Jeffrey stayed quiet, giving Kieron the space he needed to say whatever was on his mind. He recalled the conversation he’d had with the Prince, asking him what he knew of Kieron, telling him to apologise, to talk to him.
“I’ve never truly spoken to him before. He’s given me orders, I’ve acknowledged them, we’ve said hellos. But we never had a real conversation before. He is... He’s so nice.”
Jeffrey drew a long breath and let it out slowly.
“He apologised for when he hit me a few days ago. For the way he behaves so often. He tried to explain it. He also asked me about home, when I’d last seen my family. He was really kind and understanding. He asked about the legion, the other soldiers, my culture. He told me some of his plans for when he is King. I hope he ascends soon.”
“Everyone does,” Jeffrey whispered.
“He spoke of you, asked about you too. He really does like you, Tiras.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“He didn’t need to. His eyes, he couldn’t hide it. What you said before… I wouldn’t question it, but I don’t think the same rules apply to the Prince. His destiny could not be corrupted so easily. You should give him a chance.”
“Kieron, please. I cannot be with him. Someone would...” Jeffrey broke off. “It’s impossible.”
“You shouldn’t care what other’s think.”
“I don’t. I care about justifying my actions to myself and the Goddess.”
“Have you asked her?”
Jeffrey snorted. “You think she has nothing better to do than answer questions on who will make a suitable match for me?”
“I think she cares about our happiness. And that includes love.”
“And have you asked her?”
“Maybe I have. Maybe she gave me an answer too. And maybe it’s an answer I will not share with anyone else.” Kieron looked up. “You have your reasons, but if you don’t take risks sometimes... you might regret this. He needs someone like you beside him, someone that doesn’t bow to his title. You’re so at ease around him. I’ve never seen the like.”
“He’s a man like any other,” Jeffrey shrugged.
“But he isn’t really. He’s the Prince, our next King. He was chosen by the Goddess.”
“Was he?”
Kieron frowned. “What’s the last time you went to a temple or prayed?”
The memory was painfully clear for Jeffrey. It was after Aidan’s death. He wouldn’t say that, so he shrugged.
“Do you typically pray to Gaia or Tempesta?”
“Depends on the battle and where it’ll be fought. Mostly Gaia.” It wasn’t strictly true, he’d spent months praying to Tempesta after Aidan’s death but for that exact reason, he didn’t mention her now.
“Then we can stay here. You can pray to her from anywhere.” Jeffrey frowned but Kieron ignored it. He shuffled backwards, sitting across from Jeffrey, their knees touching. He took Jeffrey’s hands and sank them deep into the sand, his own hands half-covering Jeffrey’s, half sunk into sand as well. “Close your eyes.”
“Kieron,”
“Please, Tiras. Trust me.”
Jeffrey sighed but closed his eyes as bidden. A brief silence, then a sound like a birdsong. It began quiet and low but became brighter, the sound strange and yet familiar as well. It took Jeffrey a few seconds to understand that Kieron was signing in his own language, a silvery sound, so different from the gruff tones he spoke with.
He peered at Kieron with one eye and saw him with his eyes closed, his face relaxed and happy. Closing his eye again, Jeffrey relaxed as well. He breathed deeply, letting the air out slowly. He remembered the words of a priestess, to open himself up to the Goddess, to invite her in.
For a long time, Jeffrey listened to Kieron’s voice, singing words that had no meaning for Jeffrey but were full of emotions. A tingling started in his hands and slowly spread through the rest of him. He saw a woman, with long blonde hair, she looked to be in her early twenties, a number of years younger than Jeffrey. He recognised sea-green eyes, a little button nose, thin pink lips. His mother face, but years younger. Could it be his sister, grown older since he’d last seen her?
She wore a black stola with a black and gold trimmed palla, the typical fashion of the south, where they were raised, except the double black was not everyday wear. Her blonde hair fell down over one shoulder in little curls, a small tiara sat on the crown of her head. She walked with the same grace that permeated every one of their mother’s movements.
Jeffrey watched her walking along a hallway. When he saw her back, he noted the gold stitching on her palla, forming the shape of a panther poised to pounce, teeth and claws bared. He saw who she was walking towards then. The Prince.
The shock that ran through Jeffrey was so violent he jerked away, falling backwards into the sand. Kieron’s song broke, his eyes ripped open, staring first at Jeffrey then at the sand between his hands. A bright blue butterfly sat there, its wings beating ever so slightly. It seemed utterly undisturbed by Jeffrey’s brash movements.
“What happened?” Kieron whispered, his gaze returning to Jeffrey.
Jeffrey couldn’t respond. Instead, he scrambled to his feet, his fists clenched so tightly they hurt. He didn’t understand what was happening. A storm of emotions raged inside him again and he could feel himself losing control. He couldn’t let Kieron see, couldn’t put him in danger.
Jeffrey bolted, taking off down the beach, away from the villa. Darkness had fallen and he could barely see anything, it didn’t matter. He had to get away.
***
He could hear his name being called. Kieron. He sounded worried. Darkness surrounded Jeffrey. What had happened? A glimmer of light. Footsteps coming closer. He reached out his hand and felt... leaves, wood, earth. He leaned against a tree. His name again. He wanted to call out, but his voice didn’t obey him. His head throbbed.
“Jeffrey?” A different voice. Hands, gentle, probing. He opened his eyes and saw two blue orbs staring at him, with worry.
“Aidan,” he whispered and reached out a trembling hand. The cheek he found was smooth where Aidan had always had some stubble. His mind couldn’t seem to focus.
“Jeffrey your hands... what did you do?”
Jeffrey looked at his hands, they were bloody and bruised. What had happened?
“Nace, Kieron, he’s here!” That voice again. It didn’t sound like Aidan, but his eyes… “What happened?”
“I’m sorry, Aidan. I should have been faster. I should have been there.”
“Jeffrey, I’m not Aidan.” A hand covered Jeffrey’s. The touch was wrong but warm and gentle, so right.
“I should have obeyed you...”
More light came then, and Jeffrey shielded his eyes. Torches, they were carrying torches.
“Tiras...”
He knew that voice. Kieron. “Trian,” he whispered. When he opened his eyes, there was a different pair of blue eyes, the blue darker, the shape a little more round, framed by copper coloured lashes.
“I’m here, Tiras, come back to me.”
Jeffrey blinked a few times, slowly his mind focused. “Kieron. What happened?”
“I was hoping you could tell me, Tiras. You just ran off. You’ve been gone hours.”
Jeffrey stared at his bloody hands. It had happened again. “Did I...?” he trailed off, noticing the Prince kneeling beside Kieron. Ignacio was there too. Both of them holding flickering torches, the only source of light. He groaned and tried to move. His head swam.
Kieron reached out, his hands steadying Jeffrey as he stood up.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay. The way you ran off, and in darkness too. I was so worried.”
“I’m sorry to have interrupted your evening, Your Highness.”
“Please don’t, Jeffrey. There’s no need to apologise. I’m as glad that you’re alright as Kieron. Can you tell us what happened? Why you panicked?”
“Panicked?�
� Jeffrey asked. It was not what he thought happened.
“My magic reacted to something. Then Kieron came to tell us you had run off in a fright. At that point, it seemed to make sense, what I sensed was panic.”
“It wasn’t panic,” Jeffrey said, once again staring at his bruised hands.
“Then what happened?” Ignacio’s voice was calm and measured.
Jeffrey looked at him. In the darkness, his dark skin made him harder to focus on, but his eyes shone with concern, even in the half-light. There had always been something calming about Ignacio’s presence, his voice, his brown eyes. The memory of the vision returned. His sister. He hadn’t seen her in years. But it was her. What did it mean? Why did he react the way he did? “I’m sorry, I can’t explain.”
“Let’s get you back to the villa and cleaned up,” Kieron said. Taking hold of one of Jeffrey’s arms, he laid it over his shoulders and half dragged Jeffrey away.
“I can walk,” Jeffrey complained.
“Maybe it’s so you won’t run away again,” Kieron joked.
“Trian,” Jeffrey said, attempting to make his voice hard when he felt drained and sore.
“No, Tiras. You’re hurt. It’s my duty to look after you.”
They walked back towards the villa in silence. Ignacio and the Prince next to Kieron, lighting the way with the torches. Jeffrey was too lost in thought to see where he was going, allowing Kieron to lead him blindly.
At the villa, Kieron brought Jeffrey to his room and proceeded to clean Jeffrey’s hands. Thankfully, the Prince and Ignacio stayed away.
“Can you not tell me what happened?” Kieron asked gently when he was done removing the blood from Jeffrey’s hands and had confirmed that it was only surface wounds, nothing serious.
“Your song, it was beautiful. What did it mean?”
“It’s a prayer of my people. We call on the Goddess to aid us, guide us, to answer questions, to help. It means many things. It might mean something else to each person singing it. It might mean something different tomorrow. Did you see something?”
Jeffrey nodded.
“She speaks to us when we call her. It’s wise to listen. Do you want to tell me what it was?”
His reaction didn't really make sense and he didn't understand it, but he knew, felt it deep inside him. The black palla, his own absence, the look on the Prince's face. “My funeral,” Jeffrey replied, his voice sounding different, not his own.
“Tiras... What we see, it might not be what we think, it might not come to pass. It might be many things, it is one possible path of many.”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“It will when the time is right.” Kieron knelt between Jeffrey’s legs, hands on his knees. “You should get some rest now, Tiras.”
“Don’t think I can sleep.”
“I think you will,” Kieron smiled and leaned in to place a feathery kiss against Jeffrey’s lips.
***
Jeffrey knocked on the door, his heart beating too fast, his stomach queasy. At the command, he entered. The door closed silently. He took a few steps into the room and dropped to one knee, his closed fist against his chest.
“Your Highness, I apologise for what happened yesterday. I’ll accept any punishment you deem appropriate.” He kept his head lowered.
Silence stretched on endlessly, Jeffrey remained motionless, suspended in an agonised wait.
“Your punishment is to tell me what happened.” A measured, calm tone. It made Jeffrey feel worse than shouting or anger would have done.
“I can’t,” Jeffrey breathed, still not looking up.
Rustling of cloth filled the room, the Prince stood and moved. Feet entered Jeffrey’s vision; bare, with perfectly manicured toes. The Prince sat, cross-legged, right in front of Jeffrey. A hand touched Jeffrey’s chin and ever so gently lifted his head until their eyes met. Blue like the sky, full of kindness and something else.
“I’ve hardly slept, Jeffrey. I’ve been worried, and my magic has been restless. Something happened, somehow my magic is linked to you and I need to understand why and how.”
“I don’t know anything about magic.” His skin tingled where the Prince touched it, pleasant but unwelcome. Something had torn him open the previous day and he was too raw to handle the Prince and his own reactions to him.
“Sit,” the Prince said gently, a hand on Jeffrey’s knee.
Reluctantly Jeffrey mirrored the Prince’s posture.
“Since the first day I saw you, I’ve felt it. You were training with the new recruits, I walked by on my way to train with the marshal. It was brief, but it was there. I saw you again the next day and it was stronger then. I’ve asked you to stand guard inside my rooms because your presence affects my magic. It makes me calmer. But when you get angry, it would change, sometimes it becomes erratic, sometimes it’s like a drum, yesterday... it almost disappeared. I knew something had happened. Anything you tell me might help explain it. Please, Jeffrey.”
Pleading blue eyes. He’d never been able to resist them. And the Prince’s hand was still on his knee, a thumb caressing absently. “We were praying. Kieron... the Clans are more connected to her, to nature. He called to her and she answered. I saw a vision. It... I cannot tell you what it was.”
“Was it about me?”
Jeffrey sighed. “No, it was about my family.” A lie, but not a lie. He couldn’t tell the truth, not in this.
“It made you upset. I’m sorry, Jeffrey. Whatever it was. If it’s something I can help with... I’m still indebted to you for saving my life.”
Jeffrey let out a breathless laugh. The notion of the Prince helping... he would not offer if he knew the truth of what Jeffrey had done. Jeffrey shook his head.
Silence stretched between them. “Having you so close...” the Prince whispered. “I feel like I’ve been resisting you for the longest time. Too long.” He took Jeffrey’s hands in his own, holding them lightly. Jeffrey lowered his head, unable to keep looking at the Prince. The Prince lifted one hand and cupped Jeffrey’s cheek, a thumb brushed over Jeffrey’s lips. “I don’t think I can resist temptation any longer.”
Their eyes locked again, and Jeffrey found himself staring wide-eyed. He wanted to say no, to move away, to object. Anything to stop what was about to happen. But his body refused to obey him. He was frozen to the spot, his heart pounding in his chest, anticipation growing within him. The Prince moved closer, stopping an inch away from Jeffrey. Still, Jeffrey could not move or even make a sound. The last inch overcome, and their lips met. Jeffrey’s eyes closed, stars exploding throughout his body. The Prince’s lips were soft, searching. It was a gentle kiss, innocent but full of meaning, of promise.
How long it lasted, Jeffrey couldn’t say. It might have been seconds or hours, it was too long and not long enough at the same time. But the Prince did pull away again, moving backwards. Jeffrey’s eyes remained closed, his hands were clutching at his own leg. He made a conscious effort to relax his body. His hands loosened their hold and his eyes opened again. The tension on the inside remained.
His gaze locked on the Prince, who smiled, his tongue licking over his lips as if to treasure the taste they found. Hands reached for Jeffrey’s again, holding them, stroking, massaging ever so gently.
“I’ve waited a long time to do that. I hope you might let me do it again?”
Jeffrey found it difficult to speak, but he gave the slightest shake of his head. “I cannot.”
“Do you not feel it?” the Prince asked, his voice holding a near desperate tone.
“Regardless, it’s impossible,” Jeffrey whispered.
“Why?” the Prince demanded in a growl.
Jeffrey recognized his own weakness in that moment, his inability to manage the Prince, to control the situation. It frustrated him but even for that, he had no energy. “My Prince, I cannot do this. I beg you to understand.”
“But I don’t understand. I need a reason, something, anything.”
J
effrey knew he could never say the truth, so he clung to the only reason he could find. “I’m a soldier, you’re a Prince. This is impossible.”
“I don’t care, Jeffrey. Your class is irrelevant to me.”
“But it isn’t to me.”
“You still manage to infuriate me,” the Prince said, sighing and running a hand through his hair.
Jeffrey shrugged. “May I be excused, Your Highness?”
“You’re trembling,” the Prince noted. Jeffrey shrugged again. “You may be excused from duty today. Stay in bed, rest.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” With cumbersome movements, Jeffrey stood and left.
He did not head towards his bedroom, instead, he headed outside. His steps led him far from the villa, far from other people. He walked along the beach, then headed into the forest, crossed through it and reached the fence surrounding the property and separating it from the outside world. An unscalable fence, with the top made up of spiked metal rods, the grating of the metal done so it could not be used as a foothold. It was not just a fence that kept people out, it would also keep people in, keep Jeffrey in.
He walked along it for a time and came across the gate through which they had entered, now closed, with no obvious mechanisms to open it. He was not truly looking to leave but it was a stark reminder, a physical representation of his life; trapped with no way out. On and on he walked, entering the forest again and listening to the sounds of the birds, signing in the trees.
A clearing appeared, and impulse made Jeffrey sit down in it. He breathed deeply, inhaling the fresh air, the smell of trees and earth. He’d sat in a forest like this before, praying to the Goddess, begging her. A sigh escaped him.
The vision had disturbed him greatly, its symbolism. The palla his sister had worn, was one Jeffrey had seen once before. On his mother, when he was only a boy, barely able to understand what was happening. His grandmother had passed away. His memories of the time were hazy, but he recalled the palla, with its distinct gold-edged panther on the back. For his sister to be wearing the same palla now... for her to be walking towards the Prince.
Ties of Destiny (Curse of the Crown Book 1) Page 18