by J. C. Owens
Raine nearly flinched. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Hredeen’s smile widened, but his stare hardened, became something fierce, like a warrior’s. “You do though, don’t you? Everyone has secrets. Even me. But perhaps your secret is that you are simply who you say you are. We shall see.” He shrugged and laughed gently. “I am certain we will be speaking again before you leave. Until then, blessings upon you.”
He rose with that eerie grace, nodded once to Raine, and then turned and sauntered away. Raine stared at those hips, that ass, with clear appreciation, before shaking his head and turning back to his work.
Well, that had been odd.
It seemed that bricks were more susceptible to earthquake damage than wood or concrete…
* * *
Zaran
“So, you wanted to know what I thought of Raine?” Hredeen lay sprawled over Zaran, head tucked under his chin, one finger tracing over his shoulder lazily.
Prince Zaran grunted, barely able to think and certainly not wishing to talk of anything important. It was like his brains had melted out his ears.
Hredeen was beyond talented. No one could argue that fact. His only true failing was that he liked to talk after sex.
Zaran had no mind after sex.
It was not a good combination, at least in Zaran’s estimation.
“I talked to him today,” Hredeen continued smoothly. “Or perhaps confronted him would be a better description.”
Zaran’s bleary thoughts ground to a halt. “What?”
Hredeen tilted his head back and kissed his chin. “Yes. I spoke to him. Long story short, I think he is the one.”
Zaran blinked. “Why are we talking again?” If there was a whine to his tone, he felt it was justified. There should be a law against talking about anything important while sex-stunned.
“Because you’re going to have to get up and go to that meeting with Naral, and you are going to make sure that Raine is on the list of twelve remaining candidates.”
It took effort, but Zaran managed to raise his hand to cover his face, blocking out the world for a precious moment.
“It’s that late?” He sounded pitiful even to his own ears.
“It’s that late.” There was absolutely no compassion or mercy evident. Hredeen rolled off him, making Zaran shiver at the chill that replaced pleasant warmth.
Reluctantly, Zaran forced himself up until he sat on the thick carpet, looking mournfully at his clothes scattered hither and yon around him. It would have been so nice to just relax with Hredeen, particularly in his own rooms. It was rare that the concubine would consent to having sex anywhere but the harem itself, for what reason Zaran could never quite discover.
Hredeen urged him to his feet, helped him dress, but he was still feeling a touch surly when all was said and done.
“What in the gods’ name makes you think that Raine could possibly be the one my brother should choose?” The young man was interesting to be sure, but there was far too much question as to his purpose.
Hredeen’s eyes narrowed. “You worry of his purpose? Do you think any of the others are any better? Each one knows nothing of Taldan. Each one hopes for power. Raine is no worse than any of them.”
Not for the first time, Zaran wondered if Hredeen was a bit of a mind reader. The pure empathy that the other man displayed so easily could certainly lead one to believe it. That empathy was part of the reason that he was so desired, so attractive to so many.
When he had come into their lives eight years ago, chosen by Taldan for the imperial harem, they could never have predicted the impact he would have upon them all. Zaran personally believed that he had brought all of them to a better mindset, a more balanced way of dealing with things and coping with their own warped emotional upbringing. Somehow, even his brother let down the emotionless mask of cold logic when he was with Hredeen.
“Do you believe in my intuition or not?” Hredeen was known for his calm demeanor, but he was full of snark if you got him going. Obviously he felt Zaran was being obtuse.
He could be right.
“I believe in it completely. I just have problems with this whole matter. I don’t want anyone close to my brother that we do not trust completely.”
“Raine believes that the bondmate will have nothing to do with him.” Hredeen was dressing slowly, covering miles of bare skin that Zaran could not take his eyes off, even sated as he was.
He had to struggle to focus on what Hredeen was saying. “Well, that matches what he told me. How did he come to that conclusion?”
“He’s smart. More intelligent than I think he feels comfortable revealing. I don’t think his intelligence is revered back home.” Hredeen pulled the soft, flowing shirt over his head and turned to face Zaran, his teasing expression gone, a serious note to his voice. “I believe that he will fit in best, annoy Taldan the least. He is not expecting anything out of this bonding, except perhaps for the honor of remaining here and attending college.”
“He’s that intelligent?” Zaran wondered what he and Naral were missing in their assessment of the young lord from Odenar. Perhaps their initial prejudice had blinded them to possibilities. If so, then Hredeen was infinitely more equipped to judge suitability.
“It is evident that he holds a lot back. Given his background, and judging by his brother, I can completely see why. I think he would bloom here, and his behavior and eagerness to learn could be less of a burden to Taldan. And there is something else about him… Something that has not been fully revealed.” The concubine shook his head, frowning. “Nothing evil, but I can’t shake the feeling that there is far more to the young would-be scholar.”
“There are a few candidates that Naral and I feel might be a match. For tradition’s sake, we have to choose twelve tonight, but in reality, we have only marked four as possibilities. Raine was not among them.”
“I ask you to reconsider. Add him to the twelve. If the others are simply fill-ins to make up numbers, then you should have no difficulty exchanging a name.” Hredeen leaned down to kiss him, a swift peck that gave no satisfaction at all. “Now get up and go do your duty.”
* * *
Raine
The meal was almost eerily silent. No one spoke, and tension was high, making it difficult to find an appetite. As if that were not enough, his brother’s place at the next table remained empty. Raine’s assumption that Parsul would receive a slap on the wrist because of his position was sliding into true concern.
Isnay’s whisper of “Lord Naral wishes to speak to you after the meal,” as they walked to supper now took on dark overtones.
He shivered, the last of his appetite fleeing. Parsul would be in a foul mood indeed if things had not gone in his favor. Always conscious of rank, he would be incensed at anything he considered an insult. Surely this qualified, not being allowed to attend the evening meal with the others. Certainly there were many glances at the empty spot and much whispering at the lower table where the relatives and representatives sat.
Raine finally ceased pushing his food around and put his fork down, stomach churning with nerves.
The return journey to their home would be a nightmare.
His attention diverted when Lord Naral rose to his feet, paper in hand. The tension in the hall rose.
“Here are the names of the twelve candidates who will remain. Those who are not chosen, we thank you for your time and wish you safe journey back home.”
Naral began to read out the names, his tone smooth and neutral, never indicating in any way that some might be favored more than others.
“And lastly, Lord Raine of Odenar.”
Raine’s thoughts froze. He blinked disbelievingly, his gaze jerking up to meet Naral’s cool stare. He dimly took note of the heated glares of those who had been turned away, but he was too stunned to take in the malice that was clearly displayed.
He was staying, if only for a week longer. A week. His face lit up as he considered how much he could achieve, th
e extra hours spent in the library.
A week felt like a lifetime of hope.
That thought was followed by the realization that he could no longer ignore how Parsul had been conspicuously absent since the “incident.” Raine had relished every moment that his brother had not called him to his side, but this length of time showed that something far more important than his own fears was happening. He needed to find out the truth of what had happened to his brother.
He waited until the end of the meal, watching as people swarmed around Lord Naral, demanding answers, asking questions, a loud melee. He hung back until it had quieted somewhat, then went to stand at the back of the group, waiting patiently for his turn.
At last, Naral turned to him, a grim slant to his mouth that made Raine’s heart sink. “You, I need to speak to. Come with me.”
The other candidates threw him smug looks at the man’s cold tone. Raine simply held his chin up and followed in silence and without protest.
Two guards outside the doors of the hall fell in behind them, and Raine tensed. Perhaps they were going to arrest him as well. Is that truly what had happened to Parsul? Had he been thrown into a cell for the assault? How furious he must be with Raine right now…
They entered a small side room, and Naral motioned to the guards to remain outside as he closed the door.
There was a single table and two chairs within the space, nothing else.
Lord Naral motioned to Raine to sit with an impatient wave of his hand, his expression not lightening in the least.
“Sit. I have little time for this, so I want your answers quickly and concisely. Am I clear?”
Raine nodded as he perched on the edge of the chair tentatively.
“Your brother is currently under arrest, confined to his rooms. I am somewhat surprised that you have not questioned his absence.” Naral sounded contemptuous.
“If you had been abused for years, my lord, would you miss your abuser?” Raine countered quietly.
Naral eyed him for a moment before shaking his head. “I see your point. Coming from a close-knit family, I find it hard to believe that two brothers could be so at odds.”
“Where I come from, it’s more the norm than an oddity, my lord. Those of Odenar are noted for their ambitious desires that lead to in-family fighting.”
Naral grimaced. “Remind me never to go there.” He turned a gimlet stare upon Raine. “Yet you expect me to believe that you are different than your countrymen?”
Raine shrugged helplessly. “I just know I have always stood out, been mocked for my lack of political ambition. Whether that makes me weak or perhaps just different, I don’t really know. Before my trip here, I had never encountered another culture to measure myself against. My father, and now my brother, made quite sure that I was to always be kept close to hand. They didn’t want to lose a bargaining tool.” He attempted to keep the bitterness out of the words, but it still leaked through.
“We need your testimony to charge him,” Naral said bluntly.
Raine’s thoughts ground to a panicked halt.
Testify? Against Parsul?
“No. Absolutely not.” His answer was swift, his fingers tightening on the arm of the chair until the wood creaked under the pressure.
Naral leaned over the table, his expression incredulous. “You would let his actions stand when you have the power to see him pay for what he did?”
Raine shot to his feet and met the man eye to eye.
“You have no idea what you are asking! You may have laws here that protect the innocent. Those laws do not exist with Odenar. He is the leader of the country, and you expect me to be the one to see him in prison here? There would be uprisings in the streets in my homeland! Are you prepared to deal with that?”
Raine was barely aware of the door opening, and the two guards stepping inside at his raised voice.
“Are you a coward then, to let this go, when you could see justice done?” Naral sneered.
Raine narrowed his eyes and leaned closer. “Are you a fool then, to not understand what your actions could precipitate? Your world here, your way of life, your laws, are far from Odenar, far from what my people accept and are.” He turned away, ran a weary hand through his hair, leaving it in disarray. “Such an action might bring justice to me, but I will not accept that at a cost to my people.” He spread his arms wide. “Will you arrest me for speaking plainly? For insulting you?” He crossed his wrists and held them out. “I am ready for whatever ‘justice’ that might involve, but you will not force me to take action that I know to be full of consequences.”
Naral glared at him, then slowly straightened. “You will remain here. Do not attempt to leave.”
Raine swept into a mocking bow. He could not help himself. The wildness that so often got him into trouble at home seemed to rise up and overcome all sense.
He sank down into the chair and crossed his arms, staring at Naral with implacable stubbornness. His injured ribs throbbed painfully but his expression held nothing that could be used against him.
Naral’s jaw muscle twitched, then he turned on his heel and left, guards in tow, the door closing with exquisite gentleness that was at odds with the moment.
Raine stewed in his righteousness for long moments before his mind caught up to his actions and he groaned, dropping his head into his hands and slumping forward on the table.
When would he learn to watch his words, corral his actions into something approximating sense?
The faint hope that they might let him remain in Persis for schooling had just gone up in flames, and he had lit the match.
He focused on breathing. Thinking. Going over what had just happened. He knew he was right. That much was certain. Was he a coward for not wanting his brother in chains?
Perhaps. But then those who were judging him did not have the experiences he had endured. Survival made for a different mindset altogether. There was nothing they could offer him here that would take the fear of Parsul away. At the end of the day, his brother owned him, and that was not likely to change any time soon.
Once their ship left the harbor to return home, as would happen sooner or later, he would be at his brother’s nonexistent mercy. Even if Parsul were forced to stay here in the capital city in a dungeon cell, Raine’s other brothers would be waiting back in Odenar, and they had no more mercy than Parsul himself.
It might be an ideal and wonderful world here, but it was not, nor ever would be, his.
* * *
Taldan
Naral stormed into Taldan’s laboratory, startling one of the apprentices into dropping a vial of medicine. The glass shattered into bright shards that littered the floor, the green mixture pooling over the tiles.
Taldan raised his head slowly, trying to bring his thoughts into present time, one long finger marking the place he had been writing. He did not allow annoyance to take root in him, but one glance at Naral’s face was enough. He turned to the apprentices. “Leave. We will continue later.” His tone was calm, cool, and his apprentices nodded in silence, slightly wide-eyed but obedient all the same.
No one entered the prince’s lab without express permission. Nobody.
The door closed behind the others, and Taldan swiveled on his stool to face his companion. He raised a brow in silent query, watching in silence as Naral paced the confines of the room, absentmindedly avoiding the broken glass with each pass.
Naral was hot tempered at the best of times, but it normally took a lot to get him to this level.
“I can’t do this!” Naral announced.
Taldan leaned back on one elbow, his second eyebrow rising to match the first. This was temper of a level seldom seen. What could have…?
“That…schemer…has got to go!”
Ah. The candidate from Odenar. It had to be. No one else seemed to get Naral’s blood up and his claws out like the young Lord Raine.
“Now. Now he has insulted me to my face!” Naral whirled on his heel, glaring at Taldan as thoug
h he fully blamed the imperial heir for the entire mess.
Taldan felt a faint start of surprise. The young man had not seemed to have the backbone to stand up for anything, much less insult Naral.
“If he was scheming, then insulting you does not seem a method guaranteed to produce the results he would be aiming for.” His dry tone seemed to incite Naral further, his friend throwing his arms up and pacing in a frenetic circle.
“He won’t testify against his brother.”
Taldan rose to his feet and began to file away several of the books stacked on his desk. If he was going to be interrupted, he might as well fill the time with something constructive. “Did you truly expect him to testify?”
Naral drew to an abrupt halt, outrage evident in every pore. “Damn right I did!”
“Well then, it is completely evident that you have never dealt with those who have been abused.” Taldan reached for two more books, pleased at the space it created upon his desk.
“Yes, I agree he’s a victim of abuse…”
Taldan turned on his heel to face him, holding a hand up to halt Naral’s words.
“No. I do not approve the use of the word ‘victim.’ It creates a mindset in both abuser and abused that is not at all healthy or correct. Those who have gone through such atrocities need to understand that they are strong, that there is a path past what was done to them. They must know that it is always possible for the abuser to control their actions. Always. No matter what that abuser might use as an excuse, particularly when they attempt to attach the blame to those they have harmed. Abusing is a choice.”
Naral bowed his head, looking regretful. “I apologize. I have read many of your works, I know this already. That was a foolish term to use.”
Taldan put a hand upon his shoulder, steered him across the room to where a fireplace heated the space with several comfortable chairs arranged in front of it. He nudged Naral down into one of them before going to the sideboard to pour them a glass of wine. He handed a full glass to his friend and then sank down into the comfort of his favorite chair, beautifully worn to fit his form perfectly. Shabby it might have become, but he refused to have it replaced. This place held all his comforts, and it was here that he often had his greatest insights on various matters.