“My father was Dalitian. An angel, actually, so I suppose there’s something about that aspect of my heritage I like to keep close.” Jonas paused. “These symbols are inverted.”
Aleksei blinked. “Does that mean something?”
“It makes them demonic, according to Angelic faith. I just find it rather amusing.”
Aleksei nodded, though he couldn’t be more confused. What would an Ilyari prince want with a demonic table? But then he recalled Jonas' preoccupation with other religions and their own uses of the Archanium. Perhaps this was merely some conceit the man allowed himself, though how his Angelic heritage played into it mystified Aleksei.
“Pardon me for asking, but if your father was an angel, why don’t you have wings?”
It was an innocent-enough question, but Aleksei couldn’t miss the pall that fell across Jonas. The Prince was silent for a long moment before finally answering, “I had wings, at least I was born with them. But I didn’t keep them long. Sometime remind me to show you my scars.”
Aleksei had the sharp realization that he’d strayed into dangerous territory. Gods, but was it possible to have a casual conversation with this man?
As they began to eat, Aleksei watched Jonas. The prince had impeccable manners and Aleksei did his best of emulate them. But after so much mimicry, he finally decided to break with decorum and simply speak.
“Sorry if I seem rude, but can we talk during a meal?”
Jonas laughed boisterously. Aleksei found it a most pleasing sound, even if Jonas might be making fun of him.
“Honestly, Aleksei, there’s no need to stand on such formality when we’re alone. State dinners require specific manners, rules of behavior that you will be versed in well ahead of time. But you can treat informal moments as just that.”
Aleksei felt his face flush. He hated revealing his ignorance, even though there was really no way to avoid it as he acclimated to his new life.
“So come then, what would you like to talk about?”
Aleksei sat back from his meal, taking a sip of wine to clear his throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about your ring.”
Jonas raised his eyebrows, swallowing his last bite and relaxing back into his chair. “Which ring would that be?”
Jonas had worn the same two rings every day that Aleksei had known him; an impressive emerald on his left middle finger, rich in its intensity, and brilliantly clear, like a mirror of the prince’s own eyes. Golden ram’s horns encircled the stone, a nod to the Belgi sigil echoed in pennants and livery found throughout the palace.
The second ring, gracing Jonas' right forefinger, was an unassuming affair, simple silver, dull even in the sun. Yet it was this ring that drew Aleksei’s attention far more than the emerald.
Aleksei frowned, “The one you play with constantly. On your right hand. When I started paying attention I noticed how...unusual it was.”
Jonas looked down at his right hand. At the simple silver band on his first finger. A second band wrapped around the first, stylized to resemble soft, overlapping feathers.
“It’s a symbol.” Jonas said simply. “Every Archanium Magus wears one, though the individual creates the outer band based on their personal character.”
“I’ve noticed. Ilyana’s is some sort of flower.”
“Violets.” Jonas said absently. “Beautiful, but fragile.”
“So why wear them? They obviously aren’t a mark of training.”
Jonas chuckled at the look Aleksei leveled in his direction. “Certainly not, or else I wouldn’t have one. No, these are crafted when any Magus, no matter their talent level, reaches adulthood. It’s a reminder of a different time.”
“The Dominion Wars?” Aleksei guessed.
Jonas shrugged, “What else? The Kholodym wore rings very similar to these. They were the counterparts to the chains the Magi were forced to wear. When the ancient Magi rose up against the Kholodym Dominion, they started wearing the rings from their defeated masters as a sign that they were free Magi, no longer enslaved. As time passed, the rings ceased to be prizes taken from the Kholod dead and became more symbolic.”
“And wearing one doesn’t make anyone suspicious about your actual abilities?”
Jonas shrugged, “I think it just makes people think I’m arrogant or that I’m trying to display some sort of perceived power. As you well know, I’ve never used the Archanium in public.
“Besides, I prefer people to think I’m a little bit silly, a little naive. Someone who makes easy mistakes, someone given to flights of fancy. It makes it easier to…influence others when they don’t believe you’re capable of manipulation in the first place.”
Aleksei nodded, suddenly a little more aware of the sort of man he had bonded.
“Now,” Jonas said, dabbing his mouth and resting his elbows on the table, “if you have no objection, there are some matters I’d like to discuss with you. I think I’ve discovered the reason for the unusual abilities you displayed before you became my Bonded.”
Aleksei leaned in, “Which is?”
“When a bond forms the way ours did, you gained a rare gift. But because the bond wasn’t finalized, that gift was unstable. Until you agreed to become my Bonded, I didn’t understand it myself. Your uncanny speed was a sure sign of instability, because the kind of power required for you to move across space and time that swiftly is enormous, and ultimately, unsustainable. When you consider that another Magus was bonding with you at the same time, the amount of power at your disposal was unprecedented during that preliminary period.”
Aleksei nodded, “You mentioned this the day we met.”
Jonas smiled. “But what I found more confusing were the moments when you fought back and won, when you knew the right things to say at the proper moments. Feats you should never have been capable of, moments of clarity that your life had never prepared you for.”
Aleksei shivered as he recalled that eerie shifting as it had manifested in the first days of his journey north.
“Aleksei, you are bound to time. Our connection is one that flows through the very fabric of time. I think that you were unintentionally calling on a future self to protect you when you felt threatened.”
Aleksei stared at Jonas in silence.
Jonas continued, “I didn’t say it would make the most sense, and it is only a theory. But as you agreed to be my Knight, I can only assume that you’ll receive great amounts of training in war, as well as in life.
“If you were subconsciously pulling that into the present, it wouldn’t surprise me. Any prophet can tell you how unstable the future is. Given the tenuous nature of our bond, it makes even more sense to me.”
“Well that makes one of us.”
There was still so much Aleksei didn’t understand about the power that bound him to Jonas, and the sheer volumes of history that accompanied such knowledge, yet he was wary enough to only seek a small amount at a time. He was trying to work his way through the things Jonas had told him, but he understood so little.
It will come to you with time. Jonas' voice whispered in his mind.
It will get easier.
CHAPTER 17
A Place Called Home
“I’M MISERABLE.”
Andariana watched her nephew sink into a deeply padded sofa, attempting to conjure words of comfort. None came to mind.
“Wedding preparations have been underway since you made that idiotic contract with Chancellor Perron. Surely it wouldn’t surprise you that an occasion of such importance has the entire palace in an uproar.”
“And I told you that I refused to marry Perron’s daughter. Did you think my mind had changed in the past month? Or did you think me so distracted that I wouldn’t notice everything being arranged behind my back?”
Andariana’s face colored. “You cannot shy away from your agreements, Jonas. My sister tried to do just that and it ended in a brutal civil war. If you anger Perron now, now that you have
placed him in a position of such power, the consequences could be dire.”
“Damn the consequences!” Jonas snapped. “I’m not doing it.”
Andariana considered her nephew carefully.
She recognized so much of his mother in his determination, in his dog-headed stubbornness. She had lost two sisters to that war. It pained her to think that her nephew might now be on the brink of ruining the realm she had fought so hard to rebuild.
Perhaps a change in tactics was in order.
“I’m not completely without sympathy, Jonas. I can certainly understand how much harder this must be for you, now that Captain Drago is here.”
Jonas sat up sharply, glaring at her with those fierce emerald eyes. “I beg your pardon?”
Andariana suppressed a smile. “Don’t play coy, Jonas. I’m not a child, and I can read your emotions better than you’d care to believe. I’m not sure why you thought that bonding a Knight would void your contract with Perron, but as long as you are operating in secrecy, it won’t make a whit of difference.”
Jonas eyed her cautiously, “You want me to publicly announce my abilities?”
“That will only raise more questions, which you’re not prepared to answer. But whether you’ve been trained or not, Sammul knows. He’s made enough insinuations to suggest that he thinks he might be the only one, but he’s searching for information. And now that he knows, your secret can only serve to harm you.
“Now, there are ways to approach this that are not nearly so brash, nor quite so embarrassing as simply announcing your abilities. Any public statement would only suggest that we knew what we were hiding all along, and that you made promises to Perron under false pretenses. That gains us nothing. Besides, such a tactic would be wasted on a power-hungry pig like Perron.
“Jonas, even if the entire realm were to know of Captain Drago’s association with you, you would still have to marry the girl. This is not a matter of emotions. This isn’t about love. It is purely political. I’ve told you before, she can spend her entire year in Taumon by the sea for all you’ll care. It’s a simple contract, nothing more. But your command of the Archanium, sanctioned by the Voralla or not, won’t stand in Perron’s way of marrying into the Belgi line.”
Jonas clenched his jaw. Ever since Aleksei had arrived, his anxiety had been climbing, his nerves unceasingly on edge.
“Then what are you suggesting I do, Andariana? Just marry her and then send her away? Whatever you have to say about the political implications of such an arranged marriage, there are still expectations. Expectations I have no interest in meeting. I can’t just send her away to live as a spinster by the sea with her handmaids.”
Andariana sighed, “There are other means, Nephew. Believe me, women of noble standing and peasant birth both have been employing them since time began to escape an unsuitable match.
“We simply have to find a way to turn the tables on Perron. But it will take time, and delicacy, if we’re to achieve such a thing without sending the entire realm into chaos. I’m not saying it cannot be done, only that you might have to meet some less…pleasant expectations of a bridegroom before we’re able to put an end to this sordid mess.”
He glared at her, rising and walking to the door. “I was hoping you’d be a bit more understanding. I see my hope was misplaced. Small wonder you ended up trying to please all parties to the satisfaction of none. I imagine your tactics will work about as well as they did for Marra twenty years ago.”
She sat there as he wrenched the door open, then vanished through doorframe. The door slammed behind him.
Andariana Belgi dabbed at her eyes as tears finally formed. So much like his mother. So much like Rhiannon. And so much chaos would follow.
She reached into the tiny, secret pocket of her gown and withdrew the letter. The single piece of her beloved that she still retained.
And once again she devoured the words on page. Words that gave her solace in her darkest moments. The last words her husband had written her.
Yours in love and devotion, Seryn.
The mess hall was a crowded chaotic sea of activity and Aleksei felt fortunate to manage a plate of food and a seat. It would be easy to go to Jonas' rooms and enjoy a small banquet, but Aleksei wanted to spend some time with the men of the Guard.
After all, Aleksei was unsure what sort of officer could command respect when he wouldn’t even fraternize with his men.
The fact that he was an officer was still wearing new and Aleksei wanted his men to believe that they had someone capable in command, someone who cared about their lives. About their dreams.
I need to speak with you.
Aleksei jumped at the sudden intrusion into his thoughts.
He considered abandoning his meal and heading for Jonas' quarters. But Jonas would have said something more urgent if he needed Aleksei immediately.
Aleksei took a seat amongst the men of the Fist he commanded, determined to spend at least a few minutes with them before rushing off. They smiled at first, but then eyed the ranking on his epaulet.
“Evening, men.” Aleksei said with a smile and nod.
The longer he sat there, the more uncomfortable he felt. Wasn’t he supposed to be one in charge?
But he could smell their fear, their distrust.
“So,” Aleksei said, sitting back, “how are you all this evening?”
They looked at one another, searching for a response.
“Ready for battle.” proclaimed a younger man, barely out of boyhood from the looks of him.
“Solider, what’s your name?” Aleksei asked.
“Hollings, Sir!”
“Hollings, why are you ready for battle? We aren’t at war. If we were, yes, I’d expect you to be ready for the first thing that came at us. But we’re eating dinner right now. So tell me, Hollings, how are you?”
Hollings stared at Aleksei for a long moment before responding, “I…I guess I’m doing well, Captain. I miss my girl at home.”
“Aye? Where’s your girl?”
“Keiv-Alon, Sir.”
Aleksei broke into a smile, “Thank you, Hollings. Nyland, what about you?”
“Well, Sir,” Nyland began.
Bang!
Aleksei jumped to his feet as two men on the far side of the hall dropped their plates and pulled their belt knives.
Shift. Time slowed as Aleksei slid across the room and stepped in between the two Legionnaires. As one drove forward with his blade, Aleksei grabbed his wrist and twisted it around, back towards the soldier’s face. The man cried out in shock and dropped his blade.
Time slammed back into place and both men gasped at the sudden change.
“What’s going on here?” Aleksei roared.
“He was insulting in the extreme, Captain!” snapped the soldier he’d disarmed.
Aleksei glared at the speaker, then turned to the other man, who still fingered the handle of his knife. “What did you say to him?”
The man mumbled something so low Aleksei had to strain.
“What?” he managed, barely keeping his temper.
This was all over a childish comment? And one disparaging the Southern Plain? What sort of fools were these men?
The soldier looked up sharply, “You heard that?”
Aleksei released the man he’d disarmed, turning to the man still holding his blade. “Let me explain, Private, that just because some of us come from the Southern Plain does not mean that we are simple, nor inept. Now report to your commanding officer and tell him what happened here. And in the future, keep a civil tongue in your head and your blade in its sheath.”
Aleksei dismissed him and turned to the second soldier, who was gingerly massaging his wrist. “Why did his words offend you, soldier?”
The man looked at Aleksei in terror. “You…You’re not going to kill me, are you?”
Aleksei frowned, “Gods, what has gotten into you? This is Her Majesty’s Legion. Noth
ing here is done without a trial.” Aleksei’s brow drew down. “Tell me why you felt the need to fight a fellow Guardsman, solider.”
“Begging your pardon, Captain. He was making disparaging comments about your birthplace, Sir. I felt I should set him right.”
The mood broke and Aleksei fought to keep his laughter from surging forth. “I appreciate your allegiance. But every man here is in service of Her Majesty, from the Southern Plain or from the northern most reaches of Keldoan, we’re all Ilyari. Never, I repeat never is there a need for hostility amongst your fellow men. Do I make myself clear?”
The man stared at the floor, but his response was hearty. “Yes, Sir!”
Aleksei nodded in satisfaction, then turned on his heel and headed towards Jonas' apartments. Gods, but he hoped the man wasn’t in one of his moods again.
Jonas drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair. A book laid open in his lap, but he had hardly glanced at its pages. Damn that man, where was he?
It had been half an hour since he’d summoned his Knight and still nothing.
The relationship between Knight and Magus was one of fundamental trust. Jonas needed to know that he could trust Aleksei with his life without question. Because in many ways, he was about to put all of that to the test.
The entire ordeal with Andariana, the wedding, all of it was flaying his senses more than he cared to admit. And the hell he’d created for himself was about to come to a swift and brutal end, one way or another. He needed his Knight. He needed someone he could be trust, no matter what happened in the days to come.
The door swung open and Aleksei stepped in, attempting a smile.
“What did you need?”
"I sent for you half an hour ago.”
Aleksei frowned, “I was in the mess hall.”
“When I summon you, I expect you to be here.” Jonas snapped.
“You said that you wanted to talk. It hardly sounded urgent.” Aleksei growled. “A fight broke out as I was talking to my men. I stopped it before someone got hurt. They were drawing knives.”
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