Divided

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by Rae Brooks


  They eased into another hallway and passed another set of guards, who simply nodded to them. Leif had been right about the guards here being unfamiliar with each other. Perhaps socialness was discouraged. Lavus, if his reputation was any indication, didn’t seem like he’d enjoy walking by happy guardsmen anyway. The guards here needed to be stoic and disconnected, she was sure. Once they reached the end of the next hallway, she knew she was right. The large, incredibly ornate doors before them led to the throne room. They were only posed as guards, however, and they knew that opening the door to the throne room would not be taken kindly. Fortunately, though, voices from a nearby room pulled them away.

  The door was closed, but if they stood close enough to it, Aela could make out the voices on the other side. Some of them sounded self-important enough to be Lavus’s, though she hadn’t the slightest idea what his voice sounded like. She offered Leif a questioning glance, and he shrugged his shoulders. “Father, I am simply asking… I want to know why you provoke Cathalar. If I am to rule this land, then I should understand.” The voice was earnest.

  “Asking turns into questioning far too quickly, son,” the other voice answered in a strong, angry voice. Aela was almost certain that this was Lavus.

  The other voice was frustrated, though Aela wasn’t sure how she knew that. “I… I just don’t understand. How do you intend to combat them?” he asked weakly. Oh dear, someone trying to be reasonable in Lavus’s presence. From what Aela had heard, that never ended well.

  “Do not question me!” the king demanded furiously. “You have become quite unruly lately, son. What is it that has you acting so foolish? Is this Dokak’s belated influence?” the voice was accusing, and Aela was sure that its addressee was frustrated.

  Dokak had perhaps given the young man insight into why the war was foolish, and yet Lavus refused to listen to any sort of reason. It was insane, when Aela thought about it. “Father, no. I’m just looking for an answer.”

  “You do not look for answers. I am your father, and more importantly, your king. You do not ask me for answers. I give them when I deem it necessary to give them.”

  “You can’t give me an answer! You can’t! Because the war is going to get us killed—the war is going to ruin Tel—” The other voice was abruptly cut off by a cracking sound, and Aela winced against it. She considered cracking open the door to get a glimpse of what had happened.

  As voices sounded down the hall, though, Aela was forced to back away from the door. Leif’s eyes widened and he pulled her further down the hall. After a few moments, the two people that came into view were a young lady in a white, lacy dress, and an older woman in a blue satin dress. Just as they reached the door that Aela had been standing at, it opened and one of the men stepped out.

  He was tall, and the younger woman brightened upon seeing him. Their greeting was brief, and the young man clearly intended to walk around her. She spoke, though, almost desperately. “Prince Calis.” Calis? Oh no. The boy had passed the pair of women, but he turned to look at her when she called. “Are you alright? You don’t look well, your highness.”

  The face was the very one that Aela had already seen. The young man was tall, blond, and with blue-green eyes that held almost no traces of blue at the moment. He looked frustrated, and she was sure there was a red mark on the side of his face. “I’m fine, my lady. I assure you.” Aela’s heart contorted and she closed her eyes, glancing to Leif.

  Her companion was simply watching as discreetly as he could. “You’re going?” the lady persisted. Her voice was so quivery, as if she were about to cry right in front of the young prince.

  “I am,” Calis said, without hesitation. “I wasn’t supposed to see you, was I, Miss Avyon?”

  The woman seemed a little taken aback, but then she shook her head fervently. “No, I was here to see your mother. We were going to have tea.” Her explanation seemed to be more about making him remain where he was for another moment, than having anything to do with informing him of her plans.

  “Ah,” he said, and his voice was still stiff, “well, I ought to be going, then. I do hope you have a lovely time.” His words were so fake that Aela cringed. This woman seemed genuinely interested in the prince, and he was showing none. The same prince that was stringing her brother along. Aela’s fists clenched at the thought. The bastard. Here he was, in the castle, with his fancy, black outfit, looking precisely as a prince should. He had the golden tassels, the crimson flourishes along his pants and chest, and the ceremonious sword that hung from his belt. He was a prince, and he was a liar. A Tsrali. A Tsrali was playing her brother, and to what end, she wondered?

  She would warn Taeru, even if she didn’t tell him who she was. She would return to Dark District and make her brother understand whom he was really seeing. Still, though, she remembered the way Taeru had looked at the prince—no matter how quickly she returned to him, he would be hurt by this.

  The prince started away again, and she watched him, just as the other man in the room stepped into the hallway. Lavus was broader than Calis, though just as tall. He wasn’t a huge man, but he had an imposing presence. Aela knew she didn’t like him, though that could have been Veyron’s influence. No—no she was fairly certain that she just didn’t like this man at all. “Calis,” the man said venomously, “Miss Avyon is your fiancé—surely you do not presume to walk away from her without a proper acknowledgement.”

  His words were frightening, and there was a threat in them. But Aela didn’t care—she didn’t care if this man beat Calis until he couldn’t see. Calis Tsrali was a liar. Not only was he lying about his identity, but his entire relationship with Taeru was wrong. Fiancé! The bastard was engaged, so why did he deem it necessary to bring poor Taeru into the equation? And to think, Taeru had been so smitten with Calis.

  Though, looking back on the scene, Calis had seemed just as, if not more, smitten with Taeru. How had the prince learned to act so well? Then again, all nobles were trained to lie from birth. She watched as Calis stepped forward, and with a rather awkward smile, he grabbed his fiancé’s offered hand and kissed it. “A pleasure, as always, darling,” he said lowly, and he snarled the last word. Wow, he was unhappy, Aela realized.

  Poor Miss Avyon—she seemed entirely at a loss for what to do. Calis, for his part, took his leave without so much as another glance at his father. Aela glanced at Leif, who had his eyes closed in pain.

  They needed to get back to Dark District. Immediately. Aela had a book to read far more thoroughly.

  “Charm and finesse are the beginnings of every villain.”

  -A Hero’s Peace v.i

  Chapter xxxii

  Tareth Tsrali

  The fight had been unexpected—surely, Calis had never been as submissive to Lavus as the rest of the castle, but never before had the crown prince outwardly spoken against Lavus’s feelings. Perhaps he had a point, too, Tareth thought idly. After all, it seemed that the war was a lost cause. He had never cared about that, though—Lavus could do what Lavus wanted to do, and Tareth would find a way to survive.

  His survival was really all he’d come to care about. Lavus had made certain that Tareth was irrelevant in every way, so Tareth made sure that everything was irrelevant to him, except himself. The tradeoff seemed fair, and it wasn’t as though Tareth was going to be named the king. Or perhaps he was—he thought. Watching Lavus raise his hand to Calis, and actually strike him, had been one of the most thrilling moments of Tareth’s bland life.

  Naturally, Calis hadn’t given much reaction. Tareth would have preferred if Calis had shown some sign that the blow had hurt. There wasn’t any doubt that it had, but Calis’s composure was infallible. The more important note Tareth made as the two men left the room, though—was that Calis had the gall to speak out against their father.

  Something, and Tareth wasn’t entirely sure what, had given his older brother enough motivation to do what he’d done. That sort of thing could get Calis killed, Tareth thought amusedly. Thou
gh, Calis had understood fairly quickly after the strike across his cheek that it was a lost cause. Still, now Tareth had a means to hurt his brother—if he could find whatever had given Calis that thought and exploit it. All he would have to do was push Calis far enough so that he infuriated Lavus so immensely that their father had his brother killed.

  Lavus would certainly not be above the idea of hanging his own son. The grin that twisted onto Tareth’s lips at the idea was invigorating. He’d never considered that Calis would be foolish enough to open himself up to this. Apparently he was, though, or something had made him. Tareth was willing to bet it had everything to do with how his elder brother disappeared during most suns. Where was he going, Tareth wondered? After all, none of the nobles to whom Tareth spoke had seen or heard from his brother. Calis was doing something completely uninvolved with the people with whom Lavus considered important enough to associate. Unfortunately, that didn’t leave many people with which to talk. Of course, there were people in the Shining District that Lavus didn’t like, and that Tareth would have intentionally avoided.

  Those could have been the people to persuade Calis into his foolishness. Though, there could easily have been another reason entirely for it. Tareth had no way of figuring that out, and if he was going to exploit his brother—then he would have to do so effectively. If he did so without Lavus’s permission, though, their father would no more listen to him than a peasant from Dark District.

  There was the possibility of talking to Calis, of trying to figure out through word of mouth what had caused him to react this way. No, his brother was far too smart to be tricked in that way. Tareth wasn’t a fool, and he knew his brother far too well to know that simpleton mind games would not work on him. No, Calis would require a much different approach, if there was going to be any success.

  Ask Lavus. Tell Lavus you understand the need to know what has gotten into your brother… You have his permission, and then he will listen to everything you say. At last, your father will consider you the better son.

  The thought came, unbidden, into his mind. He was sure that he hadn’t formed the thought. He had known the direction of his own thoughts, and that had not been it. The idea was sound, though—more than sound. Lavus would certainly want to keep an eye on Calis, and what better way to do it than to keep it in the family? Still, though, the strangeness of the thought, and the voice through which it had been spoken haunted him for a moment.

  He wasn’t used to enacting thoughts that hadn’t been firmly researched or meticulously considered. Well, unless he was with a woman, or a peasant from Dark District. A grin spread across his face at the thought. Still, he would speak with Lavus—he would obtain the privilege of spying for his father. That way, his words would have merit. He would be commended for going directly to their father, rather than scuttling about.

  The thought, no matter how strange it was, was exactly what he needed. Tareth had his course of action, and he intended to take it. He would go through Lavus—not Calis. Calis would never be persuaded to make a fool of himself, unless whatever had caused him to act as he had was discovered and exploited. Whatever caused his outburst must have been relevant to him—more than relevant. Tareth had a sneaking suspicion that Calis was hiding more than a few thoughts.

  The way the crown prince handled Miss Avyon had declined rapidly in the past few suns. Calis was still his charming self, to be sure, but he wasn’t quite as charming as he could have been. In moments of weakness, Tareth could see the distaste in the inexpressive green eyes of his brother. He had seen that Calis was not happy. Then, there was the fact that when he wasn’t in Miss Avyon’s presence, Calis truly did seem happy. Tareth had originally thought that Calis was simply being obtuse, pretending not to be interested in the lovely Miss Avyon, when he was secretly thrilled to be engaged to her.

  And yet since the engagement, Calis had become increasingly aloof around the castle. There had been moments, when he returned from his daily activities, that Tareth could see traces of that happiness that he’d wanted to ruin. Wherever Calis was going was making him happy, and that happiness was keeping him from being as perfect as he had been for so long. Tareth knew that—and Tareth would have to find a way to seize that happiness and turn it into weakness.

  Surely that couldn’t be so difficult. After all, Lavus had always spoken about emotions being the precursor to any strong man’s downfall. And now, emotions were the very thing that Calis seemed to be portraying so readily. For so long, Tareth had watched his brother from afar—unsure what the prince was thinking or seeing—and lately, there had been expressions on his face. There had been light in his eyes that showed just a tiny glimpse into his thoughts.

  So what had put the light there?

  Perhaps Lavus was wondering the same thing, and if he wasn’t, then Tareth would look all the wiser for informing him of it. The grin remained on Tareth’s face as he exited the meeting room, heading for the throne room where his father would surely have gone. Calis was gone, and the hallway was deserted. Tareth wasn’t sure to where Lady Avyon had vanished, but he did hope that his brother wasn’t with her. The more time the two of them were apart, the stronger Tareth’s case was.

  Oh, the satisfaction of seeing his perfect, older brother hanged pounded against his mind like an unending drum. He hadn’t ever even considered it possible, and yet now he was staring the opportunity in the face. Whatever this weakness, be it good or bad for the kingdom, Tareth would turn it into such a festering wound that the only solution would be to end his poor brother’s life.

  As he entered the throne room, the cold eyes of his father instantly sobered him. Once again, his fear set in and he found himself struggling for words. But he had to act now, lest his father put someone else on the assignment. “Father,” he said, with a very low bow. The more respectful he was now, the easier it would be to see the contrast between himself and his unruly older brother. This was the moment he’d dreamed of his entire life, and he wasn’t going to let fear ruin it.

  Oh, what would Claudia say? No, he couldn’t tell her. Though, she had always wanted to kill Lavus—she had never spoken ill of her other son. She would surely be distraught that Tareth wanted to see his brother hanged. So, she must be left out of this equation for now, until the weakness could be shown to her, and to everyone, as a disease. “What is it, brat?” his father’s voice boomed through the room.

  He worked to ignore the insult. Insulted before he’d even truly spoken, but he would change that. He would become the good son. He would become the king. For, after Calis was out of the picture, then he would focus his attentions on destroying his paranoid father. “I wanted, perhaps, to make a suggestion to your majesty.”

  His father stared at him. The eyes were so cruel, so calculating, as they observed him. The eyes were more like those of an Inquisitor, not of a father. Lavus had never been much of a father to anyone, except possibly Calis. Even then, the fatherliness had been lacking. It had always been a political relationship, where Lavus let Calis know he was pleased. Well, Tareth intended to take that relationship for his own. “Speak, before I throw you out of my throne room, you sniveling child.”

  Clenching his fists against the abuse, Tareth offered a brief nod. “Seeing how Calis has been so recently indisposed, I was hoping,” he conveyed ‘hoping’ with the utmost sincerity, “that you might allow me to investigate what he has been doing. It seems to be having ill effects on him, my lord, and I think you can agree.”

  With every word, Tareth’s confidence grew. And with every word, Lavus seemed more interested in what Tareth was saying. “You? Investigate your brother? He’d find you out in an instant, you foolish varlot.”

  Tareth’s eye twitched, but he kept the cool charm on his face when he continued. “Ordinarily, certainly, father, but I propose that Calis has been vexed by something. I propose that he is not himself, and thus I ought to pursue the matter.”

  “Vexed by what?” Lavus asked flatly. His eyes were sparking with s
uspicion, which meant that Tareth had hit the mark. Lavus thought just as well as anyone else that Calis was being affected negatively by whatever he had been doing recently.

  A quick breath, and Tareth cleared his throat to continue with more force. “I’m unsure, my lord. Surely, you realize that he has spent more and more time away from the castle, with people that surely have been negatively influencing him. I propose that you allow me to pursue the issue, determine what has caused his current effrontery, and eradicate it. Surely he will see it as a favor,” Tareth purred.

  And when he doesn’t, you will be too angry not to sentence him to death.

  Lavus drummed his fingers along the black mantle of his throne. His eyes were dancing with consideration, which Tareth had never seen them do to one of his own requests. This was working already. “That is actually a good idea, son. Perhaps you are finally beginning to come into your own. Far too late, mind you, but that doesn’t mean that we should disregard developing intelligence. I will be most pleased if you are able to complete the task without incident.” His words lacked their usual hatefulness. Tareth worked to keep the smirk from spreading over his face too early.

  Instead, he bowed another low bow, putting as much humbleness into his countenance as he could possibly bear. Knowing Lavus, he surely wanted more, but Tareth could only be pushed so far in his efforts. He still believed, after all, that he was superior to his father. Or would be, at the end of all this. “I am honored by your approval, Father. I will ensure that his insurrection is met with the utmost efficiency.”

  “See that you do. Tell no one of this,” Lavus said sharply, “you are to carry out this task on your own and without assistance. Report only to me, and if I find that you have disclosed this to anyone, or allowed anyone to find out, then I promise swift and effective punishment.”

 

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