by J. C. Owens
Naral wanted desperately to deny the words, but as always, Isnay was far too adept at reading him and protest would be utterly useless this many years into the fact.
“I am exceedingly young for this role,” he replied grimly. “I have older courtiers advising me of that fact daily. Everyone is watching, waiting for me to make mistakes they can point to, use as proof that I’m not ready for such heavy responsibility.”
Isnay shrugged with annoying nonchalance. “They would do that to anyone. Bored people who have no task to keep them busy seem to excel at making other people’s lives a misery. Ignore them. The only ones you need to answer to are Taldan, Zaran, and the emperor himself. If they have not complained, then there is nothing to fret about.”
It made an exasperating amount of sense.
“Then again, if you truly need a source of worry, go right ahead. I’m sure that I could mention to His Imperial Highness that you have far too much time on your hands.”
Naral huffed, before sighing in defeat. “I hate you.”
Isnay leaned against his shoulder for a moment before moving back to his formal but relaxed stance. “No, you don’t. I’m the annoying little brother you never wanted, and I consider it my role in life to see that you don’t agonize yourself into an early grave.” His humor loosened tension Naral had not even been aware of.
“If you were my brother, I would have drowned you at birth, but you had the good fortune to be born to my aunt, and she was extraordinarily protective of you.”
“She must have detected your homicidal tendencies,” Isnay commented comfortably. “As it stands, you have someone at your back, to smack you on the head when you get out of line.”
Naral could not prevent a small smirk from twitching at the corner of his mouth.
“See! I saw that. My job is done.”
Naral rolled his eyes and gave a small chuckle at his cousin’s antics. “Fool. I can’t believe I am related to you.”
Isnay linked his arm through Naral’s. “I know. It’s such amazing good fortune on your behalf that it is astonishing. Come now. I know you haven’t eaten today, and fainting is surely a good way to get the gossips fluttering. I’m here to save you from yourself, as usual.”
Naral let himself be led away, secretly relieved to leave the preparations for tomorrow behind.
Away from the bustle, he could pretend they had more time.
* * *
Raine
Raine heard faint sounds in the hallway and carefully placed his book down before clearing a spot on the small table that Isnay had provided.
It was time for lunch.
Isnay had to have done something about the food as well because suddenly there was more of it and certainly better quality than had been in the gods-awful slop that had been the norm since his imprisonment.
The door swung wide.
Raine glanced up, then his eyes widened, and he leaped to his feet.
Hredeen stood in the doorway, as beautiful and ethereal as Raine remembered from their earlier meeting.
The concubine did not look at him, but surveyed the cell, taking his time, before his gaze finally swung to Raine.
Raine bowed his head at that look. There was something about this man that demanded respect as great as that given to the royal family. Raine didn’t know why, didn’t attempt to analyze it, he just knew what he felt.
Why would the concubine lower himself to visit this place of gloom?
Hredeen stepped in further, and Raine moved to the side, gesturing to one of the small chairs that Isnay had brought. Along with a second chair and a tiny table, it took almost all the room that the bed did not, leaving the space more cramped than before.
Raine didn’t mind. It made the place more like a tiny home than a prison cell.
The concubine gave a regal nod in response and seated himself gracefully, those eerie eyes fixed upon Raine, the chill in their depths clear.
Swallowing with difficulty, Raine sank down upon the bed so that he might have a little distance from Hredeen’s presence.
The deadly aura that the man projected seemed so clear to Raine, yet others did not seem to detect it. Perhaps it was simply aimed at Raine alone.
It was rumored that Hredeen was the imperial heir’s favorite concubine. It made sense that he would resent and distrust the candidates and certainly the Chosen, but Raine was no part of that now. No threat at all. Unless Hredeen was here to gain more information about his family and Odenar’s reported rebellion.
Raine couldn’t conceive what more Hredeen thought he could possibly tell him than what he had given the imperial prince already. All he knew was that being in such an enclosed space with the man was suddenly terrifying, in a manner that he could not rationalize.
“You are an interesting man, Raine Yoldis.” That husky voice was sensuality itself, flowing over Raine, through him, heating his body in a way he fought silently, horrified at his own reaction.
Hredeen tilted his head slightly before a slow smile curved his lips and his striking eyes narrowed. “A virgin? How unusual.”
Raine leaned back, eyes wide. How in the world…? “I… How…”
Hredeen gave a small, secret smile. “I know a great deal about you, Raine. I can sense it. Your reactions, your facial expressions. It is completely clear that you are sexually inexperienced in a way seldom seen in someone of your age. You are what? Twenty?”
Raine cleared his throat, cursing the blush he could feel forming. “Nineteen, sir.” He wanted to protest the assumptions that the concubine was making. “I am of the ruling family. I’m not allowed to have a relationship of any sort until my marriage. That is part of what my family hopes will make me more attractive to potential suitors.”
Hredeen gave a small huff. “Such fools. Experience makes for a better relationship. More balanced. Equal. Otherwise you do not know what you want in the way of pleasure, and you will be molded to the other person’s needs. Not your own.”
Raine nodded tentatively. “If you say so. No one speaks of such things at home.”
“I would imagine not, from what I have heard of Odenar. Prudish does not begin to cover their fear of sexuality.”
Raine merely nodded. He really had no idea, having not seen or heard much of how things were dealt with here since his arrival. Certainly with their emperor and the princes having their own harems, it pointed to a more relaxed view than he was used to.
“How tempting. A virgin.” Hredeen’s eyes had become predatory, the cold melting into something far more heated.
Raine’s cheeks heated still further, and he found himself pressed back against the cold wall behind the bed.
Hredeen’s predator aura seemed to lessen, and an almost mischievous smile formed on those tantalizing lips. “I said tempting. Not irresistible. You are safe. At this moment.”
Raine cleared his throat and sat up, trying to appear more adult than he felt at the moment. “If you are looking for more information on Odenar, then I really can’t help you. I told the imperial prince all I know. Truly, I was kept out of a great many important things at home.”
Hredeen was silent, but his gaze was piercing, as though he sought something that Raine himself had no knowledge of.
“It stands to reason then, that you have no clue as to what you are capable of.”
Raine blinked but didn’t speak. This man might be able to read him at will, but he had no desire to share more than he already had.
“You have developed a sense of people’s intentions, good or bad, most probably through your negative experiences with your family and those around you. A sense that serves you well for survival. However, that sense can also be used as protection for others, a warning, shall we say.”
Raine slowly nodded, confused where this could possibly be going.
“I believe with time, you will develop further abilities, perhaps even picking up people’s emotions that cause the intent. A valuable talent.”
“In what way?” Raine fo
und himself interested, his fear sliding into a background role.
“The greatest of the Chosen down through history had exactly such a talent. It has not been explained, and certainly not demanded of the candidates, but those who have read the treatises written by Chosen cannot help but notice that such a thing has happened several times, and to great advantage for the emperor.”
Raine frowned. “As you said, what I sense has been developed from great need. There is nothing to say that I will go further than this, or that I possess more than a certain knack or sensitivity…”
“True. But my own talents tell me that you, not Antan, should be the Chosen.”
Raine gaped at him. “I disagree, respectfully. The prince has chosen another. Surely he should be more than capable of deciding which candidate suits him best.”
Hredeen smiled softly when the prince was mentioned. Raine could literally feel the love that the man held for the imperial heir, it was so bright, so beautiful, that it was almost physical. Was this realization part of what Hredeen had said he held talent in?
It unnerved him, this unknown quality he had at times felt within himself. Now it felt different, like a strange being residing in his body. Unknown, potentially dangerous.
It had to be chance, a mistake on the part of the concubine.
It had to be.
“My prince is as oblivious of his inner talents as you are. He believes in physical reality, what he can touch, feel, prove. He does not yet possess the emperor’s magic, and when he receives it, he will open to a new reality far beyond what he currently understands. He will need someone who is capable of linking with that same magic. I believe that you are the one who can achieve that.” He gave a beautiful smile. “And there are other things I believe you would bring to him. But I shall let you discover those yourself.”
Raine’ s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, all that he wanted to say now jumbled and imprudent. This man, beautiful though he might be, seemed utterly mad in his view of the world and most especially of Raine.
“Who are you?” The question burst forth, and he slapped a hand over his mouth in shock at the rudeness. “I apologize…”
Hredeen held up a silencing hand. “No, it is a legitimate question, but one I cannot answer. Your sense in this is correct, but the truth can only come out in time. Before that, I am not at liberty to reveal anything at all.” His stare was piercing, and his eyes glittered strangely for a moment. “Are you afraid?”
Raine focused, driving aside the shock that what he was facing seemed far more than human. “No,” he finally whispered. “You do not feel at all evil. In fact, I would almost call you—divine.” He bit his lip, feeling foolish at the word.
The concubine laughed gently. “I suppose it could be construed as that. But I assure you I am simply human, like you. Like Taldan.” His attention sharpened once more. “I ask only that you be prepared, for I feel something coming, something that will lead to you becoming the Chosen of His Imperial Highness.”
Raine wanted to protest but was so shaken at what he had detected within Hredeen and the man’s shocking words that he could not find the reply needed.
Hredeen rose gracefully, sliding the chair neatly back into place.
Raine stared up at him. “I have been arrested. I’m part of the Odenar problem that your prince faces. I am facing execution. How can you possibly see me as his Chosen?”
“Things are never so clear as we would like to portray them. I have to go by what I feel, my own impressions, even as you do. We will see, won’t we?”
He turned to go, and Raine found himself standing, a worry that had been floating far back in his thoughts suddenly coming to the fore. “My lord?”
The concubine turned back with a raised brow.
“Are the former candidates of the six going to be present at the bonding and coronation?”
“Yes. They are.”
“Valsen Maltes will be present?”
Hredeen tilted his head as though trying to discern where Raine was going with the question. “Yes, he is among them.”
“Please, watch him. What I felt when Antan was chosen…” He shook his head, feeling shadows of the illness that flash of malice from the mage had caused on that day. “He hides something. Something darker than mere jealousy.”
Hredeen straightened, something fierce and bright flashing within his eyes. “I will do so. My thanks.”
Raine nodded.
The concubine left silently, and when the door closed behind him, the bolt sliding shut, it was difficult to believe that he had been there at all.
Raine sank back down upon the bed, confused and frightened in equal measure.
* * *
Isnay
He wished that Raine was the one being prepared.
That regret was front and center as Isnay waited patiently, sitting to one side of the room, watching as Antan was prepared for the ceremony that would take place in an hour.
The artist was far more composed than Isnay would have expected. He had made it his duty to make sure that Antan was cared for, that he had someone to speak to if he needed. There was a frightening isolation about the man, as though he were not fully in the world, as though only his body was completely present, but his mind was somewhere else.
Isnay understood Taldan’s reasoning for the selection, but he could not help but see it as a mistake. In some ways, Antan and Taldan were amazingly alike, in that their minds ranged far from their present circumstances, Taldan with sciences and Antan with art.
Unfortunately, that similarity was not going to produce a close relationship, at least in Isnay’s view. With both caught up in their own mental landscapes, it would be difficult for them to meet in anything but a professional duty.
Not what he had wished for the imperial prince. He recognized Naral’s worry, had seen it mirrored in Zaran. Taldan needed to be anchored to life, to bring him back from his own thoughts and insights, especially since he would be even more isolated when he became emperor.
Antan was not the one who could achieve that.
He still believed Raine could have.
Isnay rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. There had been little sleep the night before for anyone because of the bonding ceremony and coronation.
It would bring about great change for everyone, and Isnay, even with his normally positive outlook, could not help being concerned that those changes would come at a great cost. That sense of trouble loomed large, and he could not shake it.
He knew Naral was feeling the same. His cousin had risen before the sun and gone to check and re-check every aspect of protection for the event.
Isnay sighed. Everything had been done that could be done. They would simply have to proceed and pray for the best. It was said that the gods themselves protected the emperor. Well, the gods and the Shadows.
He could only pray that that divine protection would extend to the imperial heir as well.
He returned his gaze to Antan as the man’s light brown hair was arranged ornately, intricate braids dotted with priceless gems and an array of pearls. Each one was worth a small fortune, and a relic of bygone ages. They had become part of the regalia of the event, passed down into each new generation of Chosen.
Antan was stiff, no relaxation in his posture whatsoever, staring at his reflection expressionlessly, his soft brown eyes blank and still.
It remained evident, as it had from the beginning, that this bonding was nothing that Antan wanted. Yet he was bound by duty to his country as much as Taldan was. The act of not accepting a position of Chosen had never been discussed, ever, at least by any tale he’d ever heard. What those men had privately thought was now lost in history.
He felt a great sadness overcome him as he viewed the artist. By all accounts, he was a free spirit, a man of eclectic tastes and a desire for travel and cultural experiences that fuelled his art. He was well known for his skills in different mediums, from painting and illustration to sculpture and pottery. He
had begun dabbling in tile making and tile mosaics for the past year. It was difficult to reconcile these insights with the silent, withdrawn man he had become within Persis. By the orders of the regent of Carlenvae, along with his father, he was trapped into this position.
Isnay could only hope that with time, the man would find a place within the palace that would allow his nature to come to the fore, to find an acceptance that might lead to a degree of happiness. The unknown was always terrifying. Perhaps, once he knew that no one was out to harm him…
Isnay grimaced. It was entirely possible that the man would be imprisoned within the emperor’s quarters. It would be up to Taldan to decide if any freedom would be granted. Some emperors had hidden their Chosen away, never to see the world again. Others had been content with their Chosen aiding their endeavors outside the palace itself.
Isnay could not predict which way Taldan would lean.
The final touches to Antan’s hair were finished. He rose, staring into the mirror for a final time before turning toward Isnay. He looked magnificent in the flowing white robes of the Chosen, intricate black embroidery over the entire outfit. He wore two pieces of jewelry. A long, ornate necklace that showed the emblem of Carlenvae, and a ring upon his left hand. It did not seem particularly valuable or beautiful, and Isnay wondered at its origin. He often noticed Antan touching it, twirling it upon his finger.
Whatever it was, it held great import for the young man.
Isnay rose to his feet and smiled gently. “You look extraordinarily handsome, Antan.”
“I’m glad I look the part,” the artist murmured softly. He glanced up at Isnay’s sympathetic expression. “I just wish I felt it.”
Isnay put a comforting hand on the artist’s shoulder. “Once you get to know Prince Taldan, you will realize that you have a great deal in common. He is not a cruel man. He simply needs to understand matters. He is not one to fathom emotional nuances. That will be something you can help him with if you choose.”
