Chapter 62. Unknown Pieces

SAELYNA

The door opens and Quain walks out bleary-eyed, dark hair matted to one side of his face, covering the scar. He isn’t wearing the dirty brown coat he had on earlier, he wears a white shirt; on closer look, I recognize it’s Cyran’s.

He releases a satisfactory sigh when a slight gust of breeze blows our way. I can guess at his thoughts; Quain lived in his family house on the hill overlooking the millers, and we used to spend afternoons on his oak tree in the fall, looking out over the northern plains and the king’s road that we dreamed of traveling on one day, if we were to go to Qarax.

That was a lifetime ago.

“Can’t sleep?” I ask.

He opens his eyes then, as if just recognizing my presence, and gives me a wistful smile. “No.” He leans in and adds, “It’s just that your brother is a really good singer.”

I chuckle at his sarcasm. The complete opposite.

“Sorry. Cyran snores like his life depends on it. I should know, I’ve lived with hi