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

by Megan Derr

  "Hand me my crutches, please." Everyone kept purposely putting them out of his reach because he was surrounded by bossy bastards. When the guard had handed them over, Jader got himself up and settled. His whole damned body ached, but it was infinitely better than being bedridden the way he had been until only a few days ago. Since leaving Wessel's home, Jader had been treated like glass on the verge of breaking.

  Mother Ocean, he wanted to be home. He wanted to be sitting on his patio enjoying the sight and smell of the sea, a breeze on his face, and Kamir cuddled in close, fussing over him. That probably made him bratty or weak, but Jader liked being fussed over. Growing up, the only good thing about being sick was the way his mother would bring him food, stroke his hair, sing and tell him stories. He didn't have to face the kids and adults who'd disliked him for having Mainlander skin, who'd made fun of him as he struggled to learn one language while having no idea what language it was he still occasionally spoke.

  Once he'd decided to join the imperial army, the battles had begun all over again, and when he got sick or hurt, there'd been no one to fuss. He'd settled for fussing over himself, and that had turned into spoiling himself. It was never the same as lying with his head in someone's lap while they sang or read to him.

  But the sulking would have to wait until the day was over and he was alone in his room again.

  Out in the hall, four additional guards waited to escort him. Two of them were Shattered Wind, and two were part of Desmond's personal guard, Bitter Frost, and reminded Jader heavily of Fathoms Deep, somber and quietly ominous in their midnight and ice blue uniforms.

  He was escorted out of the beautiful inn Desmond had overtaken, and joined Desmond in the carriage waiting outside—an open carriage, infinitely easier for Jader to climb in and out of. "Good afternoon, Your Majesty."

  Desmond smiled and handed off the papers he was holding to the secretary sitting next to him. "Good afternoon, High Commander." His Harken was impeccable; if not for his Bentan looks, he could have passed as Harken-born. But he was distinctly Bentan: pink-toned white skin, sharp features, dark, thick hair cut artfully short in a way only courtiers could get away with. His eyes were such a pale gray they almost seemed silver, especially against the glint of his silver-framed spectacles and the remarkably plain diadem on his forehead. The silvery eyes were eerie against his waifish build and beautiful clothes, especially when they turned hard as ice. "How are you feeling today?"

  "Nervous," Jader said.

  "I know you've little reason to believe me, but we are safe. Twenty guards between us around the carriage, and I've got them all over the streets as well—including more than a few archers."

  Jader waved the words aside. "Not about the journey, Your Majesty."

  "Ah." Desmond smiled. "Yes, your people have been quite cagey about this delegate, and the High King's missives quite a bit, hmm… direct."

  "I would imagine so." Jader bit back a laugh, but only barely.

  They reached the private royal harbor a short time later to greet the beautiful imperial schooner waiting there.

  Desmond's secretary dismounted first, and a Bitter Frost soldier stepped forward to help Desmond out of the carriage, followed by two Shattered Wind to assist Jader.

  They waited as the gangway was lowered and soldiers spilled out of the ship, all of them wearing black tunics embroidered with a scarlet three-headed dragon. Once the soldiers had disembarked and lined up, three more figures appeared: Jac, pretty and fierce and adoringly protective of her charge; Lord Rene, dressed elegantly in formal clothes, the kind Harkens wore maybe three times a year. But the long over-robe was black and embroidered in red, a brilliant red, gold, and black sash wrapped low around his hips, a gold under-robe peeking out from the thigh-high slits in the black robe. He wore a sword at one hip, and knowing Rene, there were plenty of daggers secreted away.

  Standing next to him was precisely the person Jader had dreaded: Allen.

  He was as beautiful and captivating as ever, draped in green and gold and snowy white furs. A gold diadem dripping emeralds and diamonds glittered on his forehead, more sparkling in his hair as he headed down the gangway and up the pier to join them.

  Desmond smiled and bowed his head. "It's an honor to at last meet the esteemed Golden Tongue of Harken, though I hate such unhappy circumstances are what bring you to my kingdom."

  "The honor is mutual," Allen replied, and extended his hands, where for once he wore his imperial ring, along with several others, though none were quite as dazzling as his wedding ring. Desmond lifted Allen's hands and kissed the knuckles, and Allen stepped in close to brush bare kisses to each of Desmond's cheeks. He murmured something in Bentan that made Desmond smile, then stepped away and turned to Jader. "High Commander, I'm happy to see for myself that you're alive and seem to be in moderately good health."

  Jader made a face. "I am sorry I can't greet you properly, Your Majesty. Was your journey pleasant, at least?"

  "Very."

  Jader next embraced Rene. "You are not the Arseni I thought would be tagging along on this venture, as controlling as the other one can be."

  Rene laughed. "He's busy enough doing your job, and no one could argue anyway, not when it's the Three-headed Dragons who serve our High Consort."

  Allen smiled briefly. "Shall we get out of this miserable cold? I had thought I was done with snow, but it appears snow is not yet done with me."

  Desmond laughed, signaled his guards, and soon they were bundled up in the carriage and headed back to the commandeered inn.

  When they reached it, Jader escorted Allen to his rooms and, at Allen's indication, followed him inside. He was surprised Allen dismissed Rene and Jac, but said nothing. Once the door was closed, Jader asked, "Did they have to drug Sarrica or stuff him in a storage closet before they could get you out of the palace?"

  Allen gave a tired smile as he removed his travel clothes and set them on the bed for a servant to put away later. "He wasn't happy, but in the end, there was little he could say short of outright forbidding it, and he's already learned not to do that." A shadow fell over his face briefly before he smoothed it away and turned to Jader. "Which brings me to you, High Commander. Quite a bit has happened in your absence, and it's long past time you were apprised of those matters."

  Jader's heart tripped and thudded. "What's wrong? Is Kamir all right?"

  "He's well enough, though certainly life has not been relaxing for him lately, and he is precisely what we need to discuss. Once coffee is brought, we will do so."

  Mouth tightening, Jader moved to the little sitting area by the fireplace and settled into one of the deep, warm seats. Allen finished freshening up and came to join him just as coffee arrived, along with fragrant pastries that were both Harken and Bentan in style.

  Jader poured a cup of coffee and cut it with enough cream he could drink several swallows in rapid succession. "What's wrong with Kamir?"

  "I scarcely know where to begin," Allen said, then smiled faintly. "Well, that's not true. The most important part is this: Lord Kamir is pregnant, and in a few more months you are going to be a parent—if you have interest in claiming the child, anyway."

  Jader opened his mouth. Closed it again. Thoughts tumbled through his mind too rapidly for him to settle on any one. Kamir was pregnant. It must have been that last time in Jader's suite. Kamir was going to have their child. And nobody had fucking told Jader until now.

  "Of course I have interest in claiming my own damned child," he finally managed. "Why in the Mother Ocean did nobody tell me about this until now? He must be four months along. Why did no one motherfucking tell me?”

  Allen set his coffee down. "I will not presume to speak for Kamir, though if I had to guess, I would say he either did not want to bother you while you were here, or he was afraid to say."

  Jader's mouth flattened at that, but he didn't argue. He didn't know everything that had happened to Kamir, but he knew enough to know both of those possibilities were equally
viable. "So what about the rest of you?"

  "This is the part you are not going to like, but hear me out before you get angry."

  Jader poured himself more coffee and waited, though it was near impossible to focus on anything except the image of Kamir pregnant, or Kamir holding their child and smiling in that soft, sweet way of his. He had thought he was homesick before—right then he wanted to be home so badly it was hard not to cry.

  "Kamir did not tell any of us—not that I expected he should have," Allen said. "But it was Sarrica who noticed, and reacted in typical Sarrica fashion."

  "He got mad at Kamir for being pregnant?" Jader was going to kill him.

  "For possibly being as much of a schemer as his family," Allen said, and lifted a hand to ward off Jader's angry words. "Hear me out," he repeated. "Kamir insisted he wasn't scheming, that it was an accident. Sarrica pushed him by threatening to issue an imperial decree that he was forbidden from marrying you."

  "I will fucking kill—"

  "High Commander!"

  Jader subsided angrily, setting his cup down so hard coffee sloshed over the rim and spilled onto the plate.

  "Sarrica only said it to see how Kamir reacted. He only would have gone through with it if Kamir's reaction had confirmed he was a schemer."

  "How did he react?" Jader asked quietly.

  "He asked for it in writing, more or less," Allen replied with a sigh. "I was in meetings all day; I did not find out about the matter until after the paperwork had been filed. Kamir has never said, but given all that has been happening, we believe he agreed to it to block his family's machinations. Which leads me to everything else he has been enduring."

  By the time Allen had finished telling Jader about the custody challenge, Sarrica and the order of holding, the altercation between Kamir and his mother, and all the rest of it, Jader wanted to smash the coffee service then sail back to Harken and punch everyone involved in the mess—starting with Sarrica and working his way down by rank.

  He was so fucking mad, he couldn't even manage to speak in Harken. "Why the fuck did nobody see fit to tell me of any of this until now? Kamir is my lover, and he is carrying our child. I should have been informed and doing my best to help, not stuck like an oblivious, selfish fool here in Benta."

  "Sarrica and Lesto insisted we could handle the matter and have it resolved before you came home, and that telling you would add unnecessary stress to your situation since there is very little you could have done from here. I didn't agree, but Sarrica has domain in all matters military. I could not and would not go behind his back. That being said, when we realized someone had to come here, it was agreed you would finally be told. I am sorry."

  Jader started to say that he didn't fucking care about apologies from bottom feeding Mainlanders, but stopped short. He didn't mean it, and it wasn't entirely fair. "I should have been told much sooner than this."

  "Agreed. If it makes you feel any better, Sarrica mostly had to agree to me coming here because I've been so damned mad at him he couldn't muster much of an argument."

  That drew a bare smile. "I honestly thought he'd skip arguing and go straight to forbidding."

  "I think Lesto is the only reason he didn't, though neither of them will admit that to me, of course." Allen smiled, eyes going distant briefly as he lingered on thoughts of Sarrica.

  It made Jader ache for Kamir.

  He closed his eyes as anger and pain and guilt rushed through him all over again. Four fucking months Kamir had been writing him letters—sweet, cheerful, happy, and he liked to think affectionate letters. Even one erotic letter. Kamir had trusted him enough to write him an erotic letter. And not once had he given any indication of the troubles weighing him down. Pregnant and immediately labeled a nasty schemer looking to coerce the High Commander to temple. His despicable family. The vile ex-husband that Jader was going to turn into chum the moment he got his hands on the motherfucker.

  Mother Ocean, he'd always acknowledged he was a vain and selfish person, but he hadn't thought he was so despicable he'd remain cheerfully oblivious to his lover's distress while he whined about every little triviality that made his life difficult for a handful of days—and sometimes only hours.

  That people had worked hard to keep him in the dark did nothing to soothe. Kamir mattered to him; he should have noticed something was wrong.

  "I truly am—"

  "Don't say sorry again," Jader interrupted. "I'm not happy, and I'm going to be mad at all of you bottom feeders for a long damned time. You can bet when I get my hands on Sarrica I'm going pitch your motherfucking husband into the ocean."

  "He and Lesto both know they're in trouble, believe me. They have been trying to make amends for their behavior."

  "You promised me you would protect him. You of all people, I thought would keep that promise."

  "I thought I was doing so, but it's long been clear I didn't, I know." Allen looked miserable, but he didn't say anything further to defend himself. "I will do whatever I can to make amends and restore your faith in me."

  Jader sighed. At least Lesto had sent Charlaine to be Kamir's bodyguard. As apologies went, that was an adequate one. Not good enough he wouldn't break their fucking noses, but he might not break their damned limbs.

  Once Jader finally returned home he would set up permanent protection with Shattered Wind.

  "Am I allowed to write to him about all of this, now I have finally been told the truth?"

  Allen nodded. "Of course. Which reminds me…" He stood and went to the small chest that had been set on his bed. Pulling out a ring of keys, he unlocked it and threw the top back. Lifting out a small parcel, he carried it over to Jader. "This is from Kamir. He never asked, and I did not see him again before I left—we have been trying to give him space—but he's aware you know everything by now. Whether he's mentioned any of it himself, I could not say. Anything I can do to help, you've only to let me know. I am sorry I did not do a better job of keeping my promise to protect him."

  Jader sighed again. "I'm still angry, I won't lie, but I believe you did think you were doing your best. In your positions, I can't say how I would have acted. Thank you for finally telling me everything."

  "I don't think that merits thanks. Certainly write to him. I'll see to it the letters reach him as quickly as possible. If you have parcels, I'll see those are delivered as well. I've brought runners and birds for precisely that purpose. Now, I must go meet with Desmond."

  "You don't need me there?"

  Shaking his head, Allen replied, "No, this is strictly between Desmond and me. The meeting will be long, complicated, and boring to any but the two of us. I will warn you that the situation is a delicate and tricky one, and I cannot promise we'll all be terribly happy with whatever outcome we reach—but I will do my best to resolve this matter to our satisfaction, and rapidly so we can all go home."

  "You look like you're enjoying it at least a little bit."

  "I like a challenge, there's no denying that," Allen said with a shrug of one shoulder. "Relax while you can. I'll be back later tonight. Don't hesitate to go to bed if it gets to be too late. This could very well take days, and there's no point in you staying up when you need rest." He smiled faintly. "That's an order, High Commander."

  Jader lifted his eyes to the ceiling. "Go away, Your Majesty."

  With a parting wave and laugh, Allen did just that. Shattered Wind entered as he left and helped Jader back to his own room.

  Once he was alone and comfortably settled, Jader stared at the package on his lap. Finally he unwrapped the paper, revealing a long, narrow box and a letter with his name in Kamir's familiar elegant hand.

  Normally he would have opened the letter first, but surprise and curiosity drew him to the box. The symbol on it was the same style as the one his desk clock had come in. Probably coincidence: the shop was clearly of the highest quality, but the mystery of his desk clock was always in the back of his mind. Now his lover sent him a gift from the very same shop? Jad
er was intrigued.

  And if he was completely honest, he was a bit nervous about the letter. He was all too aware people usually found individuals like him and Lesto ultimately not worth the trouble. He hadn't set out to spend more than a brief time with Kamir, but the more time passed, the more time he wanted. But after all the trouble he'd already proven to be, he doubted Kamir would want anything except to never see him again.

  Kamir had sent a gift though, the first time he'd done that in the four months they'd been apart.

  Jader freed the silvery ribbon holding the dark blue box closed, rubbing his thumb over the silver symbol in the top right corner of the box. He removed the lid, and then simply stared at the pocket watch inside.

  It was the most beautiful watch he'd ever seen, made entirely of white gold, carved all over with fish, sea horses, and other oceanic creatures. The edge was carved to look like a braid and beautifully 'threaded' with gleaming black pearls.

  The face of the watch was made of translucent blue glass, with pearls carved in the shape of different creatures for the numbers, the hands swirls of mother of pearl. Behind it, he could see the gears, mesmerized by the smooth, elegant movements as he wound the watch and they started to work.

  Such a watch, customized in every detail, could not have come cheap. Even Jader would not have bought himself such a nice watch, and he had roughly twenty of them on the rare occasion he was in civilian dress long enough to bother putting one on. When he was in uniform, that kind of jewelry rarely lasted a day.

  He ran his fingers over every bump and curve, turning it every which way—and only as he opened it for the third time did he notice his name engraved on the inside of the cover. In Islander.

  Gingerly setting the watch back in its box for the moment, he finally broke the seal on the envelope and pulled out Kamir's letter.

  My Dearest Jader,

  I am certain by now you have been informed of all that has passed in your absence.

  I am sorry, for my part. I never liked keeping anything from you. Part of me did not want to bother you with my own foolish mistakes. Part of me dreaded your reaction. Most of me simply did not know how to say it all.