Mornings have a way of tangling themselves into Eden's mind.
They wind their way into every crack and crevice, squeezing in where no sunlight reaches, brightening him up from the inside. Sometimes, he thinks that his eyes glow like Val's; there's so much light in him that he might explode. His heart swells at the sight of the magnificent sun, pushing past the confines of his ribs, outlining itself beneath his skin, concealed by his Sentinel regalia. It washes away the despair of the night before, searing away his memories until the moon rises again.
There's no sun today. It hides behind angry grey storm clouds as rain pelts the capital. A million droplets snake into the spaces between the tiles of the rooftops, running over the eaves of the roofs and soaking anyone who dares to cross beneath them.
Eden's fingers tap on the table beneath his hands. He fixes his attention on a rambunctious pack of children that fill the streets below, their screams and shouts absorbed by the stone walls of the Citadel.
Mornings have a way of tangling themselves into Eden's mind, but not this morning. His hands ache to rid himself of it.
"Buenos dias," says the Sentinel beside him. He's older, with crow's feet, and he's a patrol captain like Eden, his name hopelessly forgettable.
Eden nods at him. "Good morning indeed. I haven't seen so much rain in years."
The older Sentinel sighs. "We may all drown in it soon enough." He looks across the table, and then at the door, where the nine other patrol captains are beginning to file in. They take their seats, murmuring to each other, although the chair at the head of the table remains absent. "Do you have any idea why we've been called here?"
Another patrol captain- Ramos- leans back in his chair. His left eye is electric blue and lower down his face than his right. "It can't be anything good if Casillis is late." The twist of his lips is almost mocking. This is what they call Valentine. Not a Don. Not Head Sentinel. Casillis. They reduce him to the name Eden knows he hates the most. "I couldn't help but notice you leaving his quarters a few hours ago, Tudor."
Eden continues tapping away on the tabletop. There's a map of the city laid atop of it. His middle finger finds a steady rhythm over the district of Dinastía. "I'm his substitute. Part of my job is to be there for him to confide in. He can't keep all of his duties to himself." He shrugs. "He's probably trying to placate the blue bloods again. I wouldn't worry so much about it."
"You find you way to his quarters often, though," taunts Auditor, whose skin is darker than the rest of them. "So often, in fact, that there must be so much to discuss between the two of you."
A chorus of laughter rises from the table. Eden's pounding Dinastía hard enough for his finger to hurt.
"We're friends," states Eden once the laughter dies down.
"Is that what you call yourselves?" Ramos spits.
"Would you like me to regale you with the definition of friend?" Eden smiles. "Pardon me, Ramos, but I wasn't aware you didn't understand Edeiran. I'd love to teach you if you'd only take your head out of your arse to hear me."
Ramos bangs his fists on the table, right over Cruce. "Don't try to school me on my language, you Wilshorian dog. Wasn't it Casillis that taught you to speak our tongue, after all? Did he feed you vocabulary along with something else? Hymns of murder? Ways to curry royalty's favour? His-"
"He fed me a pistol," Eden tells the table. "I could shoot you with it if you don't shut up."
"I'm terrified," mocks Ramos. "We all know you're ever so talented with your hands."
The table erupts with guffaws. Eden stands, pushing his chair out, letting it clatter to the ground.
"You know nothing about him," Eden hisses. "None of you do. You think it's funny to talk behind his back. I hear it all. Murderer's son. Half-breed. Don't you have better things to do than to laugh at a boy? What does that make all of you?"
Ramos glares. Auditor scoffs. The rest of the table falls silent.
With no warning, the door opens. Every Sentinel in the room stands to attention but for Eden, who straightens. Val lingers in the doorway, glowing eyes sweeping the room.
"Take your seats," he murmurs.
They all move to do as he says, lowering themselves into their chairs. Eden goes to pick his up, cheeks heating, setting it straight before sitting. Now that Val's here, Ramos and Auditor are quiet.
Val doesn't sit. He takes his place at the head of the table, head bowed for a time. As the silence extends, he shakes his head back and forth, lifting his eyes to look at them.
"I won't mince words with you," he begins. "Especially considering that you all seemed so jovial before I got here."
Someone clears their throat.
"I received word that Doña Rosalinda de Silva is in danger. I've sent a telegram ahead to Covigo. They're likely preparing a contingent of Sentinels to be her escort into Migos. The bluebloods have convinced His Majesty to throw a grand fete in her honour the night of her arrival in Migos. I'll need one of you to be her personal guard for the evening." He breathes in. "You're the country's best. I'd expect nothing less of excellence from any of you when protecting our future queen."
Eden raises a quiet hand. Val acknowledges him with a nod.
"Why didn't you tell us anything about this before?" Why didn't you tell me?
"I thought it was best to keep things quiet." Val pauses, looking Eden in the eye. "Just until I knew what to do with the information."
"And what information might that be?" asks Ramos. "Who did you receive word from?"
"That's not important."
Auditor crosses his arms. "Just tell us. We need that information if one of us is about to sign off to protect the Silva girl."
"More information will only waste more time. Someone needs to do this."
"Well," huffs Auditor, "why don't you do it?"
Val frowns. "Because I am Head Sentinel. Too many things require my attention."
"In light of what, exactly?" Ramos raises an eyebrow. "Tudor's fainting spell?"
"Like I said earlier," Eden snaps, "don't presume to speak as if you know anything."
"You're right, actually." Ramos steeples his fingers and leans back in his chair. "I don't know anything. None of us do except for you, clearly." His electric blue gaze slides to Val. "The Head Sentinel won't tell us."
Val puts his palms flat on the table. "I'm not under any obligation to share everything with you. Any of you. Whatever I make Don Eden aware of is for the sake of his status of my substitute and nothing more. To disregard that-"
"Right. And he's your substitute because you had the power to put him there. Never mind that he's not Edeiran. I mean, really. Would you let an indio be your substitute? No. Then why a Wilshorian?"
"-is insubordination," Val continues, as if Ramos never spoke. "Your concern should cover the extent of your assigned patrol district and nothing more. I don't care how you feel about it. I'm offering you a chance to prove yourselves. Rosalinda de Silva could die. Do you understand?"
Ramos and Auditor exchange looks. One of the younger patrol captains, Villanueva, with fidgeting fingers, presses his lips into a thin line. The older Sentinel at Eden's side mutters something about his family before falling silent. The rest of the table hurriedly averts their eyes.
Eden stares up at his best friend. There's something about Val that's off today, but he can't put his thumb on it. His gaze is too shifty, like he's peering through a fog. Dark circles have found a place under his glowing eyes. His face is washed grey like the sky.
"I'll do it," Eden says. "I'll protect Rosalinda de Silva."
Val shakes his head. "You're my substitute."
"But no one else wants the responsibility." Eden gestures at the rest of the table. "If they don't want a chance to prove themselves, then I do."
Something in Val's eyes is almost- dare Eden think it?- emotional. If they were alone, Val might lean over the table. His brows might furrow. I can't risk you, he might say. You're my best friend. My only friend. If you were gone, what would I have left?
But Eden has a feeling Val won't dare lose face in front of men who already possess such meagre respect for him. Who call him names and laugh when they think he isn't listening. Who drink secret toasts to his demise.
Val relents. "You're right." He looks to the rest of the table. "Back to your posts, everyone. Ready yourselves for your noon-time patrols."
The others heave sighs. Villanueva wipes the sweat from his forehead, giving Eden an appreciative nod. The older Sentinel claps him on the shoulder as he files out. Eden goes to push in the chairs, humming to himself, listening to the rain pelt the window.
"I know that lullaby," Val says. "My mother used to sing it for me."
"It's one of my favourites," admits Eden. "I can't remember how it starts."
"Wasn't it... When the flowers freeze and the snows descend, nobody's hands can mend your pain but mine?"
Eden smiles. "You're right. And then- may there always be love, and always be heat."
"May there always be mother," Val adds.
"May there always be me," Eden finishes.
They stare at each other for a moment.
"You always had an accent in Wilshorian," Eden tells him. "Pretty sure it's from lack of practice."
Val's lips twitch into an almost-smile before he turns away. "It's Rufina," he whispers.
"Huh?"
"Rufina's going to kill Rosalinda de Silva."
"What? Rufina de Borja?" Eden's met her a few times. She comes for Val on his birthday. They tour the beach together, and Val always comes back starry-eyed. "Your friend?"
"She thinks there's some conspiracy going on, that something terrible will happen if King Miguel and Rosalinda marry. She says she knows a secret that cost her brother his life once he heard of it. But it... it doesn't make sense, Eden. Ramon's alive. He's been telegraphing, sending letters. People have seen him, but she seems to think he never even left Migos."
"Was she lying?"
"She seemed to believe everything she said, so I wasn't sure." Val runs a hand through his hair. "Either way, something has her terrified. If she tries to kill the Silva girl, and you get in the way... I don't know if I could forgive myself."
Eden sighs. "I know, Val."
"I'm going to arrest her," he announces. "I don't want her doing anything foolish. I told her that I wouldn't tell the king it was her, but..." He purses his lips. "I had to. Hopefully, you staying by Rosalinda de Silva's side will only be pretense."
"Hopefully," Eden agrees. "Also- what happened last night? Did you find anything at the hospice?"
Val hesitates. His fingers curl in on themselves. "Nothing of note."
Eden watches his fingers. Curl. Uncurl. Curl. Uncurl.
"Are you sure?"
Val shrugs. "An indio broke in looking for treatment. A nurse was killed. It was unfortunate."
"But not supernatural."
Val pushes away from the table, staring out the window. "Not supernatural at all."
Eden clears his throat. "I guess I'll get ready for my patrol, then."
Val nods. "I'll see you for supper?"
"See you then." Eden waves.
Val frowns at the rain as Eden leaves. Curl. Uncurl. Curl. Uncurl. And Eden realizes something:
Val was lying.
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