by Rae Brooks
Calis had the oddest desire to embrace Kilik right where they stood—which would have gotten them quite a few strange looks. “Why is it so odd to you that someone wants to look out for you?”
“It isn’t,” Kilik answered.
“Then, do you mind?” Calis asked again. The atmosphere between them sparked, and from the estranged look in Kilik’s eyes—Calis was sure he wasn’t the only one who noticed. Without another word, Calis gestured for Kilik to lead the way again. Their silence was comfortable, for the most part, but Calis couldn’t help the strange desire he had to talk to the graceful boy before him. Unfortunately, he didn’t know what to say. He had succeeded only in flustering Kilik with his words this sun—and he knew that any further conversation would immediately lead to more tension.
Calis wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. He enjoyed the idea very much that Kilik was as attracted to him as he was to Kilik, but he didn’t like the fact that they couldn’t seem to talk without Kilik getting angry or suspicious. He wasn’t allowed much time to think, as the journey from the particular market they’d been at to Juliet’s house was not a long one. As they reached the front of the house, Calis stopped. “Here,” he said softly.
“Yes. Well, I… appreciate the gesture.” Kilik turned to head into the house. Watching him go was more painful than Calis had ever remembered it being. Something between them had changed, and Calis desperately wanted to understand what it was.
“Kilik,” he said. The speed with which Kilik turned to face him was incredible, and the blue eyes looked expectant. What did Kilik want? Did he want anything? And did he know how badly Calis wanted him? Surely not—considering Kilik didn’t seem capable of understanding that Calis even cared about his well-being. “I’m glad you didn’t ask me to leave.”
Calis advanced towards the smaller boy with a single step. They were close, then. Calis found his eyes fascinated with everything about Kilik—again. “Please, don’t betray me,” Kilik pleaded. The weakness, the vulnerability caused something inside of Calis to snap. He moved forward and put a very unsteady hand to Kilik’s cheek.
How? Calis wondered. How could anyone betray you? How could anyone not want to do precisely what you asked? There was fear and hesitancy hanging in those blue eyes, and Calis could feel his heart breaking. Kilik was vulnerable, and Calis’s need to protect him flared to an apex. “I will never betray you, I swear.”
The shock at having Calis’s hands on his face made the young boy twitch just a little. Then, in Calis’s inspection of Kilik’s form—he noticed a feature that had escaped him until that moment. Kilik’s lips. They were pale, with a soft definition that made them stand out against the rest of his face. They weren’t precisely full, but they fit his face so entirely perfectly—and Calis could feel an attraction between himself and those lips as he imagined, for a single moment, what they must feel like.
As he stared at them for another moment, he could feel the overwhelming compulsion. How could he resist this? Kilik was appealing to every one of Calis’s senses, and he was expected to walk away. Those lips—they were unlike anything Calis had ever laid eyes on before. They were, in fact, very kissable.
To kiss Kilik in that moment would have been easy, as his hand was already resting on the soft cheek. He leaned forward, and Kilik didn’t pull back. In fact, there was a desire reflecting back at Calis in Kilik’s face. But, then he thought of Lady Avyon—about what he would do to Kilik if he kissed him here. This wasn’t fair. Calis cared about Kilik, desired him more than Calis had thought possible. Yet, to kiss him would be to do precisely what Kilik had asked him not to do, and Calis had promised not to do that.
Calis stepped back, and the disappointment on Kilik’s face made the ripping pain of pulling away that much worse. Calis stood there, dumbfounded and unsure how to resolve this situation. He wanted those lips so badly, but he didn’t want to push Kilik into this—into his already ruined life. Kilik didn’t deserve that. But—Kilik deserved something, and Calis wanted to give him that. At last, he took Kilik’s hand in his own and pressed his lips to the boy’s upturned palm.
Calis heard the sound as Kilik worked to stifle his inhalation of breath. The gesture was not normal, and they both knew it, but the moment Calis had done it—a smile broke onto his face and happiness made his head swim. Never had he felt so satisfied after putting his lips to any part of someone or something. “Kilik,” he said, dropping the boy’s hand.
“I’ll… see you again?” Kilik asked, and was unable to disguise the hopefulness that entered his voice. Perhaps Calis had just started something that he couldn’t stop, but he wasn’t sure he was entirely opposed to that. He would not hurt Kilik—Lavus be hanged.
After a moment, Calis’s smile widened. “You know you will.”
Then, Kilik returned his smile. And the smile was his real one—the one that he’d given Calis back at the dance. There were the soft dimples that lit up his face and made him that much more striking. “Thank you, Calis.”
“No, thank you, Kilik.” Calis bowed before he started off in the direction of the castle, and despite looking back once to see Kilik heading towards his house—his heart was far less hollow than it had been a few moments ago. He would see Kilik again, and he would make sure Kilik stayed safe—and happy.
“Inevitably, there will be a weakness, for when your line is at its greatest—weakness will render a man unable to see himself.”
-A Hero’s Peace, v.i
Chapter xx
Taeru Lassau
Taeru found himself stumbling, rather than walking, into Juliet’s house. He was confident it hadn’t the least bit to do with his injured leg, as well. In fact, his leg injury, which had admittedly been grieving him throughout his entire journey through Dark District, seemed nonexistent now. The part of his body that was bothering him now was his palm. It was tingling with an incredibly odd sensation, not due at all to injury.
Taeru had been forced to kiss many women’s hands back in Cathalar. That was not a process he was unfamiliar with, but he could say, without ambiguity, that his hand had never been kissed. He could also say with the same amount of certainty that he had never anticipated it being kissed. But, Calis had kissed it. The prince had kissed his hand, for no apparent reason, and now the spot where Calis’s lips had bee was burning with a thousand sensations.
He worked to flex his fingers to make the feeling stop. Taeru was not so stupid to think that it was not caused by his own embarrassment. Though, Calis could hardly be held entirely at fault for the situation. In that moment, when they had been far too close to one another, Taeru was aware that he had not pulled away. Not only had he not pulled away, but he had remained, almost expectantly.
There was no need to deny it, as he was himself, and denying truths to one’s self was a very short route to mental illness. No, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he did acknowledge that he had wanted Calis to kiss him. He had been staring into the prince’s eyes, with a heart pounding far too fast, and he had imagined it a hundred different ways.
Calis’s rejection, or rather, when the prince had pulled back rather than kiss him, there had been disappointment as well as relief. The disappointment was unavoidable. Calis was very attractive, charming, and all other things that kept mindless women awake in their beds beneath the moon, and Taeru was not immune to those sorts of things. But, the relief meant that he was keeping his wits about him. He knew that Calis was far more dangerous than even the prince realized to him, and he to the prince. He could not let this continue.
The prince and he were absolutely wrong for one another. Calis may have thought that he understood the reasons that they could not be together, but he did not know the strongest one. No, Calis knew, or thought, that Taeru was a commoner, and a male! By the Magisters, did Calis have no sense of dignity whatsoever? He was a prince! He was the crown prince, and hence, he would be required to produce an heir.
If Taeru was sure of nothing else, he knew that he could not
give the prince that. Imaginably, Calis did know that and simply intended to toy with Taeru. It wouldn’t have been the first time Taeru had been strung along, though it would be the first time romance was involved in the act. The thought caused an inexplicable pain in Taeru’s chest, and he chose to ignore it.
Because, if for some unruly reason Calis did actually intend to pursue a relationship with Taeru—or Kilik—then he surely did not know the singular reason that they could never be together. Taeru was a Lassau, and Calis was a Tsrali, and so by all definitions, the two of them were mortal enemies. Taeru had no predefined hate for the Tsrali family when he had originally arrived in Telandus. No, he had been sure to cleanse himself of any such thinking before he arrived. But now, after what he had seen of Tareth and Lavus, he knew that he did not like them. Now more than ever, he understood that Veyron had always been a good man. He sought to destroy these people because they were bad.
However, that didn’t change the fact that a war would tear the lands apart. That didn’t change the fact that Taeru did not want a war—that he did not want so many lives to be lost for the sake of ridding the world of one or two men. Lavus, merciless as he was, did not kill without reason. The death toll would rise incredibly should the war come to pass. Not only that, but the odds that Cathalar would accept Telandus citizens after the war was unlikely at best. Far too much hate had developed between the two places for a peaceful resolution should a war be kindled under such strain of hatred.
Idly, Taeru wondered if Calis would agree with him. He knew next to nothing about Calis’s thoughts on anything. He doubted seriously that Calis would understand Taeru’s reasoning, and he doubted even more seriously that Calis would not have him killed should he find out who Taeru was. To his credit, though, if Calis was aware that Kilik was the Phantom Blade—he had not caused Taeru any trouble for it. And if he didn’t know, well, then he was not nearly as intelligent as some people thought him.
Taeru had slipped up far too often for Calis not to have some inclination that Taeru—Kilik, whatever—was the Phantom Blade. That secret was nothing compared to Taeru’s real secret, though—the secret that no one in all of Telandus, or anywhere else, could ever know. That was why he and Calis could never have any sort of real relationship. Because, even if he didn’t know it, Calis wanted Taeru dead.
Pain shot through him as though he’d been shot full of arrows, and Taeru slammed his fist into the wall. He realized that he had walked into Juliet’s house, and that he was currently standing at the entryway like an imbecile. Not only that, but his hand was still tingling with the memory of Calis’s lips. “Magisters help me,” he growled under his breath. Alyx must be home, but as always, he hadn’t made much noise when he’d arrived.
“Alyx,” he spoke into the air, in a voice loud enough to be heard.
Almost at once, Alyx appeared through one of the mounted cloths. She grinned at him. Her hair was neatly braided, and he thought about asking what the occasion was. Upon further analysis, though, he realized that he was in no sort of mood to be asking questions and responding accordingly. “Did you get them?” she asked.
“Yes,” Taeru answered stiffly and held out the small bag of goods that he’d acquired from the market. He didn’t bother to ask whether or not the bread was for Juliet, if it was, then Alyx would surely give it to her. “Do we have any guests?” he asked. There was one question to which he needed an answer, and they could have no audience.
Alyx looked perplexed by his question, and then she shook her head. “No, we don’t. Katt is helping mother with the Tarne child, but no one else. That brown-haired man came by earlier, but he didn’t stay long, and he didn’t have…” Suddenly, her hazel eyes lit with delight. “Were you with the prince?”
A frown twisted onto Taeru’s lips. He ought to have asked his questions, so that he wouldn’t be the one who got asked them. Working to keep his cheeks from changing colors, he just stared at her for a few moments, with his mouth just slightly ajar. “That is not an assumption you can make,” Taeru said warily.
“So you were!” she said accusingly. Her body advanced on him, and she observed him very carefully. “I hope you weren’t mean to him. You were just so nasty to him while he was here last cycle! The prince! And the handsome one! Yet all you can do is sulk, and give him one word replies.”
The thought was sobering. Taeru had been rather rude to the crown prince, and should Calis want to—which Taeru hoped he didn’t—he could have been put to death with no more than a word from Calis. That frightened him. Who was to say that Calis wouldn’t use that power later? And then, when Calis had given Taeru complete control over the situation, Taeru had been unable to end it—like a child insistent on putting his hands too close to a fire. Why hadn’t he just let the prince leave? “I was rude to him, and for that reason, you ought to know that he would not be interested in keeping my company.”
“No, because he kept coming back last cycle, and he would always smile at you in the strangest ways when you spoke. In addition, you are flushed, and you have yet to answer my question properly. You were with him.” Her revelation required no confirmation, and Taeru had no intention of giving it.
“Take your Lightless bag, Alyx, before I throw it at you,” he said crossly. A mischievous grin spread onto her face as she moved forward to take the bag in her hands.
With one of her sweeter smiles, she tilted her head and nodded her thanks at him. “Thank you for going to get this, Kilik. Mother is rather angry with me for sending you out, though, in the rain.”
Letting out a breath, he moved his hand up to run through his black hair. There wasn’t much of it, in fact, he had less now than he’d had in Cathalar—and he had never let it get very long. “Better me than you,” he said gently.
“No,” she said. “Your leg is not completely healed, so I think in this instance it would have been better me than you. But, you didn’t tell me.”
Taeru shrugged his shoulders thoughtfully and fell down on one of the rugs in the room. His palm still felt prickly. “It was fine, Alyx. I didn’t mind at all. You know how Juliet gets.”
“How do I get, Kilik?” Juliet asked crossly, as she appeared from her healing room. Taeru shifted a little where he sat. He wanted to leap up and run back out into the rain. With that, though, he realized that it had started to rain again. Mentally, he calculated whether or not Calis could have made it back—there was no way. Calis was going to be soaked because of him, and castle healers could do very little against sickness caused by cold.
When Taeru’s eyes met the healer’s, Juliet’s gaze softened. She never seemed to be able to stay angry with him for very long. “You don’t appear to have gotten wet. Did you at least have the sense to stay out of the rain?”
Taeru was certain that the full story would have gotten him questioned, and in the end, he would have been blamed for something that never actually happened. He hadn’t intended to wait out the rain, but a blond-haired, chivalry-obsessed prince had insisted. “I did not go into the rain.”
Once again, though, Katt appeared to ruin his story. “He was going to, though. The only reason he didn’t was because Prince Calis showed up.” The fact that they all seemed to be mentioning Calis, the crown prince, so comfortably seemed out of sorts. This could not have been normal, and if another noble had overheard, Calis would surely be implicated.
Instead of getting angry again, which Taeru had expected, Juliet just smiled and shook her head. “Oh yes, he came by earlier looking for you. He didn’t seem any more pleased than I was that you had gone out before you were fully healed.” Her irate eyes found Alyx then, and the blond girl squirmed beneath her mother’s gaze.
The little living room seemed very crowded, Taeru thought, and that was made worse by the pounding of the rain outside. He glanced up to the roof. Every time there was any sort of rain, he expected some of their hard work to give way and for the rain to spill into the house. But, as usual, the rain was being kept outside. “You didn’t
tell me he came by earlier, Mother.”
“I knew you were the reason Kilik was out, and your punishment was my not telling you about that.” Sometimes, Juliet and Alyx were less mother and daughter, and more sisters. They were very easy to be around.
Katt chewed on her lip thoughtfully. “You know the prince fancies you, Kilik,” she said in a voice barely loud enough to reach Taeru. Still, the words were enough to bring a bright red coloring across Taeru’s cheeks.
“I don’t think so,” he said warily. “He is simply entertained by me.” That made sense in his mind initially, but when he thought about the looks Calis gave him—it fell a little flat. Not to mention, Calis had claimed to like him, though Taeru wasn’t sure what that meant. “Surely, his highness is aware that not only can a prince not be with a commoner, but he can also not be with a male!”
“I don’t think his highness cares,” Alyx said derisively. His highness better care, lest he feel the wrath of Lavus. Taeru’s thought twisted and contorted at the idea of Calis being at the mercy of Lavus. Even with his own son, Taeru knew, Lavus would not spare any punishment. “Oh, Kilik,” she shrieked, “are you worried about him?”
Sometimes, or all the time, he wished that his eyes weren’t such windows into what he was thinking. “I worry about everyone,” he said, which was an irrefutable truth. She didn’t need to know that his worry for Calis was beginning to supersede anything else.
“Odd, though, isn’t it?” Juliet mused. When no one seemed to understand what she meant, she continued, with a coy smile, “Having someone worry about you, for a change?”
Taeru frowned at the assertion. What a foolish thing to say—Juliet very clearly worried about him all the time. And yet, it did feel different with Calis. To have someone so—or who appeared so—strong wanting to protect him was different. Ryo had certainly never insisted upon walking Taeru home from any place to keep him safe from rain, or anything else about which Calis had been worried. Taeru had been taught from the start that he would be expected to protect himself in all situations.
