by Megan Derr
It was little wonder he felt so tired lately. He would give anything to have one night simply to sit in his room and relax. An afternoon free to play with his children, who were decidedly unhappy he barely saw them anymore. The situation didn't please him either, but if he could push through until the end of the year, he would have all the time for them they could wish.
"Lord Kamir!"
He drew to a halt and turned to watch as Tara walked toward him, as beautiful and flawless as ever, looking far more elegant in pregnancy than Kamir had been. Then again, he'd been nineteen and scared to death. Elegance had been the least of his concerns.
Tara reached him and linked arms, his other hand running over his stretched belly, largely hidden by all the layers and folds of his stunning clothes. Like anyone who lived permanently in Harkenesten Palace, Kamir spent a goodly sum on his clothes simply from necessity. But what he spent on his entire wardrobe people like Lord Tara spent on one or two outfits—and High Consort Allen's clothing budget was something else entirely.
He always felt so pretty and elegant in his room, and so very plain and awkward once he was in their company. But he smiled as they stepped into the banquet hall, and asked, "How are you feeling today?"
"Much better, thank you. I admit I did not believe that calo tea would work such wonders, but I almost feel like my old self. How did you endure this at so young an age? I would have been terrified."
"I was," Kamir admitted. "I had no choice, though, and Velina was there to help me. She's never had children, but she helped many a relative growing up."
Tara chuckled. "My poor staff is largely overwhelmed and avoiding me. Perhaps I should take on someone who won't find me anything but routine and vaguely whiny." He winked, and then they were at the High Table and greeting Allen and Shemal. Lesto and Sarrica appeared not to be joining them, to judge by the lack of place settings.
Instead, sitting in Sarrica's place was his daughter Bellen, approximately nine now, if Kamir recalled correctly. Just about the age children should start becoming accustomed to some elements of court life, like dining in the public hall. Rumor had it she was also taking up silver tongue training, which made it all the more vital she became comfortable around crowds and talking to many people at once.
At present, however, her face was fixed firmly on her plate as she played nervously with her food. Kamir looked at Allen as he finished chatting with Tara. Nodding at Bellen he asked, "Is she shy?"
"Only around large numbers of people," Allen replied. "Bellen, say hello to our guests, you know the etiquette."
Bellen looked up and smiled shyly. She was a beautiful echo of the man who'd given birth to her, though there was something of Sarrica in the way she stared, the stubborn set of her chin as she dutifully went through a rote greeting.
Kamir smiled. "You remind me a bit of my son Chara. He prefers to be quiet outside of our rooms as well. Often he's quiet in them, too. But when he finally starts talking, it's near impossible to get him to stop." He winked, and Bellen's shy smile brightened some. "So what languages are you learning, Princess Silver Tongue?"
At this, she brightened, most of her shyness falling away as she happily discussed that she was learning Gaulden, Islander, Tricemorien, Carthian, and Bentan, and if she did well on her tests, Allen would let her start learning Delfastien and Gearthish too.
By the time the second course was brought, she'd been coaxed into other topics—all the subjects she hated studying, the pony she'd been promised for her birthday, the way her brother could never hold still, and how she wished she could play with other children.
Allen turned to them at that point to cast Kamir a pensive glance before murmuring, "We'll see," and falling back to the conversation that had paused at his distraction.
Despite always feeling awkward and outclassed, Kamir enjoyed dining at the High Table. He would never dare to presume any of them considered him a friend, though Tara always treated him in exceedingly friendly fashion, but he certainly didn't mind pretending for as long as it lasted. After years of dining alone in his room or under the shrewd, brutal gazes of the High Court, it was beyond description to sit and dine with people who treated him like he was wanted.
All of that would fade once Jader returned and eventually lost interest, but Kamir would always be able to say that for a time he'd been favored by the High Throne. Whatever his family and Theoren did to him, they couldn't take these happy evenings away.
Dinner ended a little over an hour later, when Allen excused himself early to put Bellen, nearly asleep in her rose-flavored iced cream, to bed. Once he'd gone, Kamir murmured his own goodnights and departed.
His parents stared at him as he walked the length of the banquet hall, but Kamir was more than happy to continue acting like he didn't notice them. If there was one element of this entire strange time he was enjoying, it was that Allen had extended him an invitation to join the High Table for dinner every night, but had pointedly not extended the same to his family.
That must infuriate them beyond all measure, but there was nothing they could do about it unless they hit upon something that would cause Allen to regard them favorably—or Sarrica, but catching Sarrica's attention was so impossible it was laughable.
The feeling of triumph at his parents being so soundly snubbed while he, for once, was treated favorably was unfortunately fleeting. Difficult to stay positive as the custody challenge and disownment rose again to the forefront of his mind. Once that gossip swept through the court, he could only imagine how rapidly he would fall out of favor. Sarrica was fierce when it came to children, and Allen was proving to be of like mind, which made Kamir happy even as he knew it would a killing blow for him.
But there was nothing he could do about it save weather the storm. The house was bought. He and Velina had managed to spend three days straight selecting and commissioning furniture that would be delivered in another week, along with various other goods the house would need. Once all of that was taken care of, he could work on stocking the kitchen with supplies and foodstuffs.
Then he could move his family into it, and Pantheon, he could not wait to see the looks on their faces when Chiri and Chara saw it. They'd be sad about moving away from some of their friends, but that could be worked with, and they'd love having so much space…
He came to a halt at the end of the hallway as he saw the figure waiting by his door with a familiar sour expression on his face. Steeling himself, remaining right where he was so Theoren would have to come to him—in the middle of an intersection of hallways where anyone could happen by and guards in the large pubic hall not far off would hear noise—Kamir asked, "What do you want?"
"I thought you'd like to discuss the challenge," Theoren said, failing miserably at his attempt to sound soft and persuasive. Theoren never had been good at anything but thinking the world of himself. He strolled up to Kamir like they were arranging a time to have tea together.
"I'll save my discussions for the court." Kamir backed up as Theoren drew closer than expected—and gasped as he was grabbed and thrown against the far wall. His heart jumped into his throat as trembling overtook him, eyes stinging as a panicked need to run and hide clawed at him.
Theoren loomed in close. "This is exactly the kind of snotty behavior that makes your life so difficult."
Old, familiar frustration and bitterness pushed away some of Kamir's terror. "No, abusive ex-husbands and parents make my life difficult. Get away from me."
Immediately gentling, using that soft tone Kamir had acquiesced too more times than he could stomach counting, Theoren said, "Come now, Kamir. You know you bring it all on yourself, being stubborn and single-minded and ignoring the advice of your betters."
Kamir wanted to cry. Scream. Punch him in his fucking face.
But he'd be damned if he gave Theoren more leverage by getting into an altercation with him or calling for the guards. It wouldn't matter what he said or how justified he'd be, people always believed Theoren. They had for yea
rs until Kamir had arrived at court still exhausted from giving birth and with a case against his husband that even the laziest, most apathetic clerk could not ignore.
He'd done it once and he'd do it again, but only by doing it the same way: slowly, carefully, and giving nothing away until he could slap Theoren in the face with it in the middle of a courtroom. He shrugged off Theoren's hand. "Do not touch me. Get away from me."
"Kamir," Theoren said, voice soft again, the sweet tone he'd once used to seduce Kamir into so many stupid things. A tone that no one else had ever used, that had made Kamir think he was special. Treasured. Loved.
Instead he'd just fallen for a different version of the same tired tricks his parents had used.
"Don't be like this, Kamir," Theoren continued. "I know we ended poorly, but surely after all this time you can give me a second chance."
Kamir almost laughed, but he was afraid it would turn into sobbing. "A second chance? You show up and during our first conversation you threaten to take my children. You haven't changed at all." He twisted free and moved back to the middle of the intersection. "Stay away from me, Theoren, or I'll shout for the guards."
Anger flickered in Theoren's eyes, but he was prevented from commenting by the sound of voices rapidly drawing closer—people chatting and tittering about some person not present.
His smile more like a grimace, Theoren said, "We'll talk when you're no longer in one of your disagreeable moods. I forgot that there's no talking to you when you're like this." He turned and strode off, and Kamir shook with relief. Once Theoren was out of sight, and the group they'd heard had entered the hall, Kamir headed for his suite.
Unlocking the door, he slipped inside and locked it again behind him. Velina saw him and immediately threw her knitting and crossed the room to embrace him. "Was he lurking?"
"Yes, but he's gone for now." Kamir went over to the sideboard in the dining area and fixed himself a cup of tea.
The papers he'd left for Velina to look over were still laid out on the table, and despite how stupid and pathetic it made him feel, Kamir shook hard in the wake of dealing with Theoren.
Pantheon, he'd already done this once. Why did he have to do it again?
Velina pulled up a chair close enough she could lean in and hug him. She then rested her head on his shoulder and ran fingers up and down his spine until Kamir's tears were finally spent. "You beat him once, you can beat him again—and this time you'll be even better at it. Whatever your worthless family tries to say otherwise, you've only grown stronger and more capable over the last eight years." She tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "More beautiful, too, but that's not really relevant to the situation, although I bet it does rub salt in Theoren's wounds."
Kamir gave a tremulous laugh. "Why couldn't he just stay away?"
Instead of answering, Velina said, "Clearly we should have gone with our first plan and dropped him down an abandoned well."
His laugh was steadier that time. "Clearly." He drained his tea and set the cup back down. "After reading the court papers, I'm half-surprised you didn't kill him."
"I ran errands instead and reminded myself why I'd rather see him suffer slowly." She moved her chair back around the table and gathered up the papers, setting them neatly between them. "Do you think your parents are mixed up in this somehow?"
Kamir spread his hands. "That seems the only way he'd know of the disownment filing. My parents have started the process, but they obviously want to keep it discreet for as long as possible. Even I didn't know they'd already submitted the papers until today. I just don't know why they'd be colluding with Theoren. They hate him almost as much as I do—they would probably claim they hate him more." His mouth twisted. He was sorely tempted to find something stronger than tea, but that wouldn't actually help matters in the end.
Velina worried her bottom lip as she stared pensively at the table. Just when Kamir was about to ask what weighed so heavily on her mind, she looked up and said, "I've been thinking about it ever since he arrived, and even harder since his threat. All I can think is that it's not like him. He doesn't give a damn about those children; if he did, he wouldn't have waited eight years to regain parental rights. No, this smacks of a man who showed up to get money out of you and wound up in the hands of schemers."
"My parents," Kamir said, closing his eyes as the whole nasty scheme came crashing down on him.
Theoren had probably planned simply to barge in on him and wheedle and harass until Kamir finally gave in and threw money at him. But somewhere his parents had gotten hold of Theoren and probably offered him plenty of money if he did what they said—challenge for custody of his children and force the investigation, leaving Kamir destitute and desperate, at which point he'd have no choice but to marry someone as they'd ordered. He didn't doubt they had candidates at the ready.
Or, now that he'd somehow wound up in Jader's bed, they might be hoping that he would somehow force or persuade Jader to marry him. Which just made Kamir want to laugh hysterically.
He made another cup of tea instead, then sat down with pen and paper to start listing out everything he needed to do. An order of holding would be his first step; the court would have no problem granting that, he hoped, and that would force Theoren to stay away from him. Testimonies of good standing.
The temptation to ask Tara, Shemal, or Allen was strong… but they were not his friends, and had no reason to use their leverage to help him. It was only a matter of days before they caught wind of the whole matter and likely rescinded the invitation to dine with them.
His chest ached just thinking about it, but maybe it was better to end that flight of fancy sooner rather than later. It had been wonderful while it lasted; he would have to live with that.
Master Berrio from the clock shop would write him a testimony. Shiar would certainly give him one. He needed at least three, though, to build a truly strong defense. "I need a third."
"Bremm," Velina said.
Kamir slumped. "Of course, I'm a halfwit." He jotted Bremm's name down, then moved on to the rest of the paperwork he would need to gather: financial records, a copy of the mortgage, records of the children's schooling, healer records…
When the initial list was complete, they broke it down and made notes on everything they would need to do to secure each item. Some of them were simple—he merely needed to take his papers from the original case to the office of records and have official copies made. Time consuming and not inexpensive, but simple enough. Other matters would take much longer and entail a great deal more work.
But it was all doable, and the very first thing he was doing in the morning was going to the court to get the order of holding.
He finished his tea and left the cup to be taken away by Amaria in the morning. "Thank you, Velina."
She hugged him tightly as they stood. "It's not as though you haven't helped me time and again in return. I would not have my cozy life if you had not befriended me. And soon we'll move into our pretty new home and leave all this treachery behind us." She kissed his cheeks. "You should get some sleep."
"I need to finish up that desk clock first," Kamir replied around a yawn. "Hopefully it won't take more than an hour. Go to bed. I promise I'll find mine soon."
She gave him a last admonishing look, but gathered her knitting and went. Fixing himself a stronger cup of tea, because it was going to be a bit more than one hour if he wanted to turn the clock in tomorrow, he went into his workshop and settled in.
When he finally dragged himself to bed a few hours later, the time made him wince, but he'd just have to get through the long day on tea and determination. Stripping off his clothes, he pulled on a sleep shirt and crawled into bed. He was asleep almost before he finished pulling the blankets.
*~*~*
It wasn't Velina or Amaria who woke him up, but a sudden, sharp need to empty his stomach. Kamir barely made it to the chamber pot before doing precisely that, only barely registering the soft squeak of his door opening.
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"Kamir?" Velina asked softly.
He couldn't answer though, too busy curling in on himself as a sudden, single and terrible thought filled his head: he'd forgotten to drink his astiri tea after his last encounter with Jader the couple of weeks before he'd left. He'd been so enchanted, then distracted, then overwhelmed…
"Oh, Pantheon, how could I be this fucking stupid?" he asked, moaning as he covered his face.
"So you are pregnant," Velina said softly. "I thought… but assumed I must be wrong because you never mentioned it."
Kamir gave a wobbly laugh. "I was too stupid to notice. You'd think I'd be smarter than that, but I wasn't. I let myself be distracted and got careless."
Velina made a soft noise when he'd finished explaining. "What's done is done, unless you want to end the matter now."
He considered it, because life would be so much easier if this unexpected problem vanished. There were substances he could take that would certainly do that. But the same was true several years ago when he'd made the decision to keep Chiri and Chara, too. "No."
"Then we move forward. At least you're a wonderful father, and the twins will think a sibling the greatest possible gift." She helped Kamir to his feet.
"I'm more worried what the court will think. How my parents will react." Kamir took a deep breath, forced back the panicked tears that wanted out. He'd cried too much lately, and more crying wasn't going to help anything. "W-what Jader will think? I can handle it if the whole of the High Court thinks I'm trying to force him into marriage with this, although they're mistaken about the century they live in if they think that sort of game would work. I just don't want Jader thinking that of me."
"You still don't know us Islanders very well," Velina said, scoffing. "We don't even have marriage the way you lot think of it, with your contracts and such. We say marriage because that's easier, but it's not nearly as binding as what you Mainlanders call marriage. My arrangements with two of my lovers are what you would call marriage, but neither of them are the person I've trusted my belongings to when I die—that is someone back home, who already has an informal claim on my hut. The High Commander has a good Islander brain in his head; at the very least he'll have the sense to ask you before he believes court gossip."
