The Heart of the Lost Star (Tales of the High Court Book 3)

by Megan Derr

  "Papa! Papa!" Chiri screamed. "Can we go diving?" She ran toward him, and Jader watched her—and the look of pleased surprise on his face was almost gratifying enough for Kamir to leave off strangling him. "Can we, Papa?"

  Kamir smiled. "Well, we can't go today, of course, but I promise I will tell you when we can go, all right?"

  Chiri pouted, and even Chara looked a little disappointed, but they nodded and dutifully went back to playing when Kamir bid. Jader laughed as he stood. "There the whole time. Some alert High Commander I am." He crossed the courtyard and gave a small, playful bow. "The children are as beautiful as the father, Lord Kamir."

  "Thank you, Commander," Kamir said, grateful he managed to get the words out without stuttering or stumbling over them. "It means a lot you think so." It meant more than he seemed to like children. The few times Kamir had seen Theoren around children, he had treated them like pests to be driven away. Kamir's parents firmly believed children were meant to be silent and obedient—and out of sight when not required. Kamir had always wished for someone who loved children as he did.

  As wary as he was of letting anyone near Chiri and Chara, it was reassuring to see that Jader genuinely liked children.

  Jader laughed again. "You would be the only one pleased to hear my opinion on anything today, my lord." He winked, but then turned more serious. "I hope no further guards have troubled you. I did speak with Captain Dennar to ensure such unreasonable behavior did not continue."

  Kamir's eyes widened. "You—you did not have to do that, Commander." He ducked his head, worrying at his bottom lip, then made himself look up again. "They had every right—"

  "They had no right," Jader cut in. "But think no more of it. The matter has been addressed and closed."

  Except for the fine Kamir still needed to pay, but one thing after another had required his attention the past two days. Hopefully he'd be able to deal with it in the next few days. "I appreciate it," he murmured, and scrambled for something else to say. "What brings you to this part of the palace?"

  Jader hesitated, then with a sheepish, slightly pained smile said, "Hiding, to be honest. There are some special guests in residence and they make me uncomfortable."

  "The Bentans?" Kamir asked. Why would Jader be uncomfortable around Bentans? Well, nobody particularly cared for them, but to be fair, most Bentans probably had no love of Harken. But he didn't think that was why. "I'm sorry they're troubling you. Do feel free to hide here, though you may be coaxed into storytelling or skipping rope."

  "I can think of worse ways to spend an afternoon," Jader said with another smile, and to Kamir's complete shock, he gave another playful bow and returned to the children. Kamir retreated to his bench, content to watch Jader and his children interact and commit every single second of it to memory, firmly stamping on the anxiety that always rose up whenever anyone outside his tiny circle of trusted persons got too close. Even being half in love with Jader didn't make it easy to relax—but the smiles on his children's faces, how vibrant Jader was talking to them, how right and perfect and too good to be true it looked, certainly helped.

  "Tell us an Island story!" Chara said.

  Kamir gave him a look. "Chara."

  "Please," Chara added dutifully.

  Snickering, Jader sat on the ground and loosely folded his legs. "I'm not sure I know any your Miss Velina has not already told you. What about the Cold Fire Festival?"

  "Fire can't be cold," Chiri said, frowning and folding her arms across her chest.

  "That's not why it's called the Cold Fire Festival. Once a long, long time ago, Mother Ocean was so grief-stricken by the death of her youngest daughter that she fell into a deep sleep, and without her to guide the oceans, the world grew dark and cold, far darker and colder than it had ever been. For the first time, the Islands experienced ice and snow, which left them cold, hungry and afraid, for the Islands do not experience winter the way many other parts of the world do."

  "Snow? I've never seen snow either, except in books," Chiri said. "It is really cold?"

  "Cold enough to freeze off your ears and nose," Jader replied. "I've never seen it either, but then, I'm from the Islands. Since that one time, snow has never fallen—because the Islanders back then gathered together and formulated a plan to drive back the cold and wake Mother Ocean. They collected all the wood they could find, even that which built their houses and fishing boats. They carried it all to the biggest island and arranged it into a hundred great big fires. So great were these fires they drove back the cold and the dark, and the warmth of them was so marvelous that Mother Ocean woke from her grief to investigate the source—and was dismayed to see what had happened while she was sleeping. She immediately banished the cold and dark from the islands, restored all the Islanders had sacrificed to build the fires, and promised never again would she allow them to suffer so. Now, every year when the weather cools, the Islanders light great big fires to remind the cold it is not welcome on the Islands, and they keep smaller fires burning constantly until Mother Ocean once more wakes and the warm months return.

  "It is also a tradition during the Cold Fire Festival to throw on the fires tokens representing those who died during the year, so they might join Mother Ocean in her rest and wake to start the year over with her when the warmth returns."

  "Like we burn people so they can move to the Divine Fields," Chara said.

  Jader bowed his head. "Yes, precisely like that."

  "Tell us another!" Chiri said, throwing up her hands.

  "Chiri!"

  Giving Kamir the look of the long suffering and aggrieved, Chiri turned back to Jader and said, "Please."

  Kamir buried his face in his hands. "I'm so sorry, High Commander. I swear they're normally better behaved than this."

  "They seem well-behaved to me," Jader said, chuckling. "Far be it for me to complain about people demanding I talk to them. I've had soldiers running away from me all day." He winked, then turned to the children and said, "You seemed interested in the pearl diving. Would you like to hear a story about the woman who fell in love with a man who was half fish?"

  The children cheered loudly, and Jader began the tale. Half-listening, Kamir reached into his satchel to fetch the children's snacks—but stopped when Velina came rushing in, her hair messier than she usually permitted when not in their suite, an angry, distraught look on her face.

  Abandoning his satchel, Kamir stood and met her halfway, catching her flailing hands. "Velina, what's wrong?"

  She muttered something in Islander, cast a look at the children, then said in low tones, "Lord Kamir, he's here. He came to the suite and requested to see you and the children. I told him you were out, but he wouldn't believe me at first. It was only when I shouted for guards that he left."

  Kamir was going to throw up. "Theoren?" he whispered, and dropped his hands as she nodded.

  He was supposed to be gone. Theoren hated Harken, especially Harkenesten—both the palace and the city. It was why they hadn't gone with Kamir's parents when they'd moved there, though at the time Kamir had also thought his family would have refused them. By the end, when he had no other choices, that hadn't mattered.

  "D-did he say why?" Kamir asked, and fought back the tears and panic that wanted out. His children couldn't see him falling apart, and he definitely didn't want to look pathetic a second time in front of Jader. Mostly, though, he didn't want his children to grow up as weak and useless as their father.

  And he would be damned before he allowed Theoren close enough for them to even see him.

  Velina shook his head. "He wouldn't tell me anything." She frowned, looking torn and unhappy. "He did leave a note."

  "Marvelous."

  "Is everything all right?" Jader asked.

  Kamir looked past him, relieved to see the children were immersed in playing their little pebble game. "No, but it's nothing I can't handle."

  "I thought you said Master Theoren, and worried he was harassing more people," Jader said. "After his un
seemly arrival and the altercation he caused in the banquet hall last night, I was hoping to have a good excuse to lock him up for a few days."

  Kamir let out a sharp, startled laugh. "I would gladly give you a reason if I had one, Commander, but unfortunately it's not against the law for a man to want to see his ex-husband. Though I would greatly prefer never to see him again." His hand shook as Velina pulled an envelope from her apron and handed it over.

  "Theoren is your ex-husband?" Jader asked. "Who was cruel enough to inflict that bastard on you?"

  "A much younger, stupider me," Kamir said, mouth twisting. "I cannot be entirely sorry, for I do love my children, but I will be the first to say that I should have waited a few more months before dashing to the temple."

  "I'm glad it's a situation you got yourself out of. If he acts untoward, let me know, and I'll level more fines on him—and there's always the stocks and the prison."

  Kamir wanted to kiss him. Not lasciviously, though he was always open to the idea of wet and filthy kisses from Jader, just… soft and lingering in heartfelt gratitude. "Thank you, Commander. No one has ever offered to throw someone in stocks for me. It's quite sweet of you, if unorthodox."

  Jader grinned, bright and mischievous. "If you want unortho—"

  "High Commander! Here you are!"

  Lifting his gaze to the sky, Jader then turned around and regarded the soldier pelting toward them. The man barely stopped in time to avoid crashing into Jader. "Yes, Cadet?"

  "The High Consort requires your presence in Executioner's Court."

  "Very well. Escort Lord Kamir, his children, and their caretaker back to their suite. If you encounter Master Theoren and he does anything to make them uncomfortable, drag him away immediately and see he does not return to further harass them. Am I understood?"

  "Yes, Commander!" The cadet snapped an enthusiastic salute. If he found the orders strange, he gave no sign of it, merely smiled cheerfully as he gave Kamir a hasty bow.

  Jader turned back to Kamir. "Thank you for allowing me to spend time with you and your children, Lord Kamir. I hope the rest of your day is pleasant." He turned to Velina, said something to her in Islander and winked. Velina looked briefly flustered, but rallied and said something in reply that made Jader grin.

  Biting back his curiosity, Kamir said, "Fair winds, Commander, and we were honored you would grace us with your time." He bowed his head, and Jader did the same before turning sharply on his heel and striding off in that way all soldiers seemed to possess. Like something bad would happen if they didn't charge about, jangling loudly with every step.

  Velina cast him Kamir a look.

  "What?"

  "Nothing," she said with a faint smile. "Nothing at all."

  "Somehow I don't believe you. What did he say?"

  Velina laughed. "That he's heard much about me from the little shimi, and I seem remarkably well-behaved for someone from Fire Island. Did you want to read that note, or should I just burn it?"

  Kamir made a face. "I should probably know what to expect so we can prepare."

  "I think you should just smile at the High Commander some more and ask for that kekti to be thrown in the stocks."

  Kamir snorted at the idea of his smiles convincing Jader to do anything. He broke the wax on the envelope, pulled out the piece of paper inside, and read the brief message. "He wants to have dinner, says, It's been a long time, and there is much that needs to be said, and he'd be grateful if I would give him a chance to say it."

  Velina sneered. "So he's broke again."

  She'd been their once-a-week maid, hired several months after they'd first moved in to their little house, after much careful pleading on Kamir's part. Kamir had been so proud of that house. It had been small, shabby, but his. Theirs. A whole house for just him and the love of his life. He'd been trained to run a household, as it was always the duty of the youngest to marry well, usually to someone for whom they'd take on the day to day running of a household and estate. He'd only been sixteen, though, and his training far from complete. He'd learned the hard way that for every one thing he knew, there were twenty things he didn't know.

  Theoren had finally allowed him to hire a maid, and having not much else to do, Kamir had thrown himself into learning everything Velina could teach him.

  By the end, he'd been more distraught about losing the house than his husband.

  "Very likely," he said. "Broke or looking to get out of some other bit of trouble. It'll be easier if I meet with him and get it over with. I'll pen a letter to be sent to him through the palace post, and I definitely will not be inviting him to our suite for dinner. In fact, if you don't mind, run to the banquet hall offices and see about renting a private room. I don't care when. If he's as desperate for something as we think, he won't have any choice but to meet when I say, and I'm not giving him the leverage of eating somewhere more public than that. I'll take the children back to our rooms."

  Velina nodded, squeezed his hand, and bustled off.

  "Come along, children," Kamir said brightly. "We never got around to snack time and now it's nearly lunch, so let's go home."

  The children agreed cheerfully and gathered up all their toys, putting them in the little satchels he'd bought them, both bright pink as requested, but each decorated by its respective owner and vastly different: Chiri with fish and cats and birds; Chara with butterflies and flowers and frogs.

  Slinging his own satchel across his chest, he took Chiri's hand and let Chara walk ahead of them as he preferred to. The whole time, Kamir's stomach was in knots, certain they would cross paths with Theoren.

  He barely managed not to slump in relief when they made it to the suite without incident. Thanking the cadet for his help and sending him on his way, Kamir dropped the letter on the pile of recently delivered mail, and then shuffled the kids off to get cleaned up for lunch. Once they were tended and at the table drinking juice while waiting for food to arrive, he went into his own room to freshen up—but started with dropping onto the bed and burying his face in his trembling hands.

  Theoren. Who'd left years ago to 'find someone less slutty and stupid' in Gearth or Tricemore or wherever it was he'd flounced off to. Why was he here, of all places, nearly ten years after their divorce? Theoren hated Kamir, and he hated Harkenesten more.

  Was he after the children for some reason? Kamir started crying then, from the utter relief of knowing that Theoren legally had no standing, and the High King was particularly opinionated on such matters. He did not tolerate the mistreatment of children, and the courts did what kept the High King happy and out of their way.

  Hearing Amaria's voice as she arrived with lunch, Kamir hastily stood and went to clean his face before changing into a fresh jacket that was not covered in dirt and grass from Chiri coming to see him every few minutes with a rock or flowers or feathers.

  Checking his face in the mirror one last time, he returned to the main room and took his place at the table. Chiri smiled at him, and even Chara stirred enough to offer one of his soft, little smiles. Kamir returned them full measure and ruffled their hair before picking up his spoon and starting on the creamy, spicy soup that was one of his favorites.

  When lunch was done, he sent the children off to play in their room. Technically their room was the master suite, but he hardly needed all that space, and it meant they had plenty of room for sleeping and playing.

  The suite was comprised of six rooms: his room, the children's room, another bedroom for Velina, the schoolroom, main room, and a little office he'd turned into his workshop.

  His clockwork had begun as a hobby, something he taught himself after he'd broken his watch and, rather than tell his parents, had decided to try and fix it himself. That first attempt had evolved into an interest, and later when he'd had no friends, nothing to do beyond take care of his little house while his true love revealed he was truly a monster, he'd buried himself in clockwork.

  Eventually that had turned into a way to earn coin that he'd ca
refully saved to pay for the divorce and moving himself and his children to Harkenesten. Currently, it supplemented the money from his parents that he was tucking away for the move and living independently. He should probably feel bad about sort of stealing money from his parents… but no, he really did not feel bad about taking anything from parents who hadn't been much better than the man he'd run away with. Though he'd long ago conceded he probably wouldn't have listened to them, even if they'd been the epitome of good parents, that didn't absolve them of being bad parents either.

  Sitting at his table, he slid on his special glasses and picked up the piece he was working on. The woman he worked for specialized in artistic clocks and watches, especially clocks that could be put on shelves, desks, and the like. She purchased or commissioned various pieces of art from glassmakers, sculptors, and the like around the city and had Kamir and her other contracted makers insert the timepieces.

  She'd been so pleased with the oceanic one he'd commissioned and done himself for Jader that she had wheedled him into doing similar pieces for her to sell—and so far they sold almost faster than Kamir and the glassmaker could create them.

  His mind drifted helplessly to the clock he'd made for Jader, the kind of clock that normally would sell for half a crown at least. He'd spent far too much money on the glasswork and clockwork pieces, but he hadn't been able to resist doing something, even if Jader would never know it was him. Even if he hadn't been half in love with Jader, he would have done it just for the happiness Jader's promotion brought to Velina and the few other Islanders Kamir knew.

  Shaking himself, he focused on his work, carefully bringing together all the wheels, bridges, springs and more. His watches were accurate to within ten minutes, and he was always keeping abreast of improvements. There were larger clocks that were accurate to within one minute, and he was waiting eagerly for that to be achieved in smaller clocks.

  He took a break when his latest piece finally reached the halfway point, working on kinks in his neck, back, and arms as he admired his progress. This was a commissioned piece, worth two full crowns, set with sapphires in place of the numbers, the hands made of white gold, the timepiece set in a sculpture of two women holding each other. It was meant to be an anniversary gift from a woman to her spouse; they'd been married for twenty-five years.