Free What Matters Most by Sasha L. Miller

second was a page authorizing Ailynn to withdraw funds from a bank account in Mykon set up under the same Timel Akab. Another page authorized payment of fifty gold coins to someone named Ambry Terrin.
    "What is this?" Raslin asked, even though he was sure he knew. "I thought you didn't want me to know where you were moving Ailynn."
    "I didn't, but it's necessary now," Kyros said, sitting back in his chair and accidentally kicking Raslin. "Sorry."
    "It isn't necessary now," Raslin said flatly, folding the papers back together without bothering to read through the rest of them. He shoved them back at Kyros, slapping the key down on top. "If you want me to pass them along to Ailynn's transport, I'll do that, but—"
    "I'm not leaving until she's safely on her way," Kyros said firmly, picking up the key and the papers. He refolded them neatly, then tucked the key into the folds. "If the council's men show up before my people, then I'll give myself up. That won't stop them from taking her, to ensure my cooperation, so you'll have to hide her until Jallen and Ambry can take her to Mykon."
    "No," Raslin said, frustration and anger sweeping through him again. What was wrong with Kyros? Why did he persist in throwing himself into danger? "You'll both hide—"
    "They'll burn the village down to find me," Kyros said flatly, pushing his hair out of his face with an impatient gesture. "I'm not risking that. That's if someone in the village doesn't give me up anyway. Once people hear I'm wanted for murder, someone will give me up."
    Raslin scowled. "You can make a break for it, and I'll hide Ailynn. They'll know you were here, but we can make it seem you tried to run for it with Ailynn."
    "It might not happen anyway," Kyros said, shrugging in dismissal. "I'll leave the box in your bureau. If they do a search, they'll think it's yours and the coins and ring won't raise any suspicion."
    "You're not giving yourself up," Raslin said adamantly, not letting Kyros change the subject.
    "It shouldn't be an issue. The snow is keeping everyone away," Kyros said, tucking the papers back into their slot in the box. "This is a last resort, and I don't think it will actually happen."
    "Then why plan for it?" Raslin demanded, scowling.
    "Because planning for every possibility is the only way I've managed to stay out of the council's reach this long," Kyros said tiredly. Raslin bit his lip on the suggestion that it would be easier with two of them to do the planning.
    "Right," Raslin said, watching carefully as Kyros slid the bottom compartment back into place. He stood, crossing to the chest by the fireplace. A moment's search found a spare rag, and he brought it back to the table and handed it to Kyros.
    Kyros wrapped the coins and ring in the cloth and tucked it back into the box. Clicking it shut, he gave it a shake, getting only a small thud for his trouble.
    "Thanks," Kyros said belatedly, studying the box distractedly.
    When it became clear that Kyros wasn't going to say anything else, Raslin walked away. He headed for the front door, where he'd left his boots and jacket. Maybe a day's work away from Kyros would set his head back on straight, though Raslin rather doubted it.
    "Really, Ras," Kyros said, as Raslin pulled on a boot. Raslin nearly lost his balance trying to turn around and pull on his boot at the same time, but a bit of creative hopping saved him.
    "Thank you for everything, especially looking after my mother. I know it's not something you were looking for."
    "Don't be an idiot," Raslin said, straightening up and stamping his foot to settle the boot he'd pulled on. "We've already had this conversation."
    "I know," Kyros said, smiling wryly. He slouched in his seat, and then glanced at the wall opposite him, looking distracted.
    He opened his mouth to say something else, but shut it without a word.
    Raslin waited a moment, but Kyros didn't speak up so Raslin went back to putting on his boots. He pulled on his jacket, then paused, turning