Chapter 11
“Your Majesty—terribly sorry to interrupt!” Neel shouted from the edge of the mat, loud enough to cut through the grunts and scuffling coming from Rain and his combat trainer.
Rain had Raym pinned in a choke-hold, his legs locked around the male’s torso, trapping one arm to his side.
He squeezed just hard enough to stop Raym from using his legs against him.
The trainer’s free arm flailed in surrender before tapping out.
Rain released him, shaking off the stinging vibration running through his muscles.
He chuckled as Raym gasped for breath, both of them instinctively shuffling back, never foolish enough to turn their backs on one another.
“You of all people should know better than to get me into a horizontal position, Raym,” Rain teased, flicking a towel at his trainer’s face with a playful burst of power.
Raym—Raymon Sonatri—was Rain’s personal combat instructor.
A Red Aetherial by lineage, his ancestry tied him to the Red Aetherchrome source, though like most, his power was only a faint echo of his predecessors.
He was what they called a Heatmarked; someone whose ability inflicted a lingering burn through muscle and nerve.
Not dangerous, but potent enough to hinder an opponent.
In training, it was a tool, not a punishment: the sting sharpened awareness, imprinting mistakes into muscle memory.
Enough hits, enough burn, and the body learned to avoid openings before the mind even caught up.
He hadn’t always been able to use his power on Rain, not without Rain’s emotional pain ricocheting back onto him or others but Raym’s century of hand-to-hand experience had been invaluable.
His early methods gave Rain the mental and physical stimulation he needed to regulate his nervous system.
As Rain’s control strengthened, Raym’s heatmarking became an essential part of conditioning him to withstand physical pain without destabilising emotionally.
“Your pain tolerance is starting to piss me off,” Raym muttered, wiping sweat from the back of his neck. “A young thing like you shouldn’t be able to floor me that fast.”
“I was trained by the best.”
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”
“Your Majesty!” Neel called again, impatience creeping into his tone.
“Yes, Neel?”
“Apologies for the intrusion, Sir. There is a young man at the gates claiming to be a friend of yours. It seems rather urgent—the guards don’t appear to have taken kindly to him.”
“Does he have a name?” Rain asked, puzzled.
“Unfortunately, not to my knowledge, Sir.” Neel gestured animatedly with his white-gloved hands. “A guard very rudely informed me that a young man was demanding to see you before storming back to his post. I get the impression the gentleman in question is refusing to leave.”
“Interesting.” Rain pushed himself to his feet and turned to Raymon. “I guess that means you’ll have to wait for our next cuddle on the mat.”
Raymon huffed.
“Next time I’m getting in a kidney shot or two and handing you your ass.”
“Ohhh, and there goes your element of surprise,” Rain teased. “See you on Verday.”
“See you bright and early!”
Rain groaned, shooting him a narrowed look. Verday morning training was his least favourite, mostly because it was at five a.m., a time of day he would rather pretend didn’t exist. Neel handed him a bottle of water and a towel as he stepped off the mat.
“Thanks, let’s find out who my mystery visitor is.
As he approached the gate, Rain spotted two guards restraining someone dressed in blue—not unusual in Nilantra, but the encounter was clearly escalating.
He couldn’t see the visitor’s face through the commotion and his energy felt familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
Clearing his throat loudly, he made sure they heard him.
The young man froze at the sound. His emotions shifted sharply; fear and anger dissolving into relief. The guards took advantage of his hesitation, twisting his arm behind his back and pinning him to the stone wall.
“Rain, help!” he shouted as his face finally came into view.
“Thomas? Fuck me—it is you. What are you doing here?” Rain blurted, stunned.
“I came to see you...for the team. Ouch! You’re hurting me, di—” His voice cut off as his cheek was mashed against the wall under the guard’s pressure.
“Bloody hell. Release him, you idiots.”
“Your Highness, he—”
“Now.” Rain’s tone left no room for argument.
The guards released Thomas immediately. Rain flicked his power outward, nudging them an extra foot back; they stumbled clumsily, faces flushing red.
“I apologise on behalf of our guard. This is not an acceptable way to greet our visitors.” He shot them a pointed glare before turning back to Thomas. “Come inside. I can’t believe you came all this way.”
“Everybody’s worried about you, bro,” Thomas said, brushing off his T-shirt and rubbing the side of his face as he fell into step beside Rain.
“Don’t say anything else until we reach my quarters. I don’t trust the eyes and ears around here,” Rain warned. It was a sad truth; he couldn’t trust anyone in his own court.
Thomas gulped audibly, glancing around as they made their way through the palace. His eyes widened further as they reached the grand oval staircase leading toward the twins’ wing, awe radiating off him.
“I never thought I’d see inside the palace,” he admitted.
Rain scanned deeper into his friend’s emotions, curiosity tugging at him and instantly felt self-conscious.
He was confronted by feelings of awe, intimidation and a touch of disbelief.
He had never invited anyone into his home before.
As a child, he’d had no friends to bring.
As a teenager, he’d been too lost, too dangerous.
The only mortals who ever entered his wing were staff.
Other aetherials that visited were nobles and royals, they were used to luxury; they never looked at his home with such wonder.
He realised, uncomfortably, that he liked keeping his personal life separate from this place. One day, he would have to prioritise his kingdom over friendships. Maybe he already did to a degree.
He stayed quiet, letting Thomas take in the surroundings as they reached his rooms. When they stepped through the carved doorway, Neel was already waiting to greet them.
“Good noon, Your Highness,” Neel said warmly before turning to Thomas. “And whom do I have the honour of serving today?”
Thomas turned beetroot red, shyness swallowing him whole.
“This is Thomas,” Rain supplied, watching his friend squirm in his peripheral vision. “He’s a new friend of mine. We met on a training court last week, before… everything went to shit.”
“Good noon, Thomas. A pleasure.” Neel dipped his head. “I’m Neel. I work as the pri—” He caught himself, reconsidering the formality. “Pardon me. As Rain’s personal butler. I’ve taken the liberty of setting out a few beverages and light snacks for you both on the balcony.”
He smiled at them with such open pride that Rain felt it radiate off him; like a father whose child had finally made a friend at school. Embarrassing, Rain thought… though oddly humbling.
“Is there anything else you may need?”
“Thank you, Neel. That will be all,” Rain said, offering a half-smile.
“Very well.” Neel bowed, still beaming, and quietly ushered out the young girl who had helped him arrange the food.
“Sorry about that,” Rain muttered once they were alone. “I don’t tend to have visitors. He’s excited.”
“Must be cool to have your own butler?”
“I guess. I’ve always had assistance, but Neel’s like family.” Rain gestured toward the balcony. “Come on, sit. Tell me everything. I still can’t believe you braved coming here.”
“Hey, you think I had a choice?” Thomas laughed as they settled into the lattice chairs. “Wren and Emily are terrifying, man. I’m here on orders. Nobody else can get into Nilantra, so it was down to me to make sure you’re alive. We’re all worried about you.”
Rain tensed, apprehension tightening in his chest. Was he ready to hear what they thought of him now?
“How is everyone?” he asked quietly.
“Everyone’s fine. Just worried. We don’t know exactly what happened, but Jay’s sure it wasn’t your fault. He told us you were just visiting him before you got caught.”
Rain flinched. Jay defending him twisted something sharp in his gut.
“The propaganda between kingdoms is insane, bro,” Thomas continued. “None of us believe any of it, especially since every report contradicts the last. I never realised how hated we are. Blue Kingdom, I mean. And you? You’re a hero to us, but to them… phew. It’s wild.”
“I did kill those people, Thomas. I’m not innocent.” Rain’s voice was low. “I’ve been killing their people for years.”
“I know, man.” Thomas took a swig of yellow juice. “Mmm––this is nice. What is it?”
Rain huffed a surprised laugh, grabbing his own glass. He sipped slowly, letting his empathic walls lower just enough to feel Thomas’s emotions. What he found startled him. There was no judgement, no fear. Just acceptance.
“Passion fruit. My favourite.” He took a larger gulp.
“How are you not…” He trailed off, searching for the words.
“I don’t know. Why aren’t you angry? Or scared?
I just admitted to killing over eight hundred people.
I expected… something. Anything. Surely not everyone feels like you do.
Wren must be questioning everything. And Jay—” He winced at the memory of Jay’s room, the intimacy before the chaos.
“He must be wondering how I went from being with him so casually to murdering hundreds of his people. And the others, not from Blue, they’d be smart to keep their distance.
Especially now that this might turn into a full-scale war. ”
“Look, I can’t speak for everyone,” Thomas said, shrugging.
“But for me? You’re my prince. We’re on the same side.
And you’re cool. You actually listen to us mortals — unlike certain Royals who shall not be named.
” He widened his eyes and jerked his chin toward the palace. Rain smirked at the boldness.
“But the team feels the same. We’re worried about you. And we’re worried this means you won’t want to be on the team anymore. We all agreed that if you’re out, we’re all out.”
Rain inhaled sharply, the sincerity hitting him harder than expected.
“They don’t hate me?” he asked, needing the confirmation.
“Dude, nobody hates you. Well, I’m sure plenty of people do, but not us.” Thomas grinned as Rain sagged back in his chair, stunned. “So… are we still a team? Because I really don’t want to be the one to break the bad news.”
“I’d never let you guys down. You’re stuck with me until you decide you’re done with me.”
“Cheers to that, brother!” Thomas raised his glass and downed the rest. Rain raised his own with a smile.
“I bet that’s nice with vodka.”
“Oh, it is. Maybe a little too nice.” Rain grimaced at the memory of past hangovers. “Jay’s all right then?”
“Jay? Not both Reds? Or Jasmine, Sean, Daphne?” Thomas teased. “He’s still obsessed with you, don’t worry. He practically begged me to get your Connekt for him. Would’ve been nice if we had a way to reach you.”
Rain blinked. “I don’t use technology. I’m channelling energy ninety-five percent of the time. The idea of people reaching me even in my solitude—” He shivered. Then paused. “But… maybe I should. Now that I have friends who can’t just drop by.”
Thomas grinned. “Ayyy, I don’t mind regular palace visits. I could get used to this.”
He began digging into the trays of food.
“Are we really going to war with everyone?” he asked earnestly.
“I won’t lie; it looks probable. Without saying too much, the King’s plans—successful or not—will cause chaos. Red’s allies will have to join them. Orange and Yellow aren’t threats to us yet, but to our friends? I don’t want to be used against them.”
“Don’t you have a choice? You’re the most powerful Royal we know. How can anyone make you do anything? Isn’t the strongest supposed to rule?”
“It’s complicated,” Rain sighed. “I’ve never had a choice.
Until now, I didn’t think I was capable of choice.
But maybe things are changing. The most powerful aren’t ruling anymore.
I question when that stopped being the standard.
The strongest, most determined people I’ve met…
they’re often in the most unexpected places. ”
“Deep,” Thomas said around a mouthful of food.
Rain snorted. “Okay, let’s get that vodka. It’s five p.m. somewhere.”
Thomas’s eyes lit up.
Rain reached out with his power, brushing Neel’s energy signature with a brief pulse of need; their agreed-upon signal.
“Let’s leave the worries for another day,” Rain said, leaning back. “And drink to living in the moment and to competing at weeks end.”