Valerian (Mine to Take 3)
Page 5
Valerian had always demanded immediate compliance from those who served him… without thought to how it might disrupt their lives. But here again he found himself questioning his behavior. He had always prided himself on being in touch with the common man.
Perhaps he had been deluding himself. Would he treat the common man so cavalierly if indeed he were in touch with their needs? Melena’s words continually rang in his head about how he thought nothing of others, how he did not appreciate the trials others suffered in order to please him, she being the extreme case in point.
If he truly did care about the common man, he should care about leaving their fates in the hands of his despot brother. He should understand that his father’s teachings had been a guide and that his father would never have wanted his country to fall into the state it had fallen into, regardless of whose birthright superseded whose.
Valerian growled under his breath, shaking his head. This all weighed too heavily on his mind. But, he realized, it was not entirely a new weight. He had been aware of these things… had been having these thoughts… for some time. It was simply hearing them from someone else that was giving them more power. Someone with nothing to gain.
She knew her life was now set. She was his and would be forever. What she argued for she argued for others… not for herself. And she argued for him. She wanted to see his life improved as well. She knew he despised working for a man like his brother… despised the things he had to do… the lives he had to waste as he pursued senseless wars. Power-mongering wars.
He constantly hoped this battle or that battle would finally be enough. That they would finally have expanded their borders enough to satisfy his brother. But in reality he knew that it wasn’t going to be that way. Ever. His brother would never be satisfied.
Valerian made his way to the courtyard in the cold light of a new morning. Sitting there was his empty stallion, and waiting patiently beside it, on a sturdy bay mare and wrapped warmly in furs, was Melena. He could only see her eyes, the lower part of her face covered by furs. If he expected to see fear in those eyes, he was doing so in vain. She wasn’t afraid, even though she had every right to be.
She had the most powerful man in the most powerful country seeking her death, and yet she wasn’t afraid. Perhaps it was because she had so much faith in him that he would protect her. It was humbling to think so. He had, as yet, given her very little reason to trust him. That she was doing so simply floored him.
He glanced beyond her to the two horses standing beside hers. He saw the warm eyes of Hassa amongst the furs of one of the riders, and the calculating eyes of Daria in the other. He could see Hassa was very curious about what had compelled him to ask for her accompaniment. She had not left the safety and comfort of the harem for many years.
It would be a hard ride for three women who were not used to such rigors, though he suspected Melena was more used to horseback than they were. She certainly kept her seat well enough, looking comfortable and at home in her saddle. He mounted and with a pull on his reins he guided the horse ahead of the women and out of the fortress.
As they went at a moderate pace, Hassa and Daria fell behind them and Melena kept to his side. Good. That was where he wanted her. Right where he could keep an eye on her at all times. There were by far no guarantees that they were safe… that she was safe.
He was as safe as it got. Although Vicktor thinking the words of a woman might sway Valerian’s loyalties proved that he did not trust Valerian. And Vicktor did terrible things to those he did not trust. It would be wise of Valerian to think carefully about what his next move would be. It could be that Vicktor would force his hand. If Vicktor went after him directly, he would have no choice but to act for his own self-preservation.
To that end he should see his entire harem removed from the fortress. If Vicktor turned on him he would do so by going after those he cared about the most. Those he would feel deserved his protection. But to remove the harem would be an overt act. Vicktor would see it for the withdrawal that it was.
Of course he could simply move his entire household to one of the lesser palaces. These were dotted all over the Jorku nation, and it wasn’t all that unusual for him to move his household from one to another with differing seasons.
But they usually wintered in the fortress. It would be very obvious that Valerian was conducting a methodical act of withdrawal in preparation for acting against his brother… or at least in preparation for getting them out of Vicktor’s immediate reach.
No. He would leave them be for now. It was safest for them at present. He would remove them only when he had no other choice.
But he was thinking about removing them, he realized. Which meant he was thinking about acting against his brother.
Valerian growled again in frustration. Melena heard the sound and looked at him. She cocked up a curious brow, then reached to pull the furs away from her mouth so she could be heard clearly.
“Is something wrong, Sir?” she asked.
“I have many thoughts on my mind,” he said dismissively.
“Perhaps you would like to talk about those thoughts that trouble you?”
“I would like to quiet them,” he snapped. “I would like for them to not exist at all!”
“You do not strike me as the sort of man who would bury his head to hide from the realities of the world.”
“No, I am not. But that does not mean I don’t sometimes wish I could.”
“I wish I could be free. But I have come to realize that will never happen.”
“Your mind is free. Your thoughts are your own. I only ask for your body and your loyalty… only one of which you have given me so far.”
“I cannot simply say I will be loyal to you. You would not believe me.”
“You’re right. I would not. Perhaps someday I might enjoy that luxury, but that day is not today.”
“I am sorry,” she said with genuine sympathy.
“For what?” he asked, one brow hiking up in curiosity.
“I am sorry you have no one to trust. I can see why you wish for loyalty so very badly. It must be very difficult to be all alone in the world with no one to depend on but yourself. I have known that loneliness. Once I was captured and brought here as a slave, I knew I could depend on no one but myself. I should have remembered that. I should not have spoken my thoughts so freely in front of others.”
He shook his head. “You should live in a world where you can speak your mind without worrying about every word and every act. We all should.”
“That will never happen as long as your brother is in power.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he barked.
“I think it is becoming more and more clear to you. And I think that is a good thing.”
Valerian frowned. He should feel as though he was being manipulated, because he had no doubt that he was. But for some reason that did not necessarily feel like a bad thing. Perhaps he was in need of a little manipulation. Perhaps he needed someone to point him in the right direction.
Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps.
Valerian pulled furs up over the lower part of his face, protecting it from the cold and sealing off his ability to speak. She took his lead and did the same. She did not press him. She did not pressure him. She simply stated things as she saw them and let him work it through on his own. He respected that about her.
But listening to her came with a price.
He needed to decide if that was a price he was willing to pay.
Jacquelyn Frank
Jacquelyn lives in the Western North Carolina mountain area around Asheville. After a lifetime of striving to be good enough to be published, she has enjoyed the many blessings her fans have rained on her with their loyalty over the years. With four sisters and other family scattered up and down the Eastern Seaboard, and a history of living all across the USA herself, she still always finds ways to give a nod to her native New York in her work.
Jacquelyn lives with her three “
children,” a trio of domestic shorthaired cats whose personalities have often inspired aspects of her characters. A former sign language interpreter and substitute teacher, she is a powerful advocate of reading and writing. She is known for her persistent gifts of books to her nieces and nephews, as well as all the other children in her life, in an effort to see them love both as much as she does. She believes there is nothing more rewarding than the imagination and all it inspires, and nothing more tragic than illiteracy.
Feel free to contact her at jackifrankwrites@gmail.com or visit her website at jacquelynfrank.com and follow her on facebook.com/authorjacquelynfrank and twitter.com/JacquelynFrank.
Jackie’s Changeling Page: changelingpress.com/author.php?uid=206.