by Megan Derr
Did Jader really mean all of that? How could the man be so smart, so sweet and earnest, and so infuriatingly stupid? Was he truly unaware he sounded like they were courting? They were lovers, not planning to marry.
Not that they could anyway. Pantheon, he had a lot of nerve getting frustrated with Jader for holding back information—and then being so cavalier about it—when he was withholding two rather vital bits himself. Well, only one really mattered. He doubted Jader particularly cared whether or not they were allowed to marry.
Even if the fool sounded like a man who acted like they were far more serious than they were. Kamir wanted to kiss him or throttle him, or maybe both.
He forced himself back to work, but wasn't remotely sorry when footsteps interrupted him a short time later. "Good afternoon, Sergeant. I'm surprised I'm only seeing you now."
"Your house is impressively secure, all things considered. I'd be happier with an additional guard at that gate, but I'll save another argument for a different day." He winked his good eye. "I was ordered to let you work in peace, but now the mistresses of the house have bid me fetch you to the kitchen."
Kamir laughed. "Oh? How unusual, Liana usually prefers we stay out of her way when she's in the kitchen." He would be truly sad when Bremm and Liana finally found somewhere of their own to live; they had fit into the household seamlessly.
The scent of honey, cinnamon, and roasted nuts reached him well before they got to the kitchen, and Kamir's stomach rumbled in a way that for once was not ominous. As he stepped into the kitchen he was met with a work table laden with food, including many of his favorite sweets—and two very determined looking women. "What in the Pantheon is all this?"
"We thought a celebration of your new home was in order," Velina said.
"Our new home."
Velina scoffed. "Yours. You saved the money, you paid for everything that fills it, your name is on the deed, you did all the work, no matter how much you like to dismiss your own efforts. You've come a very long way from the boy who barely knew a thing about running a household or keeping a home. I think it's long past time you celebrated. A pity you can't have the punch I made, but I'm more than happy to drink your share."
Laughing, Liana said, "I made samples of many different things. Try it all and tell me what cooperates, and I'll put a menu together. The end of the week, I think? Before you head off to Kyrmine."
Kamir opened his mouth to argue that such a fuss wasn't necessary, but Velina, Liana, and Charlaine gave him looks and tricked a smile onto his face. "Can I try the baklava first?"
Beaming with approval, Liana slid the platter containing half a dozen tiny pieces of baklava across the table. Kamir meant to eat just one or two, but by the time he managed to make himself stop, four of them were gone.
"Finish them!" Velina said.
"No," Kamir replied with a laugh. "Look at all the other food you're expecting me to try!"
"But that seems to be all right for your stomach?" Liana asked, and looked more pleased than ever when Kamir nodded. She pushed more platters toward him and ordered Charlaine to work as well. The two of them were bickering congenially over how spicy her fish should be when the gate bell sounded.
Charlaine frowned. "Were any of you expecting someone?"
All three shook their heads.
"I'll go see who it is, then. Stay here, both of you." He slipped away, and Kamir finished eating the last bits of goat meat and rice from the biryani Liana had made and chased it with a sip of tea.
Before he could further commend Velina's cooking, however, Charlaine returned with a bemused look on his face. "His Royal Highness Prince Chass has come to see you."
Kamir choked and sputtered on his tea. "What."
"So you're not acquainted?"
"No, why in the world would Prince Chass associate with me?" And it was more than a little peculiar that Charlaine said 'prince', when even Kamir knew that Chass was almost never out of uniform and preferred to be addressed as 'captain'. It was a longstanding tradition in Harken that while on duty all soldiers, no matter their civilian standing, were addressed as and treated according to their military rank. Even Lord Lesto, way back when he'd been of lower rank, was treated according to that rank rather than as a duke—well, theoretically, but everyone treated Lesto like they wanted to keep living, above and beyond anything else.
Charlaine's mouth flattened. "I cannot begin to imagine why he would come to call. I'll send him—"
"No," Kamir said. "I'll see him. Where did you put him?"
"He insisted on remaining in the courtyard," Charlaine said.
Kamir slipped off the stool he'd taken, tidied his hair and clothes, and headed off before Velina or Charlaine could try to stop him.
His steps faltered slightly as he saw Chass, who was most definitely not in uniform and was far more beautiful than Kamir had ever realized. In his blood red tunic and spiked armor, Chass never looked anything less than intimidating and usually closer to frightening.
Right then, in clothes that were of the latest fashion in subdued, smoky jewel tones, a single sapphire teardrop in one ear the way merchants and other perpetual travelers wore them, he very much looked like a prince—and related to the High Consort, with the unmistakable gold-toned skin, bright blond hair and sky blue eyes.
"Good day, Your Highness. I'm honored you would come all the way out here to visit me, especially as I've never had the pleasure of your…" Kamir stopped as Chass turned and met his gaze, "um, company." He dipped into a belated bow, heart thudding, aching, in his chest.
If there was one thing he had become good at spotting over the years, it was others like him who had been abused. They always recognized one another. From a distance, so far above Kamir he could never have imagined this encounter in his wildest dreams, Chass had seemed as terrible as rumor and fierce appearance said.
Up close, his eyes reminded Kamir of what he saw in the mirror, of others like him, when they'd crossed paths as he slowly made his way to Harkenesten. He'd had to work odd jobs and stay in houses that were part of a slowly-growing system to look after people like him that had been started by the late High Consort Nyle and continued by the High King. Houses filled with other victims of abuse, rape, and sometimes soldiers who hadn't recovered well from war, or those too sick or disabled to go elsewhere.
No one had ever said Chass had suffered abuse. Up close, he didn't look like a terrifying monster. He looked like a man who never removed all of his armor.
Chass smiled wryly. "I hope my unexpected visit is not putting you out, my lord."
"Not at all, Your Highness," Kamir said softly. "Would you like to come inside?"
"No, but thank you. I won't be staying long. I…" He hesitated, then drew himself up slightly, setting his shoulders and chin. "I wanted to say that I know how you feel, and I thought you might like to know you are not alone. Regarding the imperial decree, I mean."
Surprise and humiliation rippled through Kamir. "Oh? I—that is comforting, Highness, though I'm sorry you're acquainted with the feeling."
Chass grimaced. "I don't need to tell you what you've clearly intuited—"
"You don't need to tell me anything, Highness."
Nodding, Chass said, "No, but my priest has said many times that talking more about… things… will help me finally bury them, which I apparently have not done. I don't know that I agree with him, but I promised to try." He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I would have approached you some time ago, if only to say you're not alone, but I have rightfully earned my ugly reputation and you did not need the grief that would come from being associated with me. We both of us have suffered, my lord, but I do not have your strength and kindness. Instead of overcoming what was done to me, I became what was done to me—and then became much worse. I have been trying to atone for my past, but… At any rate, my mother rightfully punished me, and part of that punishment was ordering I divorce my wife and forbidding me from both remarrying and ever bearing children. S
o I do know, viscerally, how that feels." He smiled, a wan, pale, tired thing. "On a more positive note, I have every faith your decree will be rescinded in due course. You are far too favored by the High Throne and, more importantly, the High Commander, for it to remain in place. But in your place, I would not believe that, so I wanted you to know you're not alone."
Kamir swallowed and wiped away the tears that had escaped. "T-thank you, Highness. That means a lot. You're very kind to come so far to offer such reassurances to a stranger."
"Those who are united in pain will never entirely be strangers," Chass quoted quietly. "I will leave you to your day now, my lord—"
"Kamir, please. I wouldn't have you be so formal, Highness."
Chass's smile then was still faint, but truer. "As you wish, and please, Chass is fine. I've never cared about formality save where it keeps soldiers in line. Now I had best be on my way before your little Fathoms Dense guard dog goes for my throat." His mouth twitched.
Kamir choked on a laugh. "Fathoms Dense?" He looked over his shoulder and saw Charlaine looming in the doorway. Turning back to Chass, he said, "I don't think Sergeant Astor would be very amused if you called him that where he could hear."
Chass's brows shot up. "I see. Never fear, the sergeant is used to me and mine." Clearing his throat, he called out, "Who was dumb enough to put you on protection detail, Fathoms Dense? You're only good for standing around hallways looking pretty."
"At least I'm pretty, Penance Menace."
Kamir lifted his eyes to the sky, but his lips twitched up into a grin. "I see."
Chass shared the smile, then bowed his head. "Have a good evening. If you should need anything, let me know and it will be done. Be well."
"Be well and goodnight," Kamir said as he watched Chass leave and locked the gate once he was out of sight.
He turned—and nearly jumped out of his skin to see Charlaine only a couple of paces away. "Charlaine!"
"Sorry," Charlaine said, scowling. "Why are you crying? What did—"
"Nothing. His Highness was nothing but kind."
Charlaine gave him a funny look. "That was Prince Chass, right? Captain Chass? Of Penance Gate? Kind is not a word he knows."
"Then I would hazard you don't know him very well," Kamir said firmly, even angrily, remembering that tired, haunted look in the depths of Chass's eyes. "He had no reason to come out here to see me, but he did anyway, simply to share a few kind words. I understand he is not liked, but please, I do not want to hear any more untoward things about him in my house."
"As you wish, my lord, of course," Charlaine said with a smile. "You're right in that I do not know him well. Those with sense largely stay out of his way, and those crazy enough to follow him learn quickly to obey."
"You make it sound like they don't do so by choice."
Charlaine laughed. "Apologies, no. Whatever Chass is or isn't, Penance Gate is fiercely, I daresay dangerously, loyal to him. Not that I can speak—Fathoms Deep would do anything Lord Lesto asked of us."
Kamir nodded. "I know you report to Their Majesties, Sergeant, but I'd be grateful if you'd not mention His Highness to them."
"Why is that?" Charlaine asked. "You won't get in trouble for speaking with Prince Chass, especially since he appeared uninvited."
"My fear is that he would get in trouble. He did me a kindness, and I won't repay it by seeing him hurt. Please?"
Charlaine hesitated, then finally nodded. "As you wish, my lord. I don't really do all that much reporting, you know. My job is to protect you and ensure your happiness and well-being. I'm no nefarious spy. Their Majesties want to know you're well, especially in the aftermath of the High King's… rash decision making."
Kamir sincerely doubted that, but it wasn't worth arguing about. "Thank you, Sergeant, I really do appreciate everything you have done and continue to do."
"It's my honor, my lord. Now, you have to come tell Velina she has lost her mind, and if she makes her dratted shellfish curry as spicy as she is planning, nobody will be able to eat it."
Kamir snickered as he fell into step alongside Charlaine as they returned to the kitchen. "I like her spicy curry."
"There's no hope for any of you!" Charlaine threw up his hands and heaved a sigh, making Kamir laugh even harder.
Chapter Fourteen
Jader never thought he'd be grateful to spend all day in the snow, but he was so desperate to leave Wessel's house and the other trapped guests that he would have cheerfully walked through a volcano to get away from them.
It had taken an entire day for the guests to clear out, and he and the others—including Wessel—were grateful to have a brief, quiet dinner before going off to their separate rooms for some well-earned solitude. And in the morning they were headed into the nearby town to do some shopping and get away from the house for a bit.
Sequestered in his own room with a carafe of wine and some sweets the cook was constantly thrusting at him with an insistence he needed fattening, Jader finally opened the letter that had come that afternoon.
Dear Jader,
I'm afraid you've created a pair of monsters now. I read your story to the children and now they expect them every night at bed. Chara especially liked the tale of a girl who was quieter than everyone around her, as he is often teased for precisely that. I do not know if that was one of your intentions with choosing that particular tale, but I am grateful.
However, I hope you are quite prepared to keep sending stories now, lest I pack the children in a crate and send them to you so that you might fully suffer the consequences of your actions.
Jader grinned. He wasn't certain what he loved more: the children liking his stories that much, or Kamir being so playful and teasing.
Speaking of actions and consequences and the like, you're sweet and smart to ask after me so. If you lack maturity, I've not noticed it. Please be assured on that point, and I promise I will do my best to convey if you ever step wrong. The consideration is appreciated. I am sorry you are the focus of so much unpleasant attention, especially as you've done nothing wrong. I never understood why so many here in Harken deride Islander practices when I can rattle off fifty people without effort who are in some sort of threesome arrangement despite the fact they've already had children. And I am not given to court rumors, but before I moved into the city, there was quite the story circulating of the arrangement that Lord Fehard, Lord Assamanti, Lady Bedar, and Lord Keshtama enjoy and given what I know of them, I am inclined to believe it. Though I also wish I did not know that much about them. Some images, one just doesn't need in their head.
That time, Jader stopped reading because he was laughing too hard to continue. He wasn't acquainted with Fehard or Keshtama, but Assamanti and Bedar were military, and Jader had definitely walked in on them not once, but twice, in the army's general supply room. He'd made it very clear there'd better not be a third time, but he was fairly certain getting caught was most of the thrill for them. Mother Ocean knew what they got up to when two more were involved.
And it was heartening to hear Kamir say what he always thought: that Mainlanders were a bunch of damned hypocrites, and he would bet good money Bentans were too.
I hope by the time you receive this that you are no longer under house arrest. The more you talk about snow, the more I think I would detest it. At least there is good wine and, now the other guests are gone, relatively good company?
Speaking of being away from home, I am traveling to your estate in the next few days to assist with the hiring of new staff, specifically a new head chef and a new stable master, along with a few general staff for cleaning. There is discussion of reviving a few of the trades in the nearby village that were shut down by your predecessor. The estate has the funds to help them get started, but that decision is outside my boundaries. I can forward the proposals if you like, or we can push the matter off until next year, though I caution you may lose promising revenue from those who cannot afford to wait and must go elsewhere. Let me know what you'
d like done and I will take care of it.
Otherwise, I'm afraid there is not much I have to relay. Life has been relatively quiet, which is a mercy. You are sorely missed by many. I do hope your time in Benta improves.
Your truly,
Kamir
P.S. Waiting until the postscript to tell me of dire things, and to only mention them offhandedly, is not a nice thing to do. I have been worried sick. Please do not come to harm, and do not make light of any danger you face. I would rather hear of it from you than from another source, or worse, not at all. Please, please be careful.
Jader winced. So much for that. He'd hoped it would make Kamir worry less, not more.
Well, his next letter would definitely begin with an apology.
The clock chimed, reminding him of the late hour and triggering a jaw-cracking yawn. Well, that was that. Bed for now, and tomorrow he'd finally do something other than wander around Wessel's house.
Stripping off his robe and stoking the fire, Jader climbed into bed, set the letter on the side table, and snuffed the lamp, and settled beneath the warm blankets to sleep.
*~*~*
Thankfully, the weather had stayed calm through the night and they were able to head into the nearby town as planned—save for Cherrell, who insisted on going on ahead with the soldiers to ensure the way was clear and safe. It wasn't as nice as the city another two days' journey, but passable, he was told. He wouldn't have cared if it was a port hovel. It wasn't being stuck in the same house for days on end.
Wessel sat beside him, and across from them sat Kristina and Seredia. Tsarana rode alongside the carriage with four of his soldiers and Jader's secretaries. Content to let the others converse, Jader pulled out his latest letter from Kamir to reread.