Divided

by Rae Brooks

No, he had to handle this commitment and try and do so with a little bit of civility. As much as he did not want to, he was obliged to this woman to show her a little bit of respect. She was, after all, a lady. Oh, who was he kidding? He hadn’t respected a woman in a very long time, with the possible exception of Juliet, and his own mother, on good suns.

  Nevertheless, his meeting would be soon, and so he decided to head there. Women were always earlier than they should be, and he knew that if he could start the engagement earlier—that might give him more time to get to Dark District.

  As he entered the too-large black and red meeting room, he sighed. She was waiting at the ornate black table for him. Her dress was a bright pink, which was refreshing among the dreary black and red of the castle. Still, her dress was far too puffy near the bottom, and he knew that she must have been uncomfortable sitting. Still, her smile spoke nothing of it, and her hazel eyes lit upon seeing him. Guiltiness set in almost instantly. “Good morning, my lady,” he said, with a slight bow.

  She stood at once, curtsying to him, just as he had bowed to her. She wore a pair of white gloves, but she removed one of them and extended her hand to him. He kissed it obligingly, and he thought the smile this procured from her was much too pronounced. “How are you?” he asked.

  “Well, and yourself?”

  “I am also well,” he said politely. Though she had already been seated, he made sure to move her chair out so that her return to the sitting position would be easier. Then, he sat across from her and braced himself for what was sure to be an awkward affair. “You look lovely,” he said, trying to recall every form of useless conversation he could think of.

  After all, she did not look bad. She was certainly the most beautiful woman that he’d ever laid eyes on, though that wasn’t saying much, as he hadn’t been overly taken with any of the women that he’d met. “Thank you,” she returned softly. He took note that her hair was up on her head, but in a much more contained fashion than it had been at the ball. It looked more bearable, though her dress did not. “I was wondering—the moon of the dance, I am not sure that this is my concern, but you did not return, and I saw you walk away from your father. You looked rather upset. I… was wondering if you were alright.”

  The forwardness of her question surprised him. She was usually one to dance around an issue for many shifts before she finally said it. Now, though, her eyes were truly worried for him as she stared into his blue-green eyes with earnest. “Oh, that isn’t anything you need concern yourself with,” he answered easily.

  This didn’t appear to satisfy her, but being the mark for manners that she was, he knew she wouldn’t push it. “That is good to hear. I trust things have gotten better since then.”

  He could honestly answer this question. “Yes, they have.” Though, the interaction with you could not be counted among those things that have made it better. “I do apologize for that evening. I believe I promised you a dance that I did not give you.”

  “I understood. Things appeared very serious. I assumed that you would not return that evening.” He was impressed with her ability to discern and accept that as fact. He wondered what she’d say if he admitted to wandering into a dance for commoners and subsequently falling for one of them.

  He blinked at her a few times, and then he smiled. “I appreciate your understanding,” he said. “It was impetuous of me to leave, though, without even saying goodbye to you.” His voice was as charming as he could force it to be. Somehow, he was feeling guiltier about treating her this way, though. She seemed almost legitimately interested in him, as a person, and not just his wealth.

  She smiled. “Yes, it was, your highness, but I believe that is part of your charm.” Another unexpected statement, he thought. Perhaps someone who knew him well had coaxed her on how to act. Claudia, he thought reproachfully.

  His mother would want him to be happy just enough to find this woman and instruct her on how to treat Calis. What Claudia could not possibly account for, though, was Calis’s knowledge of how his mother worked—and that he’d found a commoner on which to shower his affections. If Lee were here, he would say that Calis was drawing assumptions that should not be drawn with so little evidence. “Impetuous is hardly charming, miss,” he said.

  “Yes, but you are, Prince Tsrali.” Her eyes glowed with attraction as she looked at him. Then, she looked away from him and bit down on her lip. What a curious habit for a woman who normally seemed so detached.

  He said nothing for a long moment. Before he could come up with anything, she spoke in his stead. “My mother expects you to propose to me soon,” she said flatly. He started at the candor of the statement. “I do not expect as much.”

  “You don’t?” he asked, without pausing to consider the formality of what he was saying. His foot moved beneath the table, as his body tried to react to the restlessness that his mind felt. Perhaps this woman knew something about him that he did not want known. Surely, she wanted the marriage.

  He swallowed as he considered what she would say to him next. This morning had already been unpredictable, and he was sure that he hadn’t been in the room for any substantial amount of time. “I don’t,” she answered. “In court, you have never shown interest in another woman, and you always appear very distracted. I suppose I haven’t accounted for the fact that you should want to please your father, and I my mother.”

  Unsure on how to proceed, he asked the question that her words had begged themselves. “So you don’t wish to marry me?” This would provide him with little excuse for not going through with the proposal, but it might give him a little bit of leverage on postponing it. Perhaps he could even say that he wanted to attempt to woo her before leaping into a marriage. That would further her loyalty, he could tell Lavus.

  Lady Avyon flushed at his question, and though she seemed able to deliver with frankness, she didn’t seem to enjoy receiving something so forward. “I… well, of course I do. What lady in all of Telandus, or any land, wouldn’t want to marry you? You are handsome, wealthy, charming, and every woman’s dream. I am simply aware that your affections do not lie in the court, nor did they lie in Dokak.”

  He stared at her. He could easily combat her statement, and say that she was mistaken. She was a woman and so many men discounted them for being mindless fools, and he could have cited that here. But he did no such thing. “And where do you think my affections lie, my lady?” he asked.

  “I do not presume to know. Perhaps you haven’t found a place for them, yet.”

  His mouth twitched at the statement. She didn’t know that he had been stealing away to Dark District, then, and had simply gathered this from Claudia’s information or her own observation. Either way, Calis found that he was more than impressed. “You speak candidly,” Calis informed her sullenly.

  She smiled. “I thought that you enjoyed this sort of thing. I know that you and your advisor often have unsuitable conversations with one another.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “You are very unorthodox, Prince Calis.”

  “So I am,” he agreed. “But I am a Tsrali, and therefore I am expected to propose to the woman who will advance my position and power in the strongest manner,” he mused aloud. She must know that if she’d established the rest of this.

  The two of them shared a moment of not entirely comfortable silence. He let out a long breath, trying to figure out how to move forward. She was obviously not in any position to release him from the unspoken vow to marry her, but she was more understanding than he’d expected her to be—which complicated things further. “This upsets you,” she told him, as if he wasn’t already aware.

  “I must ask you to filter your language, my lady. I needn’t have the entire castle with knowledge that I am unhappy with my present situation.” That much was true, and Lavus always had guards listening. That was why he was glad Lady Avyon was unaware of his outings to Dark District.

  The lady flushed at the statement, and then she lowered her head and nodded quietly. “My apologies, you
r highness.”

  “When did you reach all of these conclusions?” he asked.

  She thought for a moment, and then bit down on her lip again. “I became curious after I saw you leave the dance so abruptly.”

  “Of course,” he said.

  He really should have controlled himself at the ball, and he knew it. He should not have stormed away from his father, and though Lavus had not scolded him for it—he knew that the man had seethed over it. “I…” he mumbled warily, and then changed his voice to hold its usual authority, “I hope you are not insulted by this. You are a truly captivating young woman, and your beauty is not without immensity.” She smiled at the compliment.

  “I am not insulted, your grace.”

  “Then, perhaps we should talk about you. How have you been these last five years?”

  “There was a love so powerful, so fixed, that no hero or villain could ever fight against it.”

  -A Hero’s Peace v.ii

  Chapter xviii

  Lee Keiichi

  The inn, Lee thought, was the most established place in Dark District. As all inns did, it doubled as a tavern and a restaurant for eating. During the sun, though, it was largely deserted and allowed Lee a place to think without being interrupted by the incessant questions of Dark District citizens.

  Calis’s interest in Kilik was unexpected, at best, and horrifying, at worst. Kilik was clearly hiding things. He was hiding more than his mere need to parade around Dark District as a masked hero, saving people who could not be bothered to save themselves. Kilik himself was entirely admirable, and Lee found himself fond of the boy without much knowledge of him. Nevertheless, regardless of all that, Kilik was very clearly hiding something.

  Naturally, Kilik, like most others, had fallen for Calis rather quickly. He had been quite scrupulously forced into it. Calis Tsrali had never shown such attention that he’d shown to Kilik at the dance, and he had not disappointed in his subsequent visits. Kilik, and rightly so, was suspicious of Calis’s intentions. If only he knew how little Calis was interested in politics, he could relax and enjoy the company of the prince that he seemed to like so much.

  The two of them fit well together, when Kilik was not urgently trying to end the conversation with some poorly thought out excuse, and one that Calis could always rebut. Kilik complemented Calis, when Lee had thought that no one would be able to. He had been worried for his friend at the first mention of marriage, and the way Calis’s hair had proverbially stood on end at the thought had only added to Lee’s concern. But the concern had only extended into the fact that Calis would be mildly unhappy at the arranged marriage into which he would inevitably be forced.

  Lee had never suspected that there would be another individual to capture Calis’s affections as Kilik had, and now he was certain that Calis would never let a marriage come about while Kilik was still there to occupy his thoughts. It didn’t appear that Kilik was going anywhere, either, so that meant that there would be a power struggle in the near future, and Lee had taken his early leave of his father to ponder the inescapability.

  His fingers drummed rhythmically against the wooden table at which he sat. The tavern was mostly deserted, with a single barmaid keeping the place up. She had long since accepted that he did not need any refreshments other than the water she had already retrieved for him. The place had a wooden floor and was filled with tables of the same material. The bar was made of stone, and rows of bottled alcohol sat under and behind the counter. As it should, because this place became quite the center of activity during the moon shifts. Stairs near the back of the tavern led to a few rooms where travelers were able to rest for a moon or two. There were other inns designated to housing travelers, but Lee found that traders preferred being near the tavern where they could do more business. Only men and women who intended to stay for long periods of time stayed at the other inns in Dark District.

  Absently, his thoughts returned to Kilik, or rather, the mysterious boy who presumed to call himself Kilik and the Phantom Blade. Well, Lee supposed that the second name had not been created by the boy himself. But, Kilik hid a very deep secret, and one that he did not want others discovering—even those that were closest to him here. Lee did not think Kilik was any danger to Calis, but he did know that their feelings for one another could endanger both of them.

  He would never presume to tell Calis not to feel what he felt, for that was something he learned long ago that he could not do. In fact, he wished that Calis could let himself be with Kilik—and that this marriage business would fade away. But, with a power-hungry father like Lavus, Calis would never be left alone to do as he pleased. Then again, if Lavus wasn’t so concerned with appearance, he would have been contented to let his only competent son run off with some commoner and never threaten his power.

  Appearance was important to Lavus, though, and that meant that Calis would not be left unattended if his affections for the commoner became known. That, in turn, would put Kilik at very high risk—coupled with the fact that Tareth already wanted him beaten and hanged. Lee knew that this situation had the potential to get abysmal—it most certainly would, in fact, but he didn’t know how to stop it, and he didn’t know if stopping it was the proper thing to do.

  After all, Lee hadn’t seen Calis so spritely in a very long time. Despite the circumstances, the older Tsrali seemed happy—no, not happy precisely, as happy would imply contentedness and Calis had been absurdly disconcerted recently. But, Kilik had an effect on Calis Tsrali like none Lee had ever seen. Kilik made the prince come alive in ways that Calis had never previously done, as if a fire had been lit within him. Lee only worried that the result of this heretical romance would be unforgiving.

  “You appear to be thinking very hard about something,” a voice alerted Lee to the fact that he had allowed himself to disengage himself from his surroundings. That was not something that he liked to do. When he looked up, he saw the red-haired woman that he had danced with the moon Calis had met Kilik. Katt Manali was her name, and she was also one of his many informants in Dark District. Though, she knew him as no more than the man with whom she had danced at Dark District festival.

  He stared at her for a long moment, trying to find the best way to answer her unofficial inquiry. “I am not thinking anymore,” he told her sorrowfully. In fact, he did feel a bit unfortunate about being interrupted.

  “May I inquire as to what you were thinking about before I rudely interrupted you?” she asked, in the most impertinent manner that he thought a girl knew how to speak. He masked his distaste and smiled.

  He wasn’t going to answer her question, of course, but he didn’t like telling people no outright. It was far more fun to let them figure out that he wasn’t going to tell them on their own. “I am not the one who dictates what you can and cannot inquire about, my lady, your words are your own.”

  She frowned at him, appearing to catch on abnormally quickly that she was going to get nowhere with her questions. Her red hair was tied back, and she wore a cotton dress. She worked here part time, so perhaps she had appeared to relieve the other barmaid of her duties. “Where is your blond friend?” she asked.

  “He is attending his own affairs,” Lee answered without cryptic intent. He did not want to be bothered by anyone at this time, and she didn’t appear as though she was going to go away in the near future.

  She looked at him, or more precisely, she peered at him as if she were trying to see through his skin. He thought of informing her that no matter how hard she stared—she would not develop the ability to see his thoughts. “Who are you?” she finally asked.

  That was not a question that he had expected to come out of her mouth, especially without any sort of buildup. In fact, he had introduced himself to this girl already—and she had no reason to ask such a question. “You know who I am,” he reminded her.

  “Who are you really, though? There seems to be a lot more to you that I am missing, and I want to know if you’ll tell me or if I’m going to hav
e to figure it out for myself.”

  That sounded suspiciously like a challenge, and one that Lee didn’t know how to decline. He was not used to being provoked into conversation like this, unless the conversationalist opposite of him was Calis Tsrali. He twitched a little. “I do not intend to tell you.”

  “That makes it more fun,” she said playfully. Her tone disarmed him, and he glanced to one of the windows in the tavern. Maybe he ought to revise where he did his thinking, as this place was obviously not safe anymore. “You are a friend of Prince Calis?” she asked.

  He hoped that she didn’t expect him to be impressed with her ability to figure that much out. After all, she wasn’t his informant for the color of her hair. No, he had singled her out because she seemed to know how to acquire knowledge. Though, the fact that Kilik had managed to hide his identity as the Phantom Blade from her while spending so much time with her was a little disappointing. “Yes,” he answered dispassionately.

  “How did you meet him?”

  “How indeed,” Lee echoed her question in the most infuriating way possible, and he could see anger spark in her eyes.

  There was the feeling that he’d felt the moon that he’d danced with her. He stared into her eyes, and he could feel the stirring of something that worried him. He didn’t know how to classify it, and he’d always been meticulous about organizing his own thoughts. Perhaps Calis was not the only one being affected by the rugged charms of Dark District. Lee sighed. He certainly hoped that was not the case. Calis’s feelings were enough to deal with. “You have very intense eyes, I think,” she told him.

  The words, once again, made very little sense, and his face twisted into a sort of grimace. He would have raised an eyebrow had he not been so perturbed, and so the expression was only halfway there. “Alright,” he said reservedly.

  A few moments later, the door to the tavern opened again, and Lee felt himself start a little at who stood there. Kilik, of all people, walked in. Lee noticed the subtlest of limps, still, but then again—Kilik seemed to be the sort of person who ignored injuries regularly. When Kilik first glanced at him, there was guardedness as he looked around, but upon not seeing Calis, there was relief, and as always, disappointment.