Page 31 of Of Might and Mettle

“I’m your brother,” Antonio said. “You know me. You know I wouldn’t lie.”

“I don’t think you’re lying . . .” Cristian trailed off, but the rest of his unspoken words hung in the air.

But Cristian didn’t exactly believe him either.

“I can’t put my reputation on the line right now, Antonio.” Cristian sighed. “There’s a lot riding on everything going well for the princess’s birthday. I have to take care of this, and I don’t have time for your . . .” he trailed off.

“Delusions?” Antonio all but spat.

He hadn’t heard that word since he’d finally been well enough to move out of his childhood home a year ago. Those first few months after the accident had been a waking nightmare, and his dreams had been plagued with fire and ghosts come back to life. At first, Cristian had listened to him, gone out to check whatever invisible danger Antonio had seen. But eventually, he’d stopped, and Antonio went investigating on his own.

He knew other soldiers had seen his more difficult moments. At first, when a gun went off in training, he would be transported back to that moment on the docks when his world went from blue endless skies to all-consuming red blaze.

Antonio blinked away the red that burned his vision to focus on Cristian in front of him. His brother’s gaze had turned wary, tinged with concern.

Cristian sighed. “If you find anything more concrete,” he said, “tell any one of my men. You can trust them to get it back to me.”

Antonio glanced away, but Cristian shook his shoulder.

“At least trust my judgement. And I trust them.” Cristian frowned slightly. “I’m sure you trust your men.”

Antonio thought back to Gabriel. The young lad was loyal, still free of the weight of the world that Antonio had witnessed. And, up to now, he had kept quiet about Antonio’s investigation. He could trust Gabriel and Cristian. Maybe he could bring himself to trust someone else, too.

And even as he thought of it, Lorelle’s face flashed in his mind. Maybe there was something more to trust than knowing that the other person would take a bullet for you.

The quiet kind of trust, sitting in a clearing and playing with a wolf pup, knowing that in that moment at least, he had nothing to hide. Trusting that when he met her gaze, he would find compassion, empathy, and a strength that ran deeper than the might of ten men.

When he looked to his brother now, he saw conflict beneath the wariness in his expression. Cristian wanted to believe him. But he wouldn’t take him only at his word.

And then Cristian was called away for some detail and Antonio turned. He would listen to his brother, but only inasmuch as he knew where he could find someone to trust.

After patrolling the castle grounds himself, which took him far too long, Antonio found Gabriel exactly where he’d been assigned hours earlier: the allure overlooking the cliff side. He stood straight, not leaning against the wall, looking out over the courtyard. And Antonio thought he might have stayed that way, still as a statue, if it wasn’t for a little gray bundle of fur running out from behind him.

“Hey, get back here—” Gabriel broke from formation, and Antonio scooped up the wriggling pup, waving Gabriel back to position. “Disculpa, Capitán,” Gabriel apologized. “He woke up and I let him down for a moment—”

Antonio dismissed his apologies. “This pup’s liable to convince anyone to let their guard down,” he said.

“What’s his name?” Gabriel asked, smiling as Peluche tried to bite at Antonio’s fingers. “You know, for being so ferocious, he’s rather cuddly like a—”

Antonio cleared his throat, cutting off whatever Gabriel would have said. “Have you seen anything of note?” he asked.

Gabriel immediately sobered, frowning. “No. Just a few more dancers coming through, the last-minute preparations for tomorrow, and word is the prince received a communication from Elevsk.”

Antonio gave him a look. “Turning into a gossip, are you?”

Gabriel blinked. “Is it gossip if I’m on my post and two other guards are talking so loud I can hear them across the courtyard?” His words might have been a joke in response to Antonio’s banter, but the confusion in his eyes made it clear he didn’t catch Antonio’s tone.

Antonio fought a wave of guilt. Maybe he could have stood to be more open with Gabriel before, really take him under his wing. But there was no time for that now.

“Come on,” he said, turning back down the steps of the wall to the courtyard. “We’re going to see the king.”

“What about my post?”

Antonio looked over his shoulder. “You won’t have a post if you don’t come with me,” he said. “This is life or death.”

Gabriel shot down the steps and reached Antonio halfway across the courtyard—which he might have done even walking at a normal pace, as Antonio was slow. His knee creaked and his hip ached, and he was going far too slow for the encroaching pink of dawn on the horizon. Would he even be allowed to speak with the king at this hour? Antonio would need to ask the steward to wake him. But he would try.

Oh, Lord, would he try.