by H Q Kingsley
Avi rolled his eyes, standing up with his hands planted on the table. “Yeah, and then we open ourselves up to letting them walk all over us. We're in charge, Zyke. We're the royal fucking family. They basically belong to us, and it's time we reminded them of that.”
“We could just shut down their businesses,” Ellis suggested. “Burn them all to the ground and leave the owners with nothing. That'll teach them to complain.”
“Or we send more soldiers. Show them that killing a few of our men doesn't mean anything because there are always more.”
They went around and around like that, each of my brothers coming up with increasingly hostile ways to get back at the people for daring to show their displeasure.
“What if—” I ventured and was immediately talked over by Ezra, who suggested sending dissenters to work camps so they would really have something to complain about.
I was used to it, really. That was how basically every family meeting went. Nothing I said was taken seriously, and my brothers fought over who could be the most brutal for the amusement of our father.
Sometimes it bothered me, but most of the time I was able to push that hurt to the back of my mind and focus on something else.
But Omar was around now, and that made it harder to sit there and listen while they mocked and belittled me because he was also listening to it. There was no way he could listen to them divulge how pathetic I was and not start treating me differently.
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, wondering what he must think of me. He was a military man, one of the Belarian rebels, so maybe he agreed that violence was the best answer.
Maybe he also thought I was weak and was just better at hiding it.
Glancing at him gave nothing away. He might as well have been a statue, standing there at the door with his back straight and his hands clasped like he wasn't even listening to the conversation going on.
Eventually, I'd had enough, and I excused myself, even though by that point, no one was paying me any attention. I slipped out of the room and went down the hall and up the stairs to the palace library, which was where I would spend all of my time if I was allowed.
Judging from the soft footsteps behind me, Omar was following like he always did.
The library was big and beautiful, which always surprised me, considering most of my brothers couldn’t read. Maybe it was a status thing, just wanting to brag about having something so fine even if it wasn't being used for much. Or maybe somewhere further back in our family line, someone else had been soft and quiet and liked to read.
Either way, I loved to wander through the shelves and drag my fingers along the spines of old books, inhaling the scent of paper and ink and reading the titles, wondering what each one had in store for me.
A lot of things were digital for simplicity in our lives, but there was nothing better than the weight of a thick book, in my opinion.
I wandered for a bit until I found something interesting, a book of myths and fables that I'd been working my way through. I settled with it into one of the armchairs, propping Teddy up in the seat across from me before I cracked it open, watching as Omar took up his post nearby.
I'd been expecting him to just stand there silently like he usually did, but to my surprise, he decided to speak.
“Do you ever get out of this place for anything other than mandatory functions?” he asked.
I shook my head, my fingers tracing the page. “No. People outside of the palace like me just about as much as the people inside of it.” I let him figure out what I meant by that. If he'd been paying attention at all during that meeting, he'd understand. “I'm better off just staying in here, finding a corner with a book, and trying to stay out of the way.”
Something flashed through his dark eyes, but it was gone before I could work out what it was. Anger? Pity? Agitation? I wasn't sure, but it was a change from the usual stoic and disinterested look he wore. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, though.
“Alright, get up,” he said, pushing off from the wall he'd been leaning against. “I could use a drink after that shit show of a meeting, and I'm sure you could, too.”
Gods, he had been listening. As much as he'd never seemed like he was judging me, I couldn't stop thinking about how similar Omar was to the rest of my family. He'd probably agreed with everything they'd said about how weak and pathetic I was. He was gorgeous and muscular, a military man himself. And he was normal. He liked to go out and see things and do things. He knew how to be a person.
And all I did was keep him cooped up in the palace, watching and following me from room to room while I read or hid from my brothers.
He probably hated me and wished I'd do him a favor and grow a spine, too.
I wouldn't blame him if he hated me as much as the rest of the world did. Even if he did, my father was paying him well enough that he wouldn't say anything about it.
I hung my head and those thoughts got louder and louder until they started to drown out everything else. It was hard to bear, and I kind of just wanted to go hide in my room where I wouldn't have to look at him and feel like such a disappointment, but suddenly a drink sounded like a good idea.
If it was for drowning sorrows, gods knew I had plenty of them.
“Sure,” I said, my voice soft. “I could use a drink, probably.”
I got up and pulled my phone from my pocket so I could call the driver to bring the car around, but Omar stepped in front of me before I could.
“Don't call your fancy driver,” he said, making a face. “I know a good bar outside the capital, and we can just shift and run through the woods to get there.”
My heart raced at the very idea, and I gripped Teddy and my phone tightly, swallowing hard.
I didn't shift very much. It was something all of us could do, of course, and I knew my brothers did it every chance they could get, showing off how big and powerful their lions were.
But I hadn't done it since I was a child, and my brothers had left me in tears when they'd spent an entire afternoon making fun of how weak and small my lion was compared to theirs.
Even my father had gotten in on it, scolding me for being slow and pathetic, calling me an embarrassment and making sure I knew that when my brothers were my age, they were ten times better than me.
Since then, I'd been too ashamed to shift, not wanting to bring on that kind of ridicule again. And the last thing I wanted was for Omar to see it because I knew he'd be like them. He'd be big and strong and fast, and I would just look scrawny and worthless next to him.
I couldn't do it, and just the thought of it had that cold dread seeping into my stomach, making me feel like my head was spinning as I tried to focus on my breathing.
“We can't,” I said quickly. “It's illegal. To...to shift in an unsanctioned area.”
To my surprise, Omar laughed. He didn’t do it often, and the sound of it vibrated through my entire body. Even if he was mocking me, gods, I loved the sound of his laugh.
“You're a prince,” he said. “One of the perks is you can do whatever the fuck you want. So let's go.” He started lifting the hem of his shirt like he was going to shift right there in the middle of the library, and my panic kicked into overdrive.
I was going to have to tell him the truth, apparently.
“I don't want to shift in front of you,” I blurted, and I hated how reedy and pathetic my voice sounded. I had a tight grip on Teddy, and I kept my eyes trained on the floor, not wanting to look at Omar's face.
Something compelled me to glance up anyway, though, and there was a look on his face that I didn't understand. He was so hard to read, and I couldn't tell if he was hurt or upset, but I didn't want that. It wasn't his fault I was such a mess.
“I'm just…” I sighed, rubbing at my face with my free hand. “My lion isn't...I'm small. And slow,” I admitted. “And I don't think I could keep up with you because I'm willing to bet your lion isn't either of those things.”
My face was red agai
n, I just knew it. I could feel a burning blush work its way all the way up to my ears and that only compounded the embarrassment, so my eyes slid to the floor once more, and I waited for Omar to laugh at me or call me pathetic.
“Okay,” he finally said, surprising me. “We'll drive then,” he finished, his tone still in that same flat unbias as though it didn't matter to him one way or the other.
I was stunned for a second, so surprised that he'd let it go like that when everyone else in my life would have taken it as an opportunity to make fun of me until I left in defeat. But the relief followed quickly enough, and I let out a slow breath, finally able to relax just a bit.
“Okay,” I echoed. “I'll call the car.”
“Look,” Omar said, folding his arms. “Nothing against your driver or whatever, but I've got some issues with this royal treatment and not being able to go anywhere without having an escort. If we're going to drive, then we can drive ourselves.”
I blinked. I didn't think I'd ever been anywhere without a driver, but if that was what Omar wanted, and he wasn't going to harass me about not wanting to shift, then I would make it happen.
So I led him out of the library and down to the garage.
We called it a garage, but it was really more like a showroom. All of the fancy vehicles my father and brothers had collected for the palace were displayed there, shiny and well-maintained. There was a team of servants whose only jobs were to keep the vehicles clean and serviced so that whenever one of us wanted to go anywhere, any of the cars or trucks would be ready and available.
There was always someone on call to drive, no matter the time of day or night, and that was just one of the perks of being a prince, as Omar had put it.
“Holy shit,” Omar said, walking down the line of cars.
I just shrugged. “Pick one,” I told him.
I couldn't tell if he was impressed or disgusted with the excess of it all, and one day I was going to hopefully be better at reading him.
When he pointed to a black car that was the least ostentatious in the line, I went hunting for the key on the wall and then passed it to him.
Omar laughed again, low and warm. It wasn't the laugh of ridicule that I got from my family, but something kind and soft like velvet, and I was starting to realize that I was beginning to crave the sound of it.
He passed the key back to me. “I can't drive. I've never had a car, and the only thing I had to learn to drive to fight for Belaria was a tank. And even then I never had to actually drive one.”
Once again, I could feel those nerves rising, and thank gods for Teddy, who I clutched like my lifeline. “I can't drive, either,” I said. No one had ever taught me how.
“I bet you can,” Omar said, smiling a little. “I've seen you read sixteen books in as many days, Zyke. You're smart as hell, and if you can figure out how to deal with your asshole family for nineteen years, then I'm pretty damned sure you can conquer something as simple as a car.”
My eyes went wide, and I just stood there for a long moment, probably looking stupid. But I was stunned. For one, no one had ever just...paid me a compliment before. Just like that. Like it was common knowledge. For another, no one had ever called my family assholes before, either. Except for me, in the privacy of my own head. And third, I hadn't realized Omar was paying that close attention to me. I knew he was watching, but there was a difference between keeping an eye out and knowing how many books I went through in a week.
It was a lot to process, and it was a bit before I shook myself out of my own head and smiled shyly. “Thank you,” I said. “For the compliment.”
Omar just shrugged and gestured to the car, clearly unaware of just how much his words had affected me.
I looked at the car in a new light. Before, I'd just been terrified at the thought of driving it, but with Omar's words in my head, I thought maybe there was a chance I could do it.
I opened the door and slid behind the wheel, waiting for Omar to join me on the passenger's side.
There was something unfamiliar in me...was this what confidence felt like? Just a little bit, a tiny shred of self-belief. It was a completely new feeling, but it was a nice change.
Swallowing hard, I surveyed what was in front of me, taking stock of the steering wheel and the pedals. A car was just a machine, and I could figure that out.
I put the key in the ignition and cranked it, my heart pounding. When the car flared to life, rumbling as it started up, I let out a soft laugh of triumph, and Omar whooped and clapped.
“There you go,” he said, grinning broadly at me. “I knew you could do it.”
I felt like I could coast on his praise and encouragement forever like it actually nourished me somehow, and I managed to get the car in drive and take us out of the garage, feeling warm and pleased in a way I never had before.
7
Omar
I'd pretty much been banking on Zyke being a better driver than he thought he was, and even though the ride to the bar was shaky as hell, we got there in one piece. He'd done better than I probably could have, all things considered, and he'd smiled at me. A shy and pleased smile that made warmth swell in my chest.
“Thank you,” he whispered after he’d finally managed to park a decent distance away from the other cars in the lot, just in case.
“For what? You got us here,” I said with a grin. When he smiled at me, I couldn't help but smile back. It was so rare to see him look anything other than afraid or defeated, and there was a part of me that wanted to encourage him to keep trying new things.
“I know,” he said, dropping his gaze. He always did. It was so hard to get him to actually look at me. “Just...thank you anyway.”
He quickly climbed out of the car before I could respond, and I followed suit.
The bar I'd directed us to was the very definition of a dive. It was dingy and small, with nothing more than a few tables and chairs for seating, as well as a water-ring-stained bar with some stools pulled up to it.
An old TV hung on the wall behind the bar, and there was a pool table that looked older than I was in one corner, a few patrons gathered around it having a game.
It was the kind of place someone only came to when they were looking to drink their sorrows away, which was why I knew it. I felt comfortable in places like that, having worked my way through more than a few of them in Belaria.
Zyke, on the other hand, looked uncomfortable and out of place. He was holding himself stiffly, clutching at his bear, and glancing around every few seconds like he thought someone was going to attack him.
Considering he had been attacked recently, I wondered if I'd overstepped being so casual with him and should have taken him to a nicer place where he might fit in better. If that was even possible.
He followed me to a little table in the back, and I watched him train his eyes on the floor, although all there was to see down there was his shoes sticking to the filthy boards, littered with bottle caps and all manner of other little scraps.
Every step was loud enough that I could hear it, and I made a face, really doubting this choice. If something happened, it would be completely my fault for dragging him out of his comfort zone and into a place like this bar when I could have just let him stay in the palace and read like he'd wanted to.
Finally I sighed. “Hey, we can go somewhere else if you want,” I offered. It was supposed to be about unwinding after that shitty meeting with his family, not stressing him out more.
Zyke's head popped up and he met my eyes for the first time since we'd gotten in the car.
There was something amazing about him looking me in the eye. It happened rarely enough that it was always kind of a surprise, and I loved being able to see how bright that ring of gold was around the honey-brown of his eyes.
“Oh, no,” Zyke said, smiling a little, even though he still looked nervous. “I've just...never been to a bar before.”
I lifted an eyebrow in surprise. I'd been sneaking out to bars with Chase since w
e were twelve-year-old, and it was second nature to find one wherever I was these days.
I was willing to bet that every single one of Zyke's brothers knew their way around a bar, too, but it made sense in a way for this to be Zyke's first time.
“Well, okay, then,” I said, shrugging a shoulder. “Glad to pop your cherry for this kind of thing.”
His cheeks went red at the way I said that, and it was a good look for him, so I just smiled and watched as he hoisted himself up onto the stool.
It was tall enough, or he was short enough, that his legs dangled, not even close to reaching the floor, and with his bear in his arms and that shy look on his face, he was so damned cute, I had to look away from him before I did...something.
There wasn't anything wrong with being small, and it worked for him, so it pissed me off that he'd been made to feel like it was practically a crime. I was disappointed that he'd been too upset to show me his lion, honestly.
I was willing to bet it was just as endearing as he was.
“You wait here,” I said. “I'll get us some drinks to start with.”
He nodded, his eyes still pretty wide as he glanced around, and I made my way over to the bar, already feeling more relaxed in an environment like that than I was in the palace.
There wasn't a huge crowd by the bar, and it was only a matter of seconds before the bartender was passing someone else a drink and moving to stand in front of me, but before I could order, I noticed he was glancing over in Zyke's direction with something like a scowl on his face.
I supposed he was underaged, and pretty obviously at that, but most places like this didn't really give a shit as long as the money was good. I'd definitely never been carded in a seedy bar before, and I was willing to bet Eastola had the same kind of lax rules.
