The Tyrant King And I

20. Out for Blood

"What is going on?" Natalie's voice cracked as she backed toward the wall, her heart thudding wildly in her chest.

This wasn't happening.

It couldn't be happening.

Kagan was her professor. A respected scholar. A frail old man who shuffled through lectures with a cane and corrected her Yorn pronunciation with grandfatherly patience.

And yet here he stood—no, squared off against Adriel.

Adriel's shoulders were hunched forward, his hands flexing at his sides, coiled like a predator who had already decided to pounce. 

His voice was thick with something ancient and dangerous as he hissed in ancient Yorn, "You shouldn't be alive."

Kagan's expression shifted, his eyes darkening with something that Natalie hadn't seen before.

"Neither should you," he replied.

His voice was cold, unlike she had ever heard before, sending chills down her spine.

"You were respectable, boy," Kagan murmured as if she wasn't even there, as if they stood on a battlefield and not in a cramped office cluttered with papers and dusty books. "But too arrogant to defeat me."

Natalie's stomach dropped.

"Wait—no, that's not—" she stammered. "That's Professor Kagan!"

Neither of them heard her.

With a guttural shout, Adriel jumped toward the coat rack by the door. He ripped one of the long umbrellas free, spinning it once in his hands.

He wielded it like a weapon—fluid, instinctual. Like a sword.

"You'll die by my hand this time, old man!" Adriel roared.

He swung.

Kagan moved.

The professor was suddenly not frail. At all. He ducked under the swipe with terrifying ease, his cane coming up to parry the second blow.

The crack of wood meeting wood echoed through the office, startling Natalie into a flinch.

She stood frozen, watching as Kagan stepped in close, driving his cane toward Adriel's ribs with speed and precision that didn't belong to a man pushing seventy.

Adriel twisted aside, sliding one of the heavy oak chairs across the polished floor with a violent shove, then leapt onto a desk.

The chair slammed toward Kagan, who knocked it aside with the butt of his cane like it weighed nothing.

This wasn't a scuffle. This was a full on fight.

Natalie's head spun.

Kagan—Paco?

He certainly fought like someone who had done this before. Fought Adriel like he'd been waiting for the moment to do it again.

Another sharp exchange—Adriel's umbrella swinging, Kagan's cane striking like a staff—and then Kagan slipped free, moving fast, weaving through the cluttered office toward the door.

Adriel followed, shoving past Natalie without sparing her a glance.

She stumbled after them, still stunned, her brain a frantic mess of questions with no answers.

The hallway outside was almost empty, just a few startled students staring wide-eyed as the two men barreled through. Kagan ducked into a side corridor. Adriel gave chase closely behind, swift in his white sneakers.

By the time Natalie caught up, Adriel was standing in front of a half-open door marked Storage.

"Where is he?!" Adriel snarled, kicking it open.

The room was dark, musty, and empty. Gone.

Adriel cursed in ancient Yorn, stalking inside, scanning every corner like he could will Kagan back into existence.

Natalie grabbed his arm, yanking him back toward the door.

"Enough!" she hissed. "We are going home! Right now!"

He shook her off, turning on her with a dangerous edge in his eyes.

"Do not tell me what to do, woman," he said, his voice low and fierce. "I will wait here until he returns."

Natalie stepped back, suddenly afraid of him. She could feel the tension vibrating through him, could see it in the way his hands clenched at his sides.

This wasn't the Adriel she'd coaxed through buying socks. 

This was a king. A warrior who had skinned his enemies alive. And she was dangerously close to pushing too hard.

She stepped back, forced herself to breathe. Soft. She had to soften.

"Adriel," she said carefully, keeping her tone steady. "Was that really... King Paco?"

His jaw flexed. "Yes."

"And you're sure?"

"He appears older. But I would know his face anywhere."

She exhaled slowly. "Okay."

He looked at her, still tense, waiting.

"Then you should know," she continued, "if it is him... he wrote about you. Respectfully."

Adriel frowned, his eyes narrowing. "He lied about everything."

"Not everything."

Natalie reached into her bag, pulling out the thick, well-worn copy of The Dark Gap: Lost Kingdoms and Forgotten Wars by Professor Kagan. She flipped to the chapter she'd practically memorized.

She read aloud.

"'Adriel the Younger was arrogant—undeniably so—but he was a remarkable leader. Talented, strong, resilient, and intelligent beyond his years. Had it not been for a single act of betrayal, he may have ruled all the lands of the Relasis and Uyun, uniting them under his banner.'"

Adriel stood still. Silent.

She closed the book.

"See! He respected you. Even if you were enemies."

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then his shoulders eased, only slightly. Natalie nodded, her chest loosening enough for her to breathe again.

"Come on," she said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let's get out of here."