For Jeffrey it could only mean one thing; he would soon be found out, the Prince would know. Someone would recognise him, even after all these years, even in his uniform. They’d report him, and he’d be sentenced to death. His sister would get to see him one last time, getting the punishment he deserved. Maybe this would be the time the Goddess would grant him what he longed for, to be released from the prison of his life.
The thought itself was a relief, he’d waited so long for it. But his sister meeting the Prince terrified him. He would not be there to protect her, to warn her. Would the Prince be kind, or would he lay blame on her as well? He could not warn her, he’d not spoken to her in too many years. Nor could he talk to the Prince about it. Not without making matters worse.
Soon it would no longer matter. It was not the end he had imagined or prayed for. Courting danger was something he did on purpose. He’d protected people any chance he could, had saved lives where possible and at the same time, he’d thrown himself into the most dangerous situations he could find. He’d had but one goal and the Goddess had thus far denied it.
It must not have been enough yet, he’d always assumed. He’d tried to make up for his failings, suffered through much in retribution for his crimes. When it was enough, she would grant his wish, he was sure of it. It seemed the time was near now, and he felt his heart lift at the thought.
But his sister did not deserve to suffer for her brother’s actions. How could he protect her?
A rustling sound came from nearby and Jeffrey looked up. A rabbit had entered the clearing, its ears moving this way and that, its whiskers bouncing as it sniffed the air. Jeffrey had been sitting still for so long that animals dared approach. He remained motionless, observing in fascination and awe. A squirrel ran up a nearby tree. Birdsong continued to fill the air. Tickling on Jeffrey’s hands made him look down. A butterfly, bright blue, like the one that had sat between Kieron’s hands the previous day.
Memories from a different time returned. After his grandmother had passed away, his mother had been sad. He’d caught a butterfly by chance and brought it to her, hoping it would cheer her. She’d smiled at him but told him that butterflies were too precious and should never be caught. They were messengers of the Goddess. She’d made him open his hands and they’d watched the butterfly. It remained on Jeffrey’s little hand for a time, its wings flapping ever so slowly.
His mother had explained that butterfly wings were more fragile than anything else in the world, while also powerful enough to affect the course of history with a single flap. The faintest touch could hurt the butterfly, she’d said, and if it was hurt it could no longer fly, taking away its ability to aid men. Jeffrey worried then that he’d hurt the butterfly because it wasn’t flying away. But his mother explained that it stayed because it was there to deliver a message, it would only leave after its message had been received. Jeffrey had said he couldn’t hear anything and his mother had replied that it was not a message one could hear with their ears. You had to listen with every other sense.
She had taught him to listen to nature, to hear the scurrying of little feet on the forest floor, the sound of flapping wings, of the wind rustling the leaves. As a priestess, his mother had known many things and she had passed on much of her knowledge. She taught him to understand and be as one with nature. There could be no certainty with messages, but Jeffrey thought he understood, felt it as a confirmation.
The thought never occurred to him, that maybe the butterfly had come to tell him there was more to the message, that he hadn’t really received it yet. That he might even have misunderstood. He’d seen what he wanted to see and could no longer open himself to hear anything else.
A long time passed before Jeffrey stood and continued walking. The light started fading and Jeffrey left the forest. He turned back towards the villa after the sky turned a pale pink. Walking along the beach he knew himself visible from a far away and wasn’t entirely surprised to see a figure running towards him. Kieron.
“Tiras, where have you been?” Kieron asked from a few feet away, his voice demanding, rushing out in a relieved breath.
“Trian.”
Kieron bowed his head, Jeffrey’s voice demanded it.
“It’s not your job to worry.”
“Tiras, you were not yourself yesterday.”
“I am now.” Softening, Jeffrey held out a hand to Kieron and pulled him into his arms, kissing the top of his head. “I’m grateful for what you did yesterday.”
Kieron looked up at Jeffrey, smiling. “I’m glad you’re okay again.”
“Better if you make some time for me,” Jeffrey suggested, kissing along Kieron’s neck.
“Hmm, Tiras...” Kieron moaned. “For you, I’ll make whatever time you wish.”
They were lying in the sand. Kieron’s head resting on Jeffrey’s chest, his favourite way to lie. Jeffrey’s hand running through Kieron’s hair, Kieron’s fingers caressing Jeffrey’s chest.
“Tiras... there’s something I didn’t have the chance to tell you before.”
“And what’s that?”
“When you had the vision,” Kieron said, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look at Jeffrey. “I had one too.”
“About me?” Jeffrey guessed and received an affirmative nod.
“And the Prince.”
Jeffrey groaned. “Trian, you need to stop trying to get me interested in him. I told you that it’s impossible.”
“I think the Goddess disagrees, Tiras.” Kieron worried his lower lip. “I saw you with him, I saw that it’s you that will help him ascend his throne.”
“Kieron,” Jeffrey sighed and sat up.
Kieron followed, his hand on Jeffrey’s back. “Tiras, we cannot ignore messages sent by the Goddess. They are rare and important. You should heed them.”
“Did you tell the Prince?”
“No, Tiras, I would not do that. Not unless you wanted me to.”
“Good, don’t tell him, Trian.” Jeffrey did not even want to think about what Kieron’s words could mean. It didn’t matter. Let the Prince ascend his throne, let him sentence Jeffrey to death for his crimes so he could find peace in the next world.
Chapter 12
Jeffrey sat at the edge of the beach, the waves lapping at his feet when shouting drew his attention. The Prince. In a flash he jumped to his feet, running towards the sound. Protecting the Prince was still his duty. He sprinted up the path to the villa, the Prince’s cries growing louder. At the top the Prince stood, red-faced and screaming, a servant in front of him. Jeffrey didn’t even hear the words, an image flashed in his mind; the boy at the palace that had been flogged for nothing. He could not let it happen again.
He strode towards the two men, noting that some of the other nobles stood nearby, watching from afar. The servant said something, his head bowed low, his posture submissive and frightened. The Prince’s hand rose, and Jeffrey reacted on impulse.
Sea green eyes locked on sky blue as Jeffrey’s hand wrapped around a pale wrist, holding on tightly.
“You dare!” the Prince hissed, jerking his arm. Jeffrey’s hold was too tight, he could not get free.
“Hit me if you must let your anger out on someone,” Jeffrey spoke in a calm tone, releasing his hold on the Prince. “I doubt this man has done anything deserving of your wrath.”
“It’s not your place—”
“It’s my duty to protect you and if necessary, I will protect you from yourself.” Turning to look at the servant, he said, “Go, quickly.” The man did as told.
The Prince said nothing but raised his hand and struck Jeffrey square across the face. Jeffrey’s head was thrown back by the force, but he simply straightened up and stared at the Prince.
“You think you can challenge me?” the Prince hissed.
Jeffrey remained silent, his eyes still locked on the Prince.
“Well fight me then. Fight me properly.”
“Your Highness, it’s not wise for you to fight he
re. We have an audience.”
“Are you too much of a coward to accept my challenge?” The Prince took hold of Jeffrey’s tunic and stepped close, everything about him screamed danger.
Jeffrey had fought far more intimidating opponents, however, and stood his ground. “We should not be doing this, not now, not here. If you wish it, I will fight you. Let’s pick a different day.”
“You will fight me now.”
The Prince pushed Jeffrey, the force of it making him stumble backwards. Jeffrey looked around, he needed Ignacio to stop this madness. “Ignacio. Someone go find Lord Ignacio and be quick about it.”
No one moved.
Except for the Prince. He continued to push Jeffrey, who turned around and walked. They headed towards the beach, where the staves lay in the sand.
Before Jeffrey had really lifted the stave and got into a fighting stance, the Prince attacked. Jeffrey only just managed to defend. It was clear from the first strike the Prince was not fighting to practice but as though he had an enemy. Anger and frustration drove him, and he let it out through the stave.
Jeffrey did the best he could to manage the fight, trying to tire the Prince in a way that would let them finish quickly. At the same time, he was conscious that some of the nobles had followed, granting them an audience.
This fight would have to end with the Prince winning, regardless of all else.
But because of their recent fight, the Prince knew what Jeffrey was capable of. It put Jeffrey into a difficult position of fighting to the best of his abilities and yet making sure he would lose. After a while, Jeffrey realised that the Prince’s anger made his fighting style much more erratic than last time. He observed carefully and found ways to use that to his disadvantage, letting some of the Prince’s attacks land as intended.
When the Prince’s stave first connected with his shoulder he couldn’t stop the groan that escaped him. The impact reverberated through his body, his hand temporarily losing grip of the stave. The next time he got hit on the leg, he was slightly more prepared for the pain and gritted his teeth, breathing through it. The Prince never stopped or even slowed down, his attacks just kept coming.
Jeffrey saw an opening, if he angled his stave just right it would allow the Prince to counter in a way that should end this farce.
The Prince blocked Jeffrey’s attack leaving him exposed. He saw the stave out of the corner of his eye, coming in too high. He turned his head away, bracing himself for the impact.
It never came.
Instead, his ear rang with the cracking of glass or ice breaking into a thousand pieces.
When he opened his eyes, the Prince’s stave hovered less than an inch from his head, tiny translucent shards falling to the ground and disappearing. They left behind nothing but a wet patch of sand.
Their heavy breathing and the faint lap of waves against rocks filled the air. A thud as the Prince dropped his stave. Arms wrapped around Jeffrey.
“I’m sorry,” the Prince whispered.
Jeffrey stood awkwardly, they still had an audience. “I’m sorry too, my Prince.”
“What do you two think you’re doing?” Ignacio demanded when he got to the beach, Sofia following him.
As if only realising now that they were not alone, the Prince let go of Jeffrey and stepped away.
Ignacio led both Jeffrey and the Prince into the house, away from prying eyes. Inside, Jeffrey left, ignoring Ignacio’s protest. Let the two of them sort out their own problems.
He dragged himself to his room and collapsed on the bed. His shoulder throbbed, his leg hurt and most of his body ached in some form or other. If only Kieron was awake. His gentle ministrations would be just what he needed now.
A knock rapped on the door and he groaned. “I’m not available.”
“I apologise for the interruption, Jeffrey.” Sofia’s voice came through the door. “I wanted to offer my help if you need it.”
He heaved himself into a sitting position. “Come in.”
Sofia entered.
“You’re the one that brought Ignacio?” He asked, and she nodded. “Thank you, that was help enough.” He attempted to smile at her, grateful for what she had done but it didn’t come easy, his emotions still too volatile, his body too sore.
“My brothers spend a great deal of time practising with wooden swords. They hurt each other a lot and I’ve spent much time learning from our family physician. I’ve become rather proficient in aftercare. If you will allow me?” She held up a pot with a thick, white paste and some bandages.
“You carry that around with you everywhere you go?”
“No,” she chuckled. “The servants had some though.”
Jeffrey shrugged and made a gesture with his hand, calling her closer. She sat on the bed beside him.
“It’ll be easier if you take off the clothes.”
“Is that your way of getting men naked?” Jeffrey chuckled.
She grinned. “Men become more impressive when they’ve displayed their prowess. And they became easier to tame when they are hurt.”
Jeffrey stared for a moment, then started to laugh. “So, you’re here to tame?” He pulled his tunic off and discarded it.
“I don’t believe I could,” she said with a frown. Soft and gentle hands spread the white paste over his shoulder and arm. “It would appear you’re good at taming, however.”
Jeffrey looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“I never said, but daring our host to practically be a servant... I was impressed. We find ways to be more casual around him, but he’s still the Prince and I’ve as yet not seen anyone be able to treat him as anything else. Except you. You’ve given him a real dare, one that wasn’t going to be easy. And the way you stood up to him earlier. The way you fought. You treat him differently. You’re courteous but sometimes contemptuous as well. Maybe that’s just your way but to be able to treat him as casually as you do is rare. It has clearly had some effect. I see it in the way he looks at you.”
“Like a trophy to be hunted? Yes, I’ve noticed.”
“A trophy? No, not at all! You do him wrong to think that.”
“Do I really?” Jeffrey sneered.
“You think this because of his reputation? He’s known for his exploits, for sure. But the way he looks at you... I’ve known him a long time, Jeffrey. I’ve never seen him look at anyone else that way.”
“So, a bigger trophy, maybe one to be shown off a bit longer,” Jeffrey sighed.
“Has he done or said something to you to make you think this?”
“The Prince and I have a very complicated relationship.”
“I hadn’t realised,” she said with a grin. “If you cannot tell me, I understand. Our outside lives should not matter here, however. Would this not be the time to see where you two can go?”
“You’re not the first to think or suggest that. Maybe others could do it, I can’t.”
“Can you tell me why?”
Jeffrey looked at her thoughtfully, he wanted to say many things, to trust someone. But he couldn’t. In the end, he shook his head and looked away.
“Well, maybe there is nothing I can do then. I wasn’t certain if you were aware of his interest. The way you act, you seem to snub his attempts so casually, it’s hard to know whether you even see them. Now I know that you are aware, I must assume you know what you’re doing. And what your actions must be doing to him. Whatever it is, that’s going on between both of you, I hope you can sort it out. You would make quite a formidable pair.”
“Tell me what you think my actions are doing to him.”
She looked at him with surprise. “Well, when I see someone I like, and I try to flirt, and make my intentions clear, only for them to ignore me but then take someone else to bed, I don’t feel excited about it. He’s different this week, I’ve never seen him like this. Distracted and withdrawn. I know there are things going on in the empire, but I don’t think it’s the only reason for his mood.”
“Than
k you, Sofia. I appreciate what you’re trying to do.” Jeffrey said with sincerity, though he did not think he would be changing anything.
“I’m grateful for what you did with Tacitus. I underestimated him and wouldn’t have realised without your help. He’s... I like him.” She smiled and lowered her gaze.
“You look good together. I hope things work out the way you want.”
“So do you, with the Prince. I also hope things work out between the two of you.”
Jeffrey remained quiet, staring out the window absently.
“I think it’s time I headed back. Hopefully the cream will help ease some of the aching.” She stood and headed to the door, where she paused. “Try to give him a chance if you can.”
Jeffrey turned to look at her and gave a smile. “Thank you, Sofia.”
She nodded and left. Jeffrey remained sitting, lost in thought.
If the vision were true, and he had no doubt of this, then he would not remain in this world for long. Being with the Prince, while certainly pleasant, would only do more harm. And Jeffrey knew well, he didn’t deserve the happiness it would give. He’d learned that lesson with Aidan.
***
Jeffrey spent a lot of time in his life fighting. Suffering injuries was nothing new and what he had received at the Prince’s hands was not nearly as bad as it could have been. There were no broken bones, a surprise in itself. He was bruised and sore, but fully and wholly intact. If he was stationed at a fort he’d be following his normal routines, he’d be fighting on. But he was not at a regular barrack, there wasn’t even a real battle. The Prince had proven himself a good fighter, he could do without a guard until Kieron woke. Jeffrey was not in a state of mind for facing the Prince again or any of the other nobles.
He spent a long time lying in bed not moving. His sore body appreciated that. His restless mind made him move in the end. The room had a balcony and Jeffrey opened the door leading out to it. There were a small table and two deck chairs, he took a seat.
Ties of Destiny (Curse of the Crown Book 1) Page 19