The Golden Heart: Alliance Book One (Alliance Series 1)

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The Golden Heart: Alliance Book One (Alliance Series 1) Page 9

by Jessamyne Hunter


  “So…Why did you ask?” Sartak suddenly appeared next to him and sat down on the mattress.

  This time when Kellan sighed, it sounded desperate and tired. Maybe he should better tell his husband about his morbid possessions better sooner than later.

  “Show me these rooms of mine,” he muttered and didn’t even bother changing clothes.

  At the door, he waited for Sartak, Dershra chirping happily on his shoulder.

  Sartak led him back to the private waiting room. It had twelve sand-colored pillars and sunken water basins around the walls and in the middle. Red cushioned ottomans and low tables were arranged around the big basin in the room. Palms in pots were placed next to the ottomans while potted vines and blooming bushes were spread across the chamber. Every coffee table had little candles and statues sitting on top. There were also round bar tables at the walls that had filled fruit bowls and wine carafes.

  Across from the arch where they were standing right now, was the big wooden double door leading into the hallways of the royal family’s quarters. Kellan saw two guards waiting there, motionless and grim.

  Behind Sartak and Kellan was the short hallway to their bedroom. The black, carved door looked so old and regal; no one could mistake it for anything less than a royal bedroom.

  Stepping into the waiting room, on their right side was another arch with gauzy blue curtains, which led to Sartak’s private rooms. On the left were the purple curtains, marking Kellan’s own rooms. There they were heading right now.

  Sartak opened the curtains with a flourish and they entered a slightly smaller room than the waiting room. The left side opened up into a roofed porch with chairs and a table carved from wood with little brass details and figurines blended into the carvings.

  “We have a small private garden around our bedroom. That is if you have wondered about why we have balconies on both sides of the room. From the garden, we can enter our private rooms. There are stairs around the corner,” his husband explained smilingly.

  Kellan nodded and looked around. The room had two more arches on the other side. The one in the right corner had a screen blocking the sight into the room, so Kellan guessed it was the dressing room. The other room- he could see it from where he was standing- was as empty as this one…or well, this one would be empty if it wasn’t for the boxes and suitcases towering in here.

  And of course, this room had the obligatory water basins and small water channels, in which he shouldn’t put his feet or hands like he had been told by Jarvan- still it was highly tempting to do so because they were just everywhere!

  “You can do whatever you like with these rooms. Indoor pool? Just tell the servants and you’ll get it. Poisonous animals? We’ll catch them for you,” Sartak gently shoved him deeper into the room.

  An indoor pool? He thought about it. Visions of blue water came to his mind. He could swim in there whenever he wanted, or just relax when he felt like it. Would Dershra like it too? Did wyverns swim? His imagination ran wild. Water splashed in his vision; he could hear laughter as he played with Dershra.

  Quickly, he snapped out of it. An indoor pool would be quite convenient, but nothing he needed urgently, he also supposed there were much better things to do with his private quarters. But first things first; he needed to unpack at least his clothes and find a way to get rid of that very special coat.

  Gods…he felt sick!

  “If it’s a boy, can we name him Verxas?” Kellan blurted out.

  His eyes went wide when he realized what he had just said and pressed his hand over his mouth. Damn, that was definitely not what he had planned to say anytime soon. But guilt and a guilty conscience had made him speak before even thinking about it. Now there was an awkward silence and he didn’t dare to look at Sartak.

  For a moment, it seemed like he didn’t want to dignify that with an answer and Kellan feared he had upset or offended Sartak with his request.

  Still, even though he hadn’t planned to say it, he somehow wished Sartak would say he didn’t mind naming their child Verxas.

  Kellan swallowed. He hadn’t thought about Verxas in a long time now, he had almost forgotten him until he had been left on the Pra’vs-kwarana. The man had never done any harm to Kellan and he certainly didn’t deserve the ambassador’s ignorance, even less since Kellan was the royal consort to the Phy’vohranian crown prince now. He knew he should at least visit him on Voxus.

  Well…if he really wanted to show up to the tournaments, he should also plan a trip to Verxas’s home. It was Kellan’s fault that the man was in his miserable state now. Ever since Kellan had come to peace with the idea that not all Phy’vohranians were evil- they honestly had never been- he knew he should go to Verxas and tell him how sorry he was. He should tell him about how much it weighed on his conscience; about the bad dreams, and then he should somehow make it up to him. But only Kellan’s childish hatred had made him believe and cling to his hatred all these years.

  Naming his child after him would show the Phy’vohranian traveler that he really meant it. Hell, that he even had the idea of naming his child after him meant a lot- at least to Kellan. There had been no reason or a good excuse for the harm and damage he had inflicted on the poor man.

  Living with the knowledge that Verxas was now disabled thanks to Kellan, was a hard thing to swallow. Kellan was sure Verxas knew that he had been the one to do this to him, but he had never told anyone and thus still kept Kellan’s dirty secret a secret.

  The fire, the smell…it had been a horrific night. Maybe Verxas had seen it and then decided to keep quiet about Kellan being the guilty one because in the end the ambassador- then only ambassador-in-training- had done the right thing. The right thing…was it right, if it still haunted his dreams during some nights? Was it right, if the scent of smoke terrified him enough to make his mind shut down for a moment? Kellan hated the smell of smoke; the taste of it and the sight of gray smoke rising to the sky. He had eaten smoked fish once and right after he had tasted it, he had thrown up then and there.

  Everyone had looked at him and his pale face. The Xilitarian ambassador had almost wet himself, thinking that their food had poisoned him. They’d brought Kellan to the hospital; he hadn’t been able to tell them what had triggered his reaction. Kellan had only sat there; eyes glassy and feeling sick from the images running in his head.

  He couldn’t have told them. There had been no way, and there still was no way. No one knew and he preferred for it to stay that way. Still…

  As a diplomat he had immunity. No one could come up in front of him and point their finger at Kellan, but what good was his immunity when he himself wanted to confess what had happened when Verxas got hurt due to Kellan’s stupidity and a whole laboratory had exploded and burned down to the grounds?

  Fire had cornered him; it had been all around him. Kellan had tried to escape, but the flames had blocked his path. The sound of the roofs collapsing was as fresh as if it had just happened a moment ago. He wasn’t sure how he had gotten out there, but he didn’t want to think about it either. Those were memories that weren’t welcome to him. He wanted those memories gone, but they always chose the most inconvenient moments to haunt him.

  Kellan was about to get lost in those memories, but he tried hard to stay in the present. It didn’t seem like it was successful though.

  Sartak observed him, and whenever their eyes met, Kellan lowered his glance to the floor, rubbing his hands nervously while pacing up and down in the room.

  “I didn’t know you knew any Phy’vohranian names. Don’t be ashamed of it. Verxas is a good name for a strong and kind boy,” Sartak came up behind him and pulled him into his arms; ending his nervous pacing.

  . „What’s more important is…are you pregnant?”

  What? He snapped out of his thoughts.

  What had Sartak just asked him? Oh, he wanted to know whether he was pregnant or not.

  Was he? He couldn’t tell. He didn’t feel any different today- sore maybe, but that w
as due to the misunderstanding caused by his bastard of a father.

  Galaxies! Why were there so many negative things he had yet to reveal to his husband? Was he really such a bad person? It was absolutely sickening.

  When Kellan didn’t answer, Sartak placed a large hand on his stomach and buried his nose in his freshly washed hair. It was still damp from the shower he had taken this morning.

  Kellan tensed up upon the unfamiliar touch but soon relaxed. This was Sartak- a man who seemed so gentle and patient with Kellan and his stupidity. He didn’t deserve it. He had done nothing to deserve to be cared for; to be held like this. A shadow flickered over his expression and he was grateful that Sartak couldn’t see his face right now. All those thoughts, all this hate directed towards himself…his expression looked bitter. He was happy Sartak couldn’t see it; happy that his husband couldn’t look into his head.

  Dershra flew above their heads, chirping and fluttering in loops like crazy. It drew Kellan’s attention somewhere else. This little beast was a welcome distraction from his dark thought. Dershra chirped again. He seemed to be excited about the towers made of boxes.

  Sartak chuckled when Dershra dashed through a small gap between two towers.

  “Show off!” he said and shook his head smilingly.

  “He’s a bit wild, don’t you think?” leaning against his husband, they both watched the chirping acrobat having his fun.

  Kellan felt weird, sharing such intimacy with an almost stranger, but at the same time, he was soothed. For the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like he needed to do anything; nothing was expected of him, and no one shouted at him. There was no yelling at him. No one told him to stop daydreaming or to finally man-up. There was no grabbing his arm or is hair and then dragging him along or to somewhere to yell at him further. President Samuel used to drag him to the window that looked down to the gym area and then he’d force him to look at the strong soldiers lifting weights or doing other manly things. His father would drag him there by his hair like some poor dog. Kellan would say nothing, just endure it and nod and apologize. Then Samuel would go on with dragging him back to Kellan’s room, he’d grab the first book he could find and rip it apart, telling him that these things were the reason why he was such a disappointment of a man.

  But on Phy’vohran, nothing like this had happened. He’d expected something else. Not this.

  It was weird; everything was silent beside the wyvern gone nuts.

  On the governmental ship, there had always been someone who wanted to talk to him about things that were of current importance or just anything irrelevant. Whenever he had found space between his appointments, there had been other servants, soldiers, councilors or the crew members- all talking and working, doing small talk with him.

  On Voxus it had been the same. There had been his housemate of whom he didn’t want to be reminded or any other people who had constantly been chatting, laughing and partying. Looking back at those days, he couldn’t quite understand how he had survived all this messy noise and chaos.

  Ever since they had arrived on Phy’vohran, there was so much quiet and peace. It was almost too much to endure. His life had been so loud and busy. This was a complete change and it frightened him in a way he couldn’t quite understand.

  It had always been traveling, meetings, college, and festivities for him but now he could just lean back and relax. This was new to him. His college mates had always thrown loud parties, and sometimes they had even paraded around his house even though it had been entirely removed from the dormitories. Between his life on Voxus and his work as ambassador right after he had gone back to the governmental ship, Kellan hadn’t gotten much sleep or rest. He’d always been so tired and stressed out. All the smiling and being polite had drained him. It was good to have some silence at last, but it was so damn unfamiliar…it almost scared him. He expected it to crumble around him any second from now.

  Other than that, Kellan had pictured Phy’vohran to be loud and rude and savage, but all he had encountered since then had been peaceful and civilized. It didn’t fit with the picture he had in mind.

  In his imagination, Phy’vohranians had yelled all around him. They’d always been caught up in some brawl. He had imagined them to wear dirty clothes, blood stains all over them. He knew that was unfair to think of them like this, but he had only seen the captives and the Phy’vohranian soldiers. They had been covered in scratches and dirt; blood and gore. He had thought their planet was the same…dirty and rough; with buildings of a more practical nature- not these playfully ornamented palaces and colorful paintings and gems on the walls.

  Still, he was happy it had turned out a lot different from what he had thought it would be. Especially the Phy’vohranians seemed to be completely different- gentle and caring, polite and funny. He had gotten the opportunity to talk to quite a few councilors at the wedding banquet the day before. Their warm welcomes and honest smiles had been balm for his soul. He had felt like coming home. Everyone had wanted to tell him something sweet or funny. Kellan had laughed and danced…until Sartak had put a stop to it. Kellan was still unsure about that. His husband had looked so angry, but it didn’t seem like that anger had been directed towards him…

  Sartak wasn’t bossing him around or being all alpha male. He was actually a lot less domineering than human males. He was silent but not rude and demanding at all. He didn’t push Kellan around, he didn’t tell him how girly he was or that he should cut his damned hair short. There were no mean words; no words to crush whatever little self-confidence he had. No one had told him yet how useless or unimportant he was. No one gave him unmanageable task just to reprimand and punish him after he had completed them…just not exactly to their satisfaction.

  Sartak didn’t want him to do anything but make himself at home.

  “I can’t tell whether you are pregnant or not…it is too early for that, but we will know by the end of the week when you’ll bleed or not,” the prince kissed him on his head and released him from his hug.

  Kellan laughed nervously. He’d never dreamed of ever having to deal with such things as menstruation. It was disturbing, totally mind-shitting.

  “Will I turn into a beast, bitching about things with no reason at all?” he knew it was a stereotype, but too many girls had been like this when he had been on Voxus.

  He remembered all the bitching and snapping from the girl in his class. The memory made him frown.

  Sartak opened his mouth, wanting to answer, but someone cleared his throat behind them. Both turned around to greet the newcomer.

  Jarvan stood there between the curtains, his expression unreadable.

  “Your father got gloriously drunk yesterday. He and my brother were lying insensible in our bed until recently. They woke up giggling like teenage school girls, then started singing, and Harok stumbled after me and tried to smack my ass. Do something! Their behavior is insufferable,” the consorts tone tolerated no dissent, so Sartak grimaced and followed the order, leaving Kellan with an upset Jarvan behind.

  Sighing, Jarvan slouched his shoulders and came into the room. He stopped next to Kellan and looked at the towers of boxes and suitcases, only to find Dershra chewing on one of the boxes.

  Kellan squeezed his eyes at him. That little monster had been fed only an hour ago! Kellan could still picture the little mountain of meat and fruit on their table. Dershra had eaten all of it, so why was he hungry again?

  Kellan was about to chase Dershra away from the box but couldn’t do it despite wanting to. The little beast looked far too cute, and Jarvan continued talking anyway. Still, he kept an eye on the wyvern.

  “I stopped asking myself how I was able to get pregnant while my brother had been charged with looking after me and be my chaperone…he wasn’t so surprised when my pregnancy started to show. And he hadn’t been a bit angry with Leylos. I always found that suspicious. One day… One day he’ll tell me why,” he puckered his lips and shooed Dershra away when he actually started to m
unch on something that was made of blue silk.

  “Hey! You’re not eating that, are you?” Kellan rushed past Jarvan and snatched Dershra from the box, only to find out that the little guy had tried to pull the fabric through the whole.

  Holding him tightly to his chest, Kellan petted Dershra’s head in apology.

  “Oh, sweetie! You want me to wear that? Is that what you want?” he asked soothingly when he noticed the little guy was shaking in fear.

  Dershra watched him warily and then seemed to relax. The small scaled tail wrapped around Kellan’s hand and the little guy started to rub his tiny head against Kellan’s hand which drew a soft smile from him.

  When Dershra finally nodded, he sat him down on a suitcase and heaved the box from the tower.

  “Looks like I have more clothes than suitcases,” he muttered when he finally set the heavy box down.

  There had once been an occasion where he had traveled to Edea. Kellan hadn’t wanted to pack too many things, but in the end, he had stuffed and squeezed the contents of three suitcases into just one. Of course, when he had dragged that stone-heavy thing to the spaceport, nothing had happened, but as soon as he had arrived on Edean ground, it had exploded- all his clothes and stuff littering the floor. It had been a mess, and it had cost him so much time. The Edean servant the royal house had sent for him and Kellan had spent an hour crawling over the floor and collecting his stuff. Every time the poor man had picked up one of Kellan’s boxers or briefs, he had snatched it right from his hands. It hadn’t been because he was ashamed that the man had held his underwear…but he had taken one pair with tiny pink donuts printed all over them with him. And really…no one needed to see his donut-boxers that he only wore to sleep in them.

 

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