by Rae Brooks
She didn’t like the idea of leaving him, especially after what had just happened. She wondered why it hadn’t been mentioned. Maybe he hadn’t liked it, and he didn’t want to tell her when the situation was as it was? “Just be careful,” she finally mumbled. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“You too,” he returned. He stepped forward, and then he grabbed her and placed a quicker, softer kiss on her lips. Her cheeks flushed at the movement. That had not been expected at all. “Stay safe. I think the guards have left for now. We should go. Just make sure to keep an eye out for me.”
She nodded, and they both turned towards the cellar door.
“A vow taken to save a person can be just as powerful as a vow taken to save a land.”
-A Hero’s Peace v.i
Chapter xlii
Calis Tsrali
The warm liquid pouring over his cheeks may well have been his own blood. He had seen no one for what felt like an eternity. He sat against the wall of his room—and he had no idea where the sun was. Lavus had put some contraption over his window so that he couldn’t see out, let alone get out. The only movement in the room were the tears that had yet to stop streaming down his cheeks.
His room was a mess. The moment he’d been released from the guards, though they had conveniently placed shackles over his arms, he had torn the place apart. His bed was in three separate pieces, none of which were anywhere near one another. His clothes were strewn across the floor, his desk, the drawers, every belonging that he had. He’d destroyed the room. There were cracks along the stone walls where he’d hit them, and his fingers were red and bruised from the effort.
He sat against the single location that wasn’t coated in debris, against the wall, with his legs bent out before him. The only other piece in this room that mattered to him was in his hands. His fingers ran over the silver and sapphire, turning the amulet over and over in his hands. The chain hung loosely, just touching the floor. The amulet was comforting, and then it reminded Calis of everything terrible in the world. Taeru’s amulet. The Lassau crest, two silver wings and sapphire attached to a chain. A tiny, insignificant piece of jewelry that Calis hadn’t been able to put down.
Taeru had given it to him to tell Calis who he was—Taeru Lassau, the prince that had gone missing. Now it seemed to pulse with comfort and agony, simultaneously, as it fueled his emotions. He hated everything—he hated Lavus, he hated Tareth, every guard in Telandus, Lee, and more than anything, himself. The only person Calis couldn’t bring himself to hate was the one no doubt being mercilessly interrogated as he sat in his room, powerless to stop it. “Taeru,” he whispered into nothingness.
He hated this room, and everything that it represented. Why had he waited? Why had he even listened to Taeru? He should have known that the wedding would never have been alright—he should have refused to listen to Taeru. He could have heard him out when they were both safely away from Telandus. In a fit of renewed anger, Calis slammed his head back against the stone that he sat against. It hurt, but not nearly as badly as he wanted.
This was entirely his fault. He had dragged Taeru into the romance, knowing what it might lead to. Taeru had even accused him of it in the beginning, and yet Taeru was too kind to cut it off entirely. He hadn’t wanted to hurt Calis. Even knowing that his title as the Cathalari prince would get him killed, Taeru had stayed with Calis. What Calis would never be able to convince anyone of was how not treacherous Taeru had been. He had tried to shun every piece of information. The fact that he wasn’t being truthful plagued him like an illness.
If Calis had just paid more attention—he could have figured it out for himself. He could have kept Taeru safer. He may have taken longer, but he would have reacted the same—he never would have let anyone hurt Taeru. The fact that Taeru hadn’t told Calis was quite novel, as other than in that, he hadn’t seemed to have any worry for his well-being. And, even in that, he hadn’t. He had told Calis, gotten himself captured, and now Lavus… No. No!
Calis buried his face in his hands, agony pulsing through him like a thousand knives. Any hope he’d had of Lee helping him had vanished, after all, Calis wasn’t sure how long he’d been in here. If Lee had any sort of plan, then he surely would have found a way to implement it by now. Calis had spent a long time searching for a way out, and once, he’d managed to open the door and promptly been half beaten to death. His arms and stomach still hurt.
Why would Tareth, or even Lavus, want to hurt Taeru? His identity was so irrelevant when looking into his face. He was the kindest person Calis had ever met, the best person Calis had ever met. He didn’t have a perfidious bone in that small body. Lavus should have been able to see, and he, in all his paranoia, ought to have been able to detect it. He certainly would, and Calis was sure they were taking great pains in trying to dismember that part of Taeru. Taeru would never have betrayed his family, or Calis. He would give them no information. The only thing he would try to do was stop the war, and protect those that he thought he should.
Tareth flashed across Calis’s vision, and wild fury bubbled into his system. He yanked himself from the ground, slamming another fist into the stone wall. That lying, pathetic, rat. He would have done anything to advance himself—he had never cared for anyone but himself.
Calis would find him, and he would kill him. He would give Tareth the most painful death that anyone would ever have. Calis’s teeth gritted against one another, and he paced the room a few times. Taeru, Taeru, Taeru. This is all my fault. I am going to find some way to help you, Taeru. Please… please, be alright. I would give anything to know that you are going to be alright.
Not that Calis had done a good job of ensuring that remained true. There was no way that Taeru wasn’t being put through all sorts of agony to try and wrench information from him. Knowing Tareth, Taeru was probably being put through pain for the sake of pain. Calis clenched his fists, and he could feel the familiar blood oozing between his fingers.
Suddenly, there was a commotion outside of Calis’s door. His heart leapt in his chest, and he listened intently. “You cannot stop me from seeing my son,” his mother hissed. Calis growled and tossed his head away from the door. He had no interest in seeing Claudia. He could try to escape if they let her in, but they would be expecting that.
“Ma’am, these are orders from his Majesty himself. You have our apologies, but…”
Claudia snarled angrily, and her voice was louder the next time. “I have the bloody paper.” Calis assumed she was thrusting said paper at them. After another brief exchange, the door opened just enough so that the men could push his mother through. She staggered a little and looked indignant. “Oh my…” she whimpered. “What is this?”
Calis narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with his mother. The woman who had plotted against their father. A woman who could have been taken down to the dungeon and rightfully tortured for the things she’d done, but no, instead an innocent, perfect man was there. “Why are you in here?” he snapped. He was not going to be kind—not to anyone—until he saw Taeru again, safe.
“Calis,” she said. She sounded like his mother, and not like a woman who might try to explain to him why what he’d done was wrong. He would hit her. Tradition and courtesy be hanged, he would strike this woman if she did. “You’re bleeding,” she said, looking to his hands. Calis stared blankly at her.
He didn’t bother to look at his hands, as he was well aware that he was bleeding. He intended to make it worse when he hit the wall again. “Perceptive,” he hissed. He turned away from her, not needing the sight of anyone. Perhaps Lavus had done him a service by prohibiting people from seeing him.
“Darling,” she started. He was—he was going to have to assault his own mother. This infuriating, suffocating woman who had never understood him, not like she ought to have. She had been too busy trying to claim power for herself. “Calis, I know you’re upset. I know this isn’t what you expected to happen. I know your father has been unreasonable.”
> Everything was about Lavus. That was probably why his mother and Lavus had gotten married, he theorized, she had been so obsessed with him. He must have been drawn to how everything she did was influenced by what he did. Too bad he didn’t realize that it was because she wanted to murder him. Calis just scoffed. “You don’t know anything, Mother. Not of any value.” His words were venomous, and he felt no remorse.
She flinched, and he didn’t have to be looking at her to know that she had. “Calis, you have to understand. He is a Cathalari prince. Your father is reacting like anyone would. You couldn’t have expected any other reaction.” Calis narrowed his eyes. She was just reiterating how much of a fool he’d been.
“I didn’t know who he was, Mother,” he snapped. Why was she in here? Had she really come in here to waste her time by trying to tell him that Taeru deserved any of what was happening to him? Surely she wasn’t that daft.
Claudia took a long breath. At least Calis’s tone wasn’t lost on her. “But now you do,” she said sharply. “He is from Cathalar. The very country that we intend to go to war with. He deceived you. How can you not see that?”
“He did nothing!” Calis turned, and his eyes burned with fury. He took a step towards her, and she rightfully jerked back. He intended to hurt her—he would kill her if he had to. He would not listen to her pretend to know Taeru Lassau. “He did absolutely nothing! He hasn’t spent years plotting to murder the ruler of Telandus! He hasn’t betrayed his own brother in cold blood for an advancement in position that he’ll never get! He hasn’t brought on a war that this country will never win—he hasn’t doomed Telandus! We have. We have! We have! WE HAVE! You want to punish someone for betraying Telandus? Go down into that interrogation room and strap yourself in, and take your treacherous son with you.” Calis let out a hollowed laugh. “Perhaps I ought to tell father the nonsense you two conspired in his absence. The paranoid fool knows nothing of treachery, and yet it lives all around him!”
Her eyes were wide, and they flickered with uncertainty as they regarded him. Perhaps Claudia would be the one who sealed his fate—he didn’t think he cared. He couldn’t remain in this room, and being silent would earn him nothing but that. “Telandus deserves to fall,” Calis said. Once again, her eyes were widening, further this time.
“You think your sudden change has nothing to do with the enemy prince that you’ve been frolicking about with?” she asked. Calis stepped forward, and he brought his hand forcefully across her cheek. It felt better than it should have, and he wasn’t sure he could stop himself from doing it again.
“I never loved you—just as I never loved Father or Tareth. Taeru Lassau changed nothing about me. He only showed me that I didn’t have to isolate myself from everything because I knew that if I didn’t, I would be betrayed and stabbed in the back. Taeru is everything innocent in this world, not only innocent of what you accuse him—but innocent. No one in Telandus even knew the meaning of that word. Pure, uncorrupted, compassionate, gentle, kind—he’s never wanted anything but to help others. He’s put his life in danger over and over again to do what he thinks is right!”
For some reason, her mouth was moving but no sound was coming out. She’d just been slapped, and Calis was surprised that she hadn’t reacted. “Calis! Don’t be blind! He came to Telandus from Cathalar! Surely, you can see that wasn’t an accident!”
“Taeru wanted to stop the war,” Calis howled. “He wanted to make sure that pointless blood wasn’t spilled because your husband pushed for a war he can’t win!” Calis shouted. He advanced on her again and she retreated at once. “Get out of here, Mother!”
“No!” she cried back at him. Strange tears had formed in her eyes, and he wondered if he might be causing her to go mad. Then, he figured that she had already been there—for quite some time, if he was correct. That was what happened when someone married Lavus Tsrali. “Calis! I don’t want you to hate me! I want you to see that he isn’t perfect! He is capable of corruption just as we all are. You think because he is foreign that he can’t plot against you or anyone else?”
“He is, though. Bloody… he is!” Calis screamed it, and his voice sounded so hoarse and broken that he wasn’t sure he was comprehensible. He collapsed to his knees, clutching his head desperately. “He’s brave, strong… stronger than you understand! You just don’t understand that someone can be innocent of your conniving, deceitful thoughts!” Tears flowed freely from his eyes once again, though he hadn’t wanted to do so in front of this vile woman. “I’m not the fool, Mother. You are. You’ve always been!”
“Calis!” she shouted in return. She moved towards him, and he pulled his body up, shifting towards her menacingly. She staggered back. Coward, he thought bitterly. Not as though she could take him on, though, he supposed. He ought to wring her neck, right here, standing in this room. That would give Lavus something to think about. Lavus wouldn’t care, though, Calis realized.
Claudia may have been the only one in the castle who did care about Calis—fool that she was. Taeru flickered across Calis’s mind. You’d hate that, wouldn’t you? To think that I killed my mother in a rage for hearing her slander you… it would not matter to you. You probably wouldn’t even want Lavus or Tareth dead. Oh, Taeru… Calis pulled back, focusing on controlling his tears.
His mother was taking long, unsure breaths, and yet she was still standing in the room with him. He wondered to what end she was in here. Had Lavus put her on the task of bringing him back to their corruption? Doubtful. “What do you want, Mother?” he asked unforgivingly. “Why are you here?”
“I don’t want to lose you,” she whimpered. Oddly enough, Calis thought that she may have meant the words. “I want you to know that we aren’t monsters—that others are capable, that this one time… I…”
Calis shook his head, his eyes rested on his mother coldly. “Have you seen him, Mother? Have you seen the prince?” Calis asked. His words were cool, as though he was speaking without his heart, only with a burning hatred that had separated itself from him. That was how he felt he was speaking—despite everything, he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but hatred for the woman before him.
“What?” she breathed. “No. I just…”
A few more tears escaped Calis’s eyes, and he turned away from her again. He stared at one of the three pieces of his broken bed. He ought to have torn it a few more times, he thought. His lips pressed into a thin line, and he took a breath. “Go see him, then. Go look into his eyes—and tell me what you’ve just said again. Tell me that I’m wrong. Until then, I won’t talk to you—and if you don’t get out of this room, I can’t promise that harm won’t come to you.”
“If that is what you want,” Claudia said softly. “Calis…”
“Go,” he growled. He couldn’t believe that she was standing in here under threat of physical harm. Perhaps his mother was more of a man than his brother and father were. They would never have risked it, not without a weapon, and Claudia did not have one of those.
“You will speak to me when I return?” she asked softly.
“Yes,” he snarled.
“They each abandoned everything to achieve the one thing they wanted most.”
-A Hero’s Peace v.ii
Chapter xliii
Taeru Lassau
Taeru had never wanted to do anything so much as he wanted to curl up. His entire body had been forced into such stretched, exposed positions, that he wanted nothing more than to pull himself into a ball to make it stop. That, or just get one moment out of this perpetual darkness caused by his blindfold. Lavus, and in his absence, Tareth—had not relented. Not once, not for a singular moment, and Taeru wasn’t sure how long he’d been down here. Though, he was sure that none of the torture compared to how humiliating being force fed by these people had been.
Now, though, his limbs were once again spread-eagled over another metal device. His hands and feet were resting on a surface, as was his back, and the side of his face was pressed against the
metal—since he’d found himself unable to keep it upright, but his arms and legs were suspended, straightened by the position in which his body was placed. Tareth pressed down on one of his arms, and though Taeru was still blinded, he knew the hand enough to know it was Tareth’s. “You know, Taeru,” Tareth said amicably, “if your father could see how incredibly pathetic you look, I doubt he’d care at all about the messenger my father sent to tell him where you are.
Panic pushed against Taeru. A messenger—so Lavus had sent a messenger to Veyron to try and provoke him. He won’t… he would have to know not to do this. I left—I’m not his son any longer. Apparently, I never was. Father, please… don’t do this. Ignore it. Don’t be a fool. He hadn’t been able to find his voice for a long time, but he found it then. “Why?” he asked hoarsely. “Why would you do that? You can’t win. You’re being manipulated. Cathalar would destroy you. Leave them alone.”
A pain exploded along his elbow, a strange, shattering feeling bouncing up and down his arm. A blunt object, strong and hard, had struck him, and the pain reverberated through his body . “You stupid, little fool, we will destroy Cathalar.” Lavus was speaking again.
“No, you won’t,” he choked. Another blow rocked that same elbow. He heard the strange cracking sound, and he worked to ignore it. His breath was once again evading him, and he desperately wanted to squirm. “You won’t! You don’t need me to tell you that you don’t have the army for it. You’ve been pushing Veyron for years—without any hope of winning—Lavus, think about it. You aren’t a fool! Don’t act like one!” Another blow. This wasn’t working, he informed himself helpfully. A cry actually forced itself from his throat.
His bones were the last things that his body had intact, he thought. After the past bout of torture, Taeru’s skin was a bloody mess. Whips, chains, knives—every single one of them had been dragged across his skin in some attempt to perforate his defense—to gain information. He had remained unwaveringly silent, though, and he would continue. His joints were so stretched from having been unable to bend that they were of little use to him. His senses were beginning to betray him, with blurring vision and ringing ears. And now Lavus intended to break his bones—lovely.
