The Tidal Wave That Seized My Walls - Chapter 14

“He was hurt, so I brought him back. After talking to him, it seemed he had nowhere else to go—so I thought I’d let him stay here for now.”

“You ‘talked’ to him?”

Just then, the boy—who had been silent until now—lifted his chin. I didn’t look away from his black eyes.

“Name.”

Sandora seemed to realize she hadn’t even asked. Curious herself, she turned to him. His gaze slid past me, settling on her face instead.

“Kyrran.”

Sandora repeated, soft as a sigh—whether it was Kyrran or Corran, she didn’t seem to care. The boy, a full head taller than Edryd, stared down at her, unblinking.

Edryd grabbed Sandora’s wrist and yanked her back.

“Edryd!”

He glared at the two of them, disgusted. The boy—completely oblivious—still hadn’t taken his eyes off Sandora.

“No. My gut’s screaming it. There’s something off about him.”

And honestly? I’d never met one of his kind who wasn’t trouble. They traveled in packs, up to no good—how he’d wormed his way into Sandora’s favor, I had no idea. But I couldn’t shake the unease either.

“Corran?”

I’d just heard it, but the name already felt slippery in my mind. The boy’s eyes—previously locked on Sandora—swiveled slowly toward me.

“Parents?”

His gaze darkened—a brief but unmistakable shadow. He parted his lips slowly.

“Gone.”

“Gone? Where do you get off talking like that?”

Edryd really seemed to hate this kid. He was like a trained hound, poised to attack at every opening. But the boy didn’t even flinch at the provocation.

“You people always travel in packs. So—no foster parents? Or no real parents?”

Silence fell over Sandora and Edryd. Even the boy’s previously detached eyes shifted, glinting with something dangerous. He took a step forward.

“You know us?”

“Know of you. And your parents were probably mixed in with the others I’ve seen around.”

I tilted my head calmly. Suspicious—no doubt about it.

“Sandora. Sorry, but I can’t take your side on this.”

“Iyara.”

For some reason, Sandora was shielding him. Maybe he’d charmed her, or maybe she’d just fallen for it.

“We have to send him away.”

“Edryd!”

Edryd showed no sign of backing down. Sandora looked betrayed—had she expected me, another back-alley rat, to embrace and defend him? But at least I never killed anyone. His kind ganged up on people and ended them. Unless there was a reason I didn’t know about, I had no intention of letting Sandora keep him around.

Edryd and Sandora went on arguing for what felt like an eternity. They were still pointing fingers and yelling about who was right and who was wrong even as I turned to leave, my mind already on the pile of homework waiting for me. They didn’t finally split up until long after the sun had set. Edryd trailed behind me, whistling a cheerful tune, while Sandora stormed off and slammed her door, anger in every step.

I didn’t think it was anything to worry too much about. After all, no one knew how to handle themselves quite like Sandora.

* * *

After falling out with Sandora, Edryd practically moved into my bedroom. Whether it was because he thought he’d taken my side or not, he seemed to think he belonged there—even when I snapped at him, he just shrugged it off. He wouldn’t leave no matter how much I complained, so I’d long since given up.

Sure, he occasionally helped me study, but putting up with his endless chatter was a high price to pay. Still, once in a while, he’d dig up something useful.

“What’s that for?”

“Quiet. Just sit still.”

The prince was due to arrive in a matter of days. After Edryd’s tattling, Grandfather reluctantly agreed to have that unsettling boy treated—but only out of duty—and decided he’d be sent outside the very day the prince arrived. Sandora hadn’t spoken to either of us since. I didn’t really care, but Edryd seemed to take it as the ultimate betrayal.

So he complained. And complained. And then complained some more. I was on the verge of growing ear-calluses until I finally yelled at him to shut up—that’s when he switched topics to the prince. Lately, I’d heard so much about His Highness I was honestly sick of it. My etiquette tutor drilled into me endlessly—do this, don’t do that—until I was ready to throw up from exhaustion.

Edryd, of course, had to add his two cents—something about “how to avoid falling for the prince’s pranks.”

“I learned this at the academy. There’s a whole network of victims who’ve suffered because of him. You’ll be enrolling with the prince this winter anyway, so you’d better be prepared.”

“Since when does slicing meat require a specific arm angle? Are you seriously telling me I can’t lift my arm higher than the prince’s?”

I threw the etiquette manual across the room. I already disliked the prince, and now, thanks to him, I had to memorize a mountain of pointless, overly complicated rules. Edryd just chuckled, picking up the book I’d tossed aside.

“Relax. Nobody actually pays attention to that stuff—everyone’s too nervous anyway.”

“I don’t know. My head hurts.”

“Cousin, just remember what I told you. You’re going to be introduced to the prince as the next Yereka—and with all the rumors flying around, everyone’s going to be watching you.”

I’d heard over fifty noble families had already confirmed their attendance upon news of the prince’s visit to the West. And that was after trimming down the list—apparently, every Western noble was sending their children, handpicked and preened for the occasion. My head throbbed just trying to memorize the family trees on the guest list.

“By the way, cousin—are you ready?”

Edryd asked, perching on the edge of my desk.

“For what?”

“Your mother’s gift.”

“What?”

At my blank expression, he sighed, “Poor Auntie…” If something like that existed, someone would’ve told me sooner. Even Grandfather hadn’t dropped a single hint.

“Well, her official birthday’s in summer, but the real one is tomorrow. We usually just exchange small gifts among family…”

Edryd left soon after, muttering, “Guess everyone’s just too distracted. With the prince visiting, she’s probably the busiest of all right now.”

After that, I couldn’t focus on studying anymore. I slid open my desk drawer and pulled out a small brooch I kept there. It was from the day I first saw the Light—the day Grandfather asked what I wanted as a reward. Back then, I was just reading alone when Mother approached me…

‘Are you busy?’

‘No.’

Mother sat down in front of me, where I’d been half-heartedly turning pages. Seeing how little progress I was making, she gave a soft smile and spoke, as if to console me, comparing it to her own experience.

‘I hated these kinds of books the most, too. Don’t do this, don’t do that. Don’t cry, don’t get angry…’

Her words, which had been almost melodic, gradually faded. Mother asked in a low voice,

‘I heard you saw the light?’

‘Yes.’

Mother said, “I see,” and pinned the brooch to my chest. It was a brooch with a ruby placed on top of several overlapping leaves.

‘To my eyes, light is that color. You might see it differently, of course.’

Before I could even offer my thoughts, Mother slipped out of my bedroom. I just stared blankly at the brooch. A brooch as red as my mother’s hair. I didn’t dare touch it; so as soon as I took it off, I put it in my desk. I rubbed my thumb over the brooch wrapped in a handkerchief.

I took out a clean piece of parchment. I dipped my pen in ink and poured my heart out onto it. The drawing was so bad I tore it up and started over dozens of times. It was a dark evening by the time I finished. I had barely managed to produce something passable, but I was unsure if it was okay to deliver it so late at night.

Tomorrow, everyone would give Mother the gifts they had prepared. My thing was too shabby to be slipped in among theirs. Maybe it was better to sneak it to her tonight and be done with it. I decided quickly. I wiped my ink-stained hand on a handkerchief, neatly folded the parchment, and picked it up.

I crept up the stairs like a thief, passing three doors. It was a good thing I had memorized the way. I stopped in front of the door with the red carpet.

Knock, knock. The moment I knocked, a response came from inside.

‘Come in.’

It seemed she had been expecting someone. Mother was still awake, lying on her bed with a red wine glass in one hand. Without even looking at me, she spoke first.

“You said you had something to say and have been chattering since morning. You’re only coming now?”

She seemed angry at the person she’d been waiting for. I opened my mouth quietly.

“It’s me.”

Mother’s head shot up immediately. Wearing a confused expression, she let out a small cough.

“Iyara?”

I knew perfectly well I was the last person she’d expect at this hour. I understood her bewilderment. This was an impulsive decision. Hearing about her birthday and seeing that brooch again—I just couldn’t sit still and let the day pass.

“I have something for you.”

Mother’s eyes held a questioning look, as if trying to guess what I was hiding behind my back. But now that I was here, I worried that I’d made a fuss over nothing. As I fidgeted uneasily, Mother gestured for me to come closer.

“Give it here.”

Mother had always been quick to read a situation. She set down her wine glass and offered a relaxed smile.