by Sean Michael
Lem knew it wasn’t his place to allow or not allow the captain to stay with Anselle, but he wished to beg for forgiveness in private. “If I can have a few minutes first please, Captain.”
“If you wish to keep him company, you have the right. You were his trainee.”
Yes, and he had failed his master. He wasn’t sure he had any rights left. He inclined his head to the captain, waiting until the man had left before turning back to Anselle and bowing his head low.
“Please, Master, I beg your forgiveness for failing you.” Lem knew he didn’t deserve it, but, nonetheless, he had to ask.
“Failing me? Pshaw. You saved the palace. You sounded the alarm.”
“But you’re dying.” Lem should have gotten Anselle safely behind closed doors before leaving to sound the bell. And he should have been earlier to sound it, as well.
“Everything dies, my boy.”
“Not because of me!”
“No.” Anselle gave him a stern look. “Not because of you. Because we were attacked.”
“I should have done more, Master. I failed your training.” He had failed in so many different ways.
“Nonsense. I have never been so proud.” Anselle reached out for him.
Lem took Anselle’s hand, willing his Master to draw on his strength.
“My heart son. You will be the best of my legacy.”
Oh, Anselle’s heart son. It was the biggest honor Lem could dream of being bestowed.
“I will not fail you again, Master. I swear it.”
“You have never failed me. Not once since you hatched.”
The words made his eyes fill with tears.
“Master, please. Don’t leave me.”
“I could never leave you. My training lives within you.”
Lem held on tightly to Ansell’s hand. “I will make you proud, Master. I swear it.”
“I love you, my son.”
The tears began to spill from Lem’s cheeks. He bent his head over Ansell’s hand, kissed it.
“Master...” He wanted to beg Anselle not to die, but he knew it would make no difference. The poison had ravaged his Master’s body.
The dragon sighed softly. Then the huge heart stopped beating, the magical spirit filling the room with Anselle’s final rush of presence.
Lem closed his eyes and breathed his Master in, the tears pouring down his cheeks.
***
Jules woke a ten day after Mabon passed. He went from the hospital to his quarters, refusing to speak, to eat. Nothing. His heart was broken, and his body ached.
There was a knock at his door, then it opened, the captain of the guard coming in.
“Your bodyguard is here, Your Highness.”
He stared, his heart pounding furiously. What? What? His Mabon lived?
The captain stepped aside, and a tall, broad man with a square face, who was definitely not Mabon, walked in.
The man came up to him and stopped abruptly. “Lem, reporting for duty, Your Highness.”
No. No, this was not Mabon. Jules stood up and opened his door, pointed to the hall. No.
“I will not leave unless you do, sire.”
“He is yours, Highness,” the captain told him. “Your father has ordered it.” With that the captain bowed and left, closing the door behind him.
Jules shook his head, then turned to his bedroom. No. No. Mabon was his guard. Before he could close the door behind him, Lem was through it, right at his heels. He shook his head, shoved the man away. No. Lem stepped back next to him.
“I am your bodyguard, whether you wish it or not.”
“My bodyguard is Mabon.” His voice was destroyed, raw.
“I am sorry, sire. Truly.”
“Go. Please.” He needed peace. Silence. Mabon.
“I cannot.” Lem stood, hands at his sides, back straight.
Jules crept back into the shadows, curled into the bedding, and hid. He would stay in his nest, lest he burned anyone else. Lem moved to stand next to his nest, silent and tall.
The only safe space in all the world was gone.
Nonetheless, silent and still, Lem remained.
Chapter Three
Lem was worried about the prince. Jules didn’t sleep. He didn’t eat. He didn’t do anything but lie in his bed. Lem knew how to defend Jules from outside threats. He did not know how to defend the prince from himself.
The little prince was never cruel. He barely spoke, he barely moved. Lem had been told that Jules used to spend most of his time reading, staying in his suite with his bodyguard Mabon.
Lem, of course, knew Mabon—all the bodyguards knew each other by sight—but not very well. The strong dragon had been older and had had more training than Lem currently did when he’d been called to the prince’s side almost two hundred years ago.
Lem knew they were very big wings indeed that he had to fill. He also knew, without question, that the blame would fall upon him should Jules die. And rightly so. He was the prince’s protector. He just wasn’t sure how he could protect Jules from himself, for surely that was what the danger was at this time. It made Lem think. What would Mabon have done?
There was a private courtyard off of Jules’ rooms, meant solely for the prince’s pleasure. Lem knew that no one else was allowed back there, not even gardeners. The area was completely cut off from the rest of the castle by high, windowless walls, and the only entrance was through the door in Jules’ quarters. Perhaps a little air, a change of scenery would be good. Decided, Lem went to Jules, the prince still curled up in his nest as he had been earlier this morning. And yesterday, and the day before that, and the week before that, since Lem had been here.
“Your Highness, let’s go out to the courtyard. I can hear the fountain, but have never seen it.”
Jules looked at him for a moment, the green eyes beautiful, if so sad. One slender hand waved as if to say, “go.”
Grunting, Lem girded his loins against his own training, which said he didn’t do this, that he was never to touch the prince if he could avoid it. He bent, picking Jules right up out of his nest.
“What?” Jules sputtered.
Dragons needed sustenance, sunlight. They needed it. Lem clung to that thought and stayed the course.
“We are going to the courtyard.”
He didn’t put Jules down. The prince would probably curl back up in his nest, or possibly find a nook or cranny to hide in, and Lem was not having that. He was taking his prince into the sunlight, even if it meant he was disobeying his prince’s wishes. His job was to protect and defend.
When Lem pushed through the door into the courtyard, he gasped as the sunshine touched his skin. It had been days. Days. He could feel it, energizing him, warming him. He had been so busy worrying about the prince, he’d forgotten his own need for the warm touch.
He wanted to close his eyes and bask, but he didn’t. As private as this space was, that didn’t mean impenetrable. There was still the air, and he was no longer guarding the door from Jules’ quarters. So he kept his eyes open, stayed aware, and walked toward the lovely fountain that had pride of place in the center of the surprisingly roomy courtyard.
“Can you feel the sunshine in your bones?” he asked even though he knew Jules could, the dull sheen on Jules’ skin already beginning to warm, to take on a hint of vitality.
It was obvious to Lem that he had done the right thing. Master Anselle had always told him to follow his gut. Worried as it had made him, he had. He sent a silent prayer of thanks and love to his teacher. Every lesson, no matter how strange or hard or simple, was proving to be useful in the guardianship of his charge.
Prince Jules lifted his face to the sun, the motion simple, instinctual. It gave Lem his first real look at the prince’s face.
Unlike the thickset, heavy dragons that made up Lem’s caste, Jules had the delicate, gentle features of the ruling class. Perhaps the most beautiful features Lem had ever seen. The sadness in them did not dim Jules’ beauty in the least.
Lem let himself memorize the fine cheekbones, the long, slender nose. He imagined Jules’ dragon would be quite small, but perfectly formed. He’d never seen a royal in dragon form, but had heard that their scales were impossibly beautiful.
Moving to the fountain, he took in the form of the tree that was in the center of it, water pouring from its boughs. Such wonderful magic!
“My mother formed this for me.” Words, actual words, offered freely. This was indeed a magical spot.
“It’s beautiful. Is the water healing?” Lem asked as he sat on the bench that wound its way around the fountain.
Jules nodded. “But it cannot heal me.”
“Why not?” Lem would not touch the water until he was sure it was not poisonous, and he would only then taste it to make sure that it would not harm his prince.
“My heart is broken. They killed my friend.” Jules’ words were so softly spoken.
“I am sorry, my prince.” Lem would take all of Jules’ pain on himself, if he could. After all, it was because of him that the Graithen had breached the palace’s safeguards.
“It’s all my fault. All of it.” There was such pain in Jules’ voice.
“No, my prince.” Lem hung his head. “It is my fault.” He hadn’t been fast enough in sounding the alarm. He hadn’t been strong enough to keep the intruders from the castle.
“They came for me,” Jules insisted.
“But I didn’t figure it out soon enough, what the buzz was. I was too slow to sound the alarm.” Lem would not let his prince take this upon himself. Perhaps neither of them could hold their heads up.
Lem held onto Jules tightly. He would not fail again. No one would hurt his charge. Never. He would defend Jules for an eternity.
Reaching for the water, he cupped his hand and let it fill. It tasted sweet upon his tongue, and he knew that it was pure and safe. So he refilled his hand and held it to Jules’ lips.
“Drink, my prince.”
Jules shook his head once, but nonetheless opened up. Lem poured the water into Jules’ mouth, pleased when his prince swallowed. Maybe the water couldn’t heal what was wrong with Jules’ heart, but, at least this way, Jules was staying hydrated and his body could be stronger.
Jules blinked at Lem and licked the water from his lips.
“How does it taste?” Lem asked, hoping the flavor of it had been the same for Jules as it had been to him.
“Sweet.” Jules met Lem’s gaze, the sorrow pouring off him. “You don’t have to be kind to me.”
“I’m not.” He did not act out of kindness, but out of a need to have Jules happy, well, whole.
“Okay.”
“Will you eat something?” Lem hoped that coming out and drinking some of the healing water would have stimulated Jules’ appetite.
Jules sighed and shook his head. “I shouldn’t. Mabon cannot eat.”
“Mabon is dead, my prince. And it would hurt him if he knew you were suffering.” Lem could say with some confidence that Mabon would be horrified to think that the prince was not eating because of him.
Jules’ bottom lip settled in a stiff line. “Mabon died for me.”
“Mabon died because the Graithen tried to take you. This is their fault, not yours.”
Even as Lem said the words, he had to hear them in his master’s voice. Perhaps if he told Jules enough times, he would believe it himself. It was worth a try, yes? Especially if it eased Jules’ soul.
“It isn’t your fault,” he said again before collecting more of the water in his hand and offering Jules another drink. Perhaps there was a fruit-bearing tree out here as well, and he could entice some actual food into his prince.
Jules shook his head, pulling his cloak around him to hide. Lem touched his wet fingers to Jules’ lips, letting a few drops wet them. The prince’s tongue lapped them up, instinctively, and Lem placed more drops on Jules’ lips, encouraging the lapping.
Jules looked nearly hypnotized, tongue moving restlessly, randomly.
The urge to lick Jules’ lips hit him. Lem straightened and looked across the courtyard, making his face a mask. What was wrong with him? He should not even think such a thing, not even for a fleeting moment.
Jules stiffened and slipped from his arms, heading back to the dark rooms. Lem followed, of course, it was his duty, but he feared he had offended Jules with his unexpected desire. Had his prince known his thoughts?
“You can stay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. I just want to sleep.” Jules’ words were dull.
Lem didn’t understand. He had been the one to offend, had he not? “You did not offend me, my prince. You could not.”
Jules didn’t answer. He just hid himself away beneath the covers, not even his nose poking out from them.
Len sighed, but, even so, he felt that today must be counted as a victory. His prince had spoken, had drunk some healing water, and had felt the touch of the sun’s rays. Tomorrow, there would be food. He would make that happen.
***
Jules hid under his covers with a light, reading a book about demons that destroyed all they touch. His vision was blurry, his head felt so heavy. Even his books were failing to bring him the joy they used to. He missed his reading companion, so much that it felt like there was a hole in his heart.
“My prince. It is time for us to go into the garden.” Lem had carried him out to the courtyard for the last three days in a row.
Jules found himself looking forward to the little outing, found himself actually eager for company.
The covers lifted gently from around him, and Lem held out a hand. Jules found himself reaching out, meeting the touch. Lem gave him a pleased look, fingers wrapping around his and pulling him upright. He stood on trembling legs, allowed himself to be pulled close to Lem’s strong body.
“Can you walk?”
He knew Lem would carry him if he didn’t have the strength, but he hated to be a bother. “I can.” For a bit, anyway.
“Very good. I want to see if the apple tree has any fruit that is ready.” Lem had discovered the apple tree yesterday and had been quite excited about it.
“You do not need wait for me. Mabon had full run of the space.” His quarters were as much his bodyguard’s as his own, after all. As long as he was in residence, so was his guard.
“I must keep you safe, my prince,” Lem insisted.
They went out, and the sun’s rays hit Jules, warming him immediately. His face turned to the sun, his body relaxing. He wasn’t sure it was right for him to enjoy such a simple pleasure, but he supposed there was only Lem who would know. He was the worthless child, his father had always been clear on this point, and none of his royal siblings had come to see him, at all, after his attack. Not one. Nor had he been sent for as he sometimes was.
Lem put his hand onto one strong arm and walked him to the fruit tree. “Look! One is ready!” Lem plucked it from the branch and offered it to him.
“You should have it.” It would be sweet, delicious. Lem would appreciate it far more than he would, he wagered.
“Oh, no, my prince. It’s yours.” Lem blushed suddenly. “After I have tested it, of course.”
Jules nodded and sat on one of the marble benches that dotted the courtyard.
Lem took a bite, the apple ripe enough that juice dribbled from the corner of his mouth. Then Lem came to sit with him. “We will wait a few minutes and make sure there is no poison hidden within the fruit.”
“There will be no poison here.”
No one who intended him hard could see this space. As he understood it, even the courtyard was not visible from the air, the magics woven tightly around his quarters. Jules wondered sometimes if they hid him from everyone within the palace, as well as those without.
“I cannot trust anyone or anything when it comes to your safety, my prince.”
“No one cares.” So what did it matter?
“I care.” Lem’s answer was fierce. “I care. And clearly I am not the only one a
s the green lizards came for you. They tried to take you!”
“They did.” Jules wore the marks on his palms, and he obviously carried an evil magic within him.
“There must have been a reason. There is something special about you. I mean, of course there is, you are my prince!” Lem exclaimed.
“I’m defective.” It was the only answer.
Lem looked shocked at his words. “No! No, my prince, you are perfect.”
Jules shrugged and closed his eyes. He knew better, and Lem was trained to believe that he was special. It didn’t make it so.
“I haven’t died yet,” Lem said after a few moments of silence, regarding the apple as if it would respond to him.
“You haven’t.” Was that a laugh? Had he really laughed? Jules could scarce believe it.
Smiling, Lem handed over the apple. “Then this is for you.”
“We could share,” Jules offered.
Lem’s eyes went wide once again. “But it’s yours.”
“Ours.” He could insist.
“Yes, my prince.” Lem still held out the apple. “You first.”
Which was funny, actually, because there was a bite out of the apple already from when Lem had tested it for him. He felt his lips pull up in a smile and was somewhat amazed. A laugh and a smile. Was his bodyguard bewitching him?
Jules took the fruit, the scent of it heady—tart and sweet and floral—and it made his mouth water and his stomach twist with how empty it was.
“Eat, Your Highness,” Lem insisted.
Jules took a bite, the flavor exploding on his tongue. It was everything the scent had promised, tart and sweet and juicy. Lem smiled, and when Jules had swallowed, Lem put the fruit to his lips again. He shook his head when the fruit was offered yet again after his second bite. Lem had promised to share with him.
Nodding his understanding, Lem took another bite from the apple. Watching Lem eat was not the same at all as watching Mabon. Watching Lem made Jules blush.
“I have never tasted anything as good as this,” Lem noted.
“The tree only grows here. My mother’s tribe brought it as a wedding gift.” The courtyard itself had been his mother’s idea, and everything in it reminded him of her.
