Nial's posture was ramrod straight. If Graydon's question intimidated him, you wouldn't be able to tell by the way he held himself.
Graydon stepped forward, managing to seem threatening from that one motion. The skin around Nial's eyes tightened saying he wasn't entirely obtuse, reading the danger he was in.
"Because the emperor himself decreed the Lady Kira couldn't be challenged by those outside her House," Graydon said through bared teeth, his smile that of a dragon who'd cornered its prey.
"He said she couldn't be challenged; nothing about her doing the challenging," one of the initiates chimed in.
The oshota's jaw flexed, even as he held his silence.
Graydon fixed a dangerous look on the initiate. "Why am I not surprised to find House Dethos obeying the letter of the emperor's decree rather than its intent?"
Silence answered him.
A heavy sigh gusted from Graydon as he focused his piercing gaze on Kira. "And did you challenge them?"
Kira started to speak only to find Talon already talking. "Dethos struck first. Even by the loosest of definitions, the part of challenger would be considered theirs." His gaze flicked to the oshota. "If you wanted to instigate a challenge, you probably shouldn't have picked a place heavily frequented by Roake."
The oshota's jaw worked as he ground his teeth.
"It is possible my initiates got a little overzealous greeting the lost daughter of House Roake." The words seemed ripped out of him.
Graydon arched an unimpressed eyebrow. "I'm sure." He ran a gaze over the rest. "It seems this scheme backfired on them. I have no doubt half the city will learn your initiates got their asses handed to them by a few humans and a woman you have a distressing tendency to refer to as insane."
Nial didn't respond to the taunt, his movements jerky as he headed for the door, barking over his shoulder, "Let's go."
Slowly the rest of House Dethos filed after him as they shot fulminating glares at the rest of them.
Kira stopped next to Graydon. "I didn't know you were itching for another round in our bout."
His smile came, slow and wicked, tugging at Kira's insides. "Anytime, anywhere, coli. It was the highlight of my week."
His words brushed along Kira's senses, sparking a warmth inside. Call her strange, but fighting Graydon was like having all her senses ramped up a thousand-fold. It was exhilarating and thrilling because she never knew if she'd win—not that she planned to let him know that.
Kira made her way to the table where Wren stood, gazing at the half-destroyed glasses. Surprisingly, a few still stood.
"I expected better of you all," Wren said as she approached.
Raider collapsed into his seat, snagging a shot and drinking it down.
"Don't know why," Raider said, pointing the hand that held the glass at Wren. "I think we cleaned up pretty well."
Especially since one of them appeared to have had more alcohol than they should have, Kira thought with a spurt of amusement.
She was surprised at the feeling of nostalgia and regret that the night was over.
How many bars had she and the Curs closed out? How many times had one of them gotten into a fight only to have the rest step up to protect their back? A unit even when they weren't on the battlefield.
"This shows a critical lack of judgment," Wren continued as if Raider wasn't even speaking. His attention was locked on Kira, letting her know who was the real recipient of this lecture. "You're unfamiliar with this world and its customs. Drinking until you're intoxicated puts you at a disadvantage."
Graydon picked up the glass in front of her seat, taking a sip and grimacing. "Not as much as you might think."
He handed the glass to Wren, who sniffed it. His forehead wrinkled, and he took a small sip. "What is this?"
Graydon's eyes seemed to glitter with amusement. "You weren't really drinking, were you? At least not keeva."
Raider straightened out of his slouch, his dismayed gaze shooting to Kira's. "No."
Kira winced.
"You wouldn't mess with tradition," he said in a hushed whisper.
"Technically, tequila is tradition," she pointed out.
He pounded on the table. "Getting drunk is the tradition. That's why I got the keeva."
"If it's any consolation, I switched our drinks on the third shot so neither one of us would get too drunk," she told him.
He stared blearily up at her as his head started shaking and then kept shaking. "I thought we were sharing a moment." He flopped back in his chair. "I feel so used.”
Consternation filled Kira. "At least I thought I switched them."
"You did," Finn assured as he joined them. "Keeva can be intoxicating for humans as well."
"Oh boy," Kira said, staring at Raider with new eyes. She'd thought he was pretending to be worse off than he was. Turns out she was wrong.
She scrubbed a hand over her face. "He is going to be so mad later."
Blue appeared at her side. "Yup. As soon as his hangover subsides, he's going to be gunning for you, Nixxy."
Great, just what Kira needed, a vengeful Raider.
She clapped her hands. "All right, let's get you out of here. I think we've done enough toasting for one night."
Raider shrugged out of Blue's grip, grabbing one of the only upright glasses and holding it up. "Not yet. There's one more toast to be done."
Kira hesitated. She had an idea of who she meant, and it was the last person she wanted to toast. "Maybe some other time. I think we've both had enough."
"No," Raider insisted. He swayed, nearly toppling over before righting himself again. "No, you toast her death. You've never done that."
Even as drunk as he was, Kira could see the resolve in his face. She wasn't going to get out of this. Not this time.
"I don't want to do this," she warned.
He grabbed one of the intact glasses that had fallen onto its side, righting it before pouring keeva into it. Finished, he shoved it into her hand.
"Prove to me she's dead." He lifted his glass in front of her.
This entire night had been leading up to this. All the drinks, the trips down memory lane, the names of their dead, all so he could maneuver her into this moment.
Her gaze met his, anger licking her insides, her control slipping.
He knew what this would cost her and didn't care as long as he got his result.
Her chin lifted, and she swiped the glass from the table, downing the contents in a single gulp.
Fuck him.
She slammed the glass down. "The Elise you knew is gone. The next time you want to toast our fallen, maybe don't do it as a power play."
The fierce light in his eyes faded, the hope she had failed to see snuffed out as loss and grief crept into his expression. Kira's stomach sank, regret curdling her insides. The impulse to offer comfort hovered on her tongue, swallowed before it could leave.
He wouldn't want her platitudes, and offering them would likely undo the necessary blow she'd struck him. The conclusion he'd drawn was dangerous and placed many lives in jeopardy. He needed to believe Elise was dead, even if it killed her to put that look in his eyes.