightning bolt of pain struck his back.

"Don't be a fool, Brilyn!" Conlaed called angrily, jogging to his side. Brilyn swallowed hard. "Leave me be."

His world almost fell on its side when Aglaesha came from behind and pried him off the bookshelf. Her eyes were wide with fear. Bri glared at her as she forced him to sit. He was too weak to move against her, so he only growled when she pushed his head against his bent knees. The Mage pressed a warm reassuring hand on his back, and he felt Con kneel in front of him. A shudder ran between his shoulder blades as Aglaesha began to gently stroke the back of his neck. Brilyn let out a little sigh.

He might have given the world to have fallen into his friends' arms if only for a moment. He was so, so tired. Brilyn was tired of keeping secrets. They weighed him down like rocks. He was drowning. He could barely breathe, and soon enough there would be no breath left in him. None at all.

He gazed up slowly, timidly. The prince's green eyes pierced through him like a pin through a butterfly. "Conlaed - "

"Brilyn! You brought him back to me - I mean, there you are!"

No. No! NO!

The Guardian was hurrying toward them, purple eyes filled with concern, only not for Bri. His robes billowed behind as he sprinted toward the trio. The Fox sank to his knees beside his apprentice, face concerned. I forgot about his masks. Bri tried not to recoil as Jarete gathered him carefully in his arms. He could feel his master's iron grip on him, not the gentle caress of a worried loved one. Brilyn wondered if his friends noticed it.

Conlaed gave the Guardian a strange knowing smile, while Aglaesha stood there frowning. Con is a fool. Bri moved his gaze to the Mage's. It would be the only chance he had to try and tell her. He locked his eyes on hers, waiting for a response. Please, Aglaesha. Look at me. Look at me. If he didn't warn someone, they would all be damned. He was certain of it. Brilyn needed someone to really see that monster. He prayed the gods would open his friend's eyes to Jarete's act, his terrible grip on his ward, his wickedness. Hear my prayer. Please.

She met his gaze. Brilyn's heart stuttered. For a moment they just stared at each other, Brilyn having forgotten his purpose. When she inclined her head slightly, he remembered. Bri summoned all the bravery he could as he mouthed: Don't trust foxes.