57.The King’s Burden
57.The King’s Burden
Ciro Thalos Drevyn
Esmarie's door closed shut behind me with a resounding click. For a minute, I just stood there, resisting the urge to turn back and hold her until the fear erased from her eyes completely, until she realised that with me around, no one could hurt her, but I forced myself forward.
She needed space.
Hemne and Thorne followed behind, knowing fully well that the conversation was not over. There was no way in hell I was letting those guardians think for a second that, after hunting down Esmarie and almost killing her twice, they had the right to take her anywhere.
My hands flexed at my sides, claws itching to extend. I just couldn't bring my body to relax. It wanted to tear something apart—Fenrick, the Guardians, whatever “great evil” Hemne had sensed. Anything that dared to threaten Esmarie's safety.
“Ciro,” Hemne cut through the silence the moment we walked through the doors that led to my study, her voice lowering to that reprimanding tone it did whenever she tried to make me see reason. “Esmarie needs to train her powers. Not just for the Guardians, but for herself. To protect herself. You saw what happened with Fenrick—she could have protected herself if she knew how to use her abilities.”
My snarl tore through the room before I could stop myself, claws sliding out just thinking about what happened in the forest. Thorne went stiff. He didn’t move, but his fingers twitched like he was ready to yank Hemne back and out of my way.
“I don’t need you to remind me what happened, Hemne.” I sneered, unconsciously tightening my grip until the desk started to splinter beneath my hand. “I remember every second.”
She held her ground, but something in her eyes softened—a rare crack in that tough shell. “I get it. You hate the idea of her getting hurt. But she’s not some thing you own. She’s the Heir of Light, and yes, your Luna Queen, but her power—Ciro, it’s not just a weapon. It’s who she is. If she doesn’t learn to use it, she’s wide open.”
I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. Everything she said sounded so damn reasonable, and I hated that.
“She’s not ready,” I shot back, voice rough as the anger started to fade. “She’s terrified. You saw her—she was falling apart.”
Thorne leaned in, arms braced on the desk, his whole frame hunched forward. “You’re wrong about her. She’s tougher than you think. You have to trust her. If something’s coming for us, she needs to be ready.”
I glared, but I’d already lost the urge to argue. Esmarie’s glow in the forest—so bright it hurt to look at—had shown me her power, but also how exposed she was. She was a beacon, and beacons call out to every predator for miles. My fists clenched so tight my knuckles cracked. I wanted nothing more than to lock her away where nothing could touch her, but that wasn’t an option. Not with the Guardians waiting. Not with Hemne’s prophecy hanging over us like a storm about to break.
I turned back to Hemne, the choice settling around my shoulders, heavy and suffocating. “Fine,” I said, low and steady. “She’ll train. But I’m in charge. Tell the Guardians I’m handling it myself.”
Hemne’s eyebrows shot up. Surprise flickered across her face. “You? Ciro, you’re a shifter. Her powers are tied to the Guardians. You don’t know how to—”
“I don’t care.” I stepped closer, letting my shadow tower over her. “No one gets near her unless I say so. Not the Guardians. Not anyone. I’ll figure it out.”
I probably sounded crazy. Didn’t matter. She’s mine to protect, whatever it takes.
Hemne let out a long sigh, rubbing her temples. “Do you even know how to teach her?”
I hesitated. My eyes drifted to the maps on the desk—old charts marked with the different numbers and symbols. “No,” I forced out, hating the word. “But you do. Or you will. Find out, Hemne. Everything—how her abilities work, how to control it, how to turn it into a weapon if we have to.”
She nodded, jaw set, determination written across her face. “I’ll check the archives. Maybe there’s something about the Divinity’s rituals. I’ll find us a way.” She swept out without turning back, her cloak billowing as she left.
The door closed behind her, leaving Thorne and me in the room. He lingered, arms crossed, eyes fixed on me with an intensity that set my nerves on edge. I knew that look.
I raised a brow. “What now?”
He shifted, his usual easy grin wiped from his face. “Your judgment’s tomorrow,” he said, his voice low. “The council summoned the Heavenly Order. They’re coming to punish you.”
The words hit like a dull blade, heavy but not sharp enough to cut through my focus. I sighed, leaning back against the desk, the splintered wood creaking under my weight. “Let them come,” I said, my voice flat. “I don’t care about the council or their orders. Not now.”
Thorne’s eyes widened slightly. “Ciro, the Heavenly Order can't be stopped once it's evoked. Do not attempt to enrage them any further, you could get gravely hurt or worse—”
“I said I don’t care.” I pushed off the desk, stepping closer, my shadow looming over him. “All that matters is Esmarie. Keeping her safe. Making sure she’s all right. Whatever comes after—judgment, punishment, war—it comes after.”
Thorne stared at me for a long moment, then nodded, a flicker of respect in his eyes. “You’re a stubborn bastard, you know that?
I snorted, the closest I’d come to a laugh all night. “Takes one to know one.”
He clapped my shoulder, then headed for the door. “I’ll check the wards. Make sure nothing’s sneaking in tonight.” He paused, glancing back."
I nodded, watching his figure slowly retreat into the distance.
A strangled breath escaped my lips as I rubbed my face furiously with my palm. It wasn't that i didn't trust Esmarie to handle such a responsibility, She could handle herself quite alright. What made me so hesitant was that such a responsibility will weigh her down.
The weight of resbonsibility was a heavy burden to bear.