A Good Enemy (Bloodlines #5)

Prologue

The Royal Palace of Herkos on the planet Laltana.

Taran, the adopted son of Prince Larz and his consort Janos

“Do you really think Larz will refuse to comply with King Davos’s demands to demobilize our Laltanan Royal Guard, Majesty? Or will he refuse and finally rebel against him?”

I had just come into my adoptive father’s room and plopped down next to the former king on the lounge where he was reading. I landed too hard. and it jarred my head, which was aching so much I could barely see. I squinted over at him as he looked inquiringly up at me.

“Those are very different questions, Taran. My answer is yes. But then again, no, certainly not.”

“Well. that clears it right up. Gods, Majesty, please don’t confuse me. My head is pounding.”

Janos put down his book to reach over and straighten my harness strap, which was twisted a little on my shoulder.

I’d gotten dressed in a hurry that morning when I’d woken up and found myself lying across a strange bed in the guards’ barracks, naked and staring up at the ceiling, trying to figure out where the hells I was.

The party there the night before had been wild, and perhaps I’d had a bit too much to drink.

One thing had led to another, and I remembered there had been dancing at some point.

Now I had blinding headache from way too much visu punch.

I also had no doubt that my eyes were bloodshot.

I was also barefoot, because I’d taken off my boots to dance and still hadn’t been able to find them, though I’d searched everywhere; and now I was in serious danger of losing my mind if Janos didn’t just give me a fucking straight answer.

“Where are your shoes, dear? How did you let yourself get in such a state?” Janos asked, forestalling me, and I let my head fall back on the sofa.

“Well, if I knew that…” I huffed out a breath and tried again. Janos was even-tempered, but he was still a former king, and people just didn’t speak to him any old way they pleased. Not and live to tell about it, if Larz, aka, Prince Larz, heard about it.

“I’d hoped they were in here. They’re my new boots.

” I may have whined a little on that last part, but they were beautiful and the traders had charged me way too much for them.

I’d known that, of course, but as soon as I’d seen them gleaming in the marketplace with all that shiny, tooled black leather that only came from Earthan traders, I knew I had to have them.

Someone must have stolen them from me after I passed out—I mean, fell asleep—but I had held out a slim hope that I’d left them here in the palace when I got ready for the party here the night before.

No such luck. Now I’d have to go back to the barracks, raise hell and put the fear of the gods into everyone there until whoever took them confessed.

And right at this moment, my head hurt too much to even consider it.

I glared at the former king of Laltana, because what the hells was he talking about, yes and no? He had taken me in when I was pretty young, and I was crazy about him, even if he was taking his sweet time to explain that cryptic little comment, when I was so near death from this damn hangover.

“Majesty,” I whined at him. “I really don’t feel well, so please try to answer me. “Will Larz refuse to comply with his father?”

He tilted his head to think about it, smiling because I’d called him “Majesty.” It was an old pet name I still used for him sometimes, even though he hadn’t been a king for a long time.

“I think so. He usually ignores orders from Tygeria, you know. But yes, I think he’ll refuse. Will he go so far as to rebel against his father? Not a chance, I think. He’s far too loyal for all that.”

I made a little growling sound, because my head hurt and his voice was so loud, and he was talking in circles.

“Omak, please stop. And excuse me sir, but there’s no need for all this shouting. I’m trying to understand—what will he do? Will he or won’t he get rid of our royal guard?”

“I’m trying to answer you, Taran. And the only one shouting here is you. I don’t see how I’m being at all unclear. Did you have a bit too much to drink last night by any chance, honey?”

He called me things like that—“honey,” and “dear,” and other human sounding words. Larz had taught him those words. No one else had ever called Janos pet names, so those were the only ones he knew. Larz got them from Blake, his human omak, of course.

“Look, Luc was saying last night that the Tygerians had given Larz an ‘ultimatum’ to do away with the Royal Guard. Is that right? And what does that mean? What is an ultimatum anyway? Luc was trying to explain it to me, but I don’t think he really knew, and besides, my friend Akeen got into an argument with another one of the guards in the middle of his explanation and one of them threw a punch and they started fighting, so I had to go over to break it up, and I really don’t remember much after that. ”

“Mm-hmm. I think there’s far too much fighting in that group.

Not to mention drinking. I told Larz he needs to put a stop to it before it gets anymore out of hand.

This is what comes of making Lucas Dimitri, of all people, a general in the Royal Guard and putting him in charge of everyday operations.

I told Larz that Luc is entirely unsuitable, but does he listen? ”

I found myself shaking my head to go along, because it was just easier.

But that jarred my head and made my headache worse, so I winced and stopped moving around so much.

I slid off the couch and inched toward the door to leave.

Lucas Dimitri was a human ex-slave, who was indeed a general in the Royal Guard, mostly because he had been one of Larz’s, first friends when the young prince of Tygeria had come to Herkos all those years ago as a kidnapped slave.

He had remained his best friend all these years later.

When Larz was eventually found by his father and his family, they declared martial law.

They had wanted him to come home with them, but because of Janos, Larz had adamantly refused.

Larz was still Davos’s son, however and they gave him the title of King’s Governor over and dominion over the entire planet when he kept refusing to go back home to Tygeria with them again.

By that time, Larz had met and fallen kind of madly in love with King Janos, and he wanted to stay with him forever.

That went over with his family about as well as you might expect.

His eldest brother, Prince Mikos was particularly “pissed off,” as Luc would say.

As a matter of fact, he was raging when I saw him last in the courtyard of the palace.

I could see why Larz really liked Luc—I think because when Larz first came, the human Luc reminded him a little of his omak, the Tygerian word for bearer. Anyway, they became good friends and comrades, and Larz made Luc a general in his personal royal guard as soon as he could.

“Okay, I’ve really got to go and find my boots now.”

“Don’t say ‘okay’ and use that vulgar Earthan slang, Taran. You’re Herkon.”

“Actually, I’m not. I’m from Brytal.”

He waved his hand like that was an insignificant point.

But I’d been born there in that small, poor country that lay nestled along the border between Herkon and Athelonia, and I’d lived in Brytal until I was nine.

My mother had died when I was born, and then a few years later, my father passed away too.

My older brothers, not wanting another mouth to feed and not overly filled with the spirit of brotherly love and affection, I guess, decided to sell me as a slave to the Farlians, who then traded me off to the Athelonians.

Not long afterward, in the aftermath of a fierce battle, I’d met a soldier whose name I thought was Bastion, but whose real name was Prince Larz.

He had been living under an assumed name, but he was really the infamous captured prince of Tygeria.

He was a slave and a soldier for the Herkons by this time, and he had enlisted my help in rescuing Majesty after a battle with Athelonia.

It was long story, involving a harrowing escape, a major explosion and a subsequent huge fire that burned down a wide swath of forest land.

All in all, it was an eventful trip, but we managed to get King Janos safely back to his palace in Herkon.

And in that process, Bastion, aka Prince Larz and King Janos fell madly in love.

I was really happy about how it all turned out for me. I went from being a slave to the adopted son of the king, and everyone thought Larz and the king would finally have their happily ever after.

And then the Tygerians showed up. It had been a complete game changer.

I still called Janos “Majesty.” He had been regal and beautiful then, and he still was, for that matter, though he seemed so different today than from those early days.

During the Axis wars, Janos had spent a long time in a Tygerian prisoner of war camp, and the treatment of the some of the guards toward a beautiful, young enemy king had been just brutal.

He had very good reason to despise all the Tygerians.

Just thinking about it made me sad and I went back over to hug him.

Janos’s eyes were an almost navy blue, and they glowed with good humor as he pretended to try and get away from me, pushing at my shoulders, like he didn’t like it, but I knew better.

He loved it when Larz and I were playful and affectionate with him.

Especially Larz. No one else could do it though.

We were in a really small minority of two who were allowed and even encouraged to touch him. And we all liked to keep it that way.

He wasn’t as scary anymore as he used to be, and he was much more casual and relaxed. Most of the time. And he was so much more approachable now. Well, sometimes.