1 #2
Prince Donovan looked at the rest of the people still in line, his frown gathering. “Do you feel the same way? That your lives will be over if I do not protect you?”
Hesitant nods answered him, but every person nodded.
At that point, he started swearing in a language I didn’t recognize, but it sounded almost lyrical, then guttural.
Turning to his sister, he said, “We’ll take them in for now. But I’m recommending to our king he write a letter to the Orleansan base-born king telling him what a scumbag he is. We will not be doing any business with his country until he’s outlawed slavery.”
She beamed at him. “I’m in perfect agreement. You, the ugly one with the questionable morals, take these bindings off. Whatever paperwork you have on them, give it over. Then promptly leave. Your very soul darkens my walls.”
I liked the princess. She was my kind of people.
The second the collar was removed from my throat, I touched it with relief but also a wince. The skin was very raw. I’d have to keep it clean and dry as much as I could until it healed.
Prince Donovan took me by the hand and drew me with him. “You, come with me.”
I was perfectly fine following this man anywhere. I kept my hand in his and let him lead me.
We exited the courtyard and entered the palace itself.
It wasn’t ostentatious in decoration, featuring smooth floors, thin rugs to pad them, and the most amazing murals painted on the walls.
They didn’t rely on gold here to make things look opulent, but instead focused on art. I felt like the art did a better job.
“I must ask you some insensitive questions, I fear,” Prince Donovan apologized. “Are there no kin who would want your return?”
“I… No, not really. A sister will miss me, but it was my stepfather who sold me off.”
He frowned a little, not liking my answer. “Why were you sold? Debts?”
“Well, that was part of it, or at least the excuse he used. Really, it’s my ability that no one liked. The way they couldn’t lie or hide anything from me unnerved everyone.”
He paused at a four-way junction and tilted his head to stare at me for a long moment. “Psychics are very rare in my land, and coveted. Most psychics work for the government in some capacity or another.”
What he said didn’t entirely make sense to me.
Psychics could use their powers and not be shunned for it?
Not live surrounded by those who were scared or refused to engage?
I’d felt so incredibly isolated my whole life that hearing this sounded like a fairy tale.
I could have a career here? An actual social life, with friends and a lover?
“Was I born into the wrong country?” I blurted out, dismayed.
He gave a sad smile. “I think so. But you’re here now, and this will be home. Tell me, how much can you read from me?”
“Practically everything.” I studied his lines to see if he grew uncomfortable with it. “I don’t always understand why you have the emotion you do, but I can see it.”
“Do you see that I desire you?”
“I, uh…” Shit, was this a trick question? I would appreciate not having to answer this question. Fuck me, please let me come up with a quick, clever response.
Me?
Nothing?
Shit, I was fucked.
His eyes crinkled up a little and he grinned. “That pretty blush tells me you do. I will not touch you without your permission, rest assured.”
That did make me feel better, but at the same time, “I already knew that. You’d never force yourself on anyone.”
“Oh? You can even see that?”
“I can.”
“Then you’re quite powerful indeed.” Prince Donovan nodded once, as if agreeing with some internal judgment. “We must find an anchor for you. I hope I’m a contender, at least.”
The last statement made absolutely no sense. “I’m sorry, a what?”
He nudged me into motion again, taking a right and heading farther into the palace. “You do not know what an anchor is?”
“I’ve never heard the term.”
“An anchor is one who bonds with a psychic. The anchor’s entire purpose is to support, love, and protect the psychic. It’s an incredible honor to be chosen, and there’s some stiff competition. I imagine with your eyes, it won’t take you five minutes to find the right person.”
He was right, it wouldn’t, but the idea of someone choosing to be my anchor was…nonsensical? I’d been shunned my entire life. No one would choose to be with me, surely.
But he sounded so confident about it, I didn’t know how to start the argument. Instead I said, “You are a contender? In other words, you want to be my anchor?”
He stopped again, turning to face me, his hand coming up to cradle my jaw.
I instinctively turned into his touch, unable to help myself.
The prince felt good to my psychic senses.
Relaxing, in a way, and closing my eyes helped me appreciate just how lovely his aura was. It was like soaking in a hot bath.
Wait, wait, stop indulging and focus! You’re supposed to be arguing right now, me!
I pried eyes open by force and glanced up at him. He watched me with open hunger in his gaze and it sent a shiver up my spine. A warm, tingly shiver, because gods above, I’d never had a man look at me so, and it was intoxicating.
His thumb caressed my bottom lip lightly, and my breath caught. Why, why, why did this man’s every touch send me into this almost-intoxicated state?
“I would love to be your anchor,” Prince Donovan whispered to me, the words throaty and low. “I can tell you like me. You trust me already, don’t you?”
I nodded shallowly.
“And you desire me as well. I cannot read people like you do, but I’m not wrong on that.”
He wasn’t. On the other hand, should I? Could I? I was a mortician’s son, he was a prince; surely there’d be backlash!
“What holds you back?” he murmured, even as he shifted in closer. “Do you need more time to think it over?”
“Rather, why do you think this is a good idea?” I countered. Oh phew, some part of my brain still worked and produced words. Good brain, good brain. “You’re a prince; surely you can’t choose me.”
He chuckled softly. “I assure you, the rules of my country are vastly different from yours. We do not care for bloodlines. I am a prince because I have earned that title. I defeated the dragon terrorizing my people’s farmlands, and for that, I have earned my place in the royal family.”
Oh? Wait, what did he mean by earning princehood? “I’d love to hear that story.”
“I’ll tell it to you. First, however, we should go to my rooms. I want your throat looked at, and I’m sure you want out of these clothes. You look uncomfortable.”
I was, incredibly so. While they were clean, they were too hot for this desert land. “I’d be grateful for new clothes.”
“Then come.”
This time, he set a hand at the base of my spine and led me forward. I leaned into the pressure of his hand a little, and studied him. He was so incredibly confident about being able to choose me. But his eyes were not like mine, so how could he know he’d made the right choice?
“We have multiple clans,” Donovan said as we walked.
“Eight, in fact, and every generation, the clans have the option of letting their children perform some heroic feat. Those who succeed earn a place in the government and they lead until the next generation performs a feat. The older generation becomes advisers, the newer one steps up and leads. I’m in the process of learning how to lead, and should take my proper place at the advent of the new year. ”
“So, because you weren’t born a prince, you don’t think of yourself as above me?”
“Correct. You can read that?”
“I can, but your explanation made sense of what I saw.” He was an incredibly down-to-earth man. Now I understood why. “Wait, is that how your king is appointed, too?”
“It is. No one family rules consistently from generation to generation. We work off merit, not bloodline.”
And I’d bet they were far better rulers because of it. They still had their feet anchored in the real world, not one made of luxury and vanity.
“Then are you a candidate for being the next king?”
“If I wished to throw myself into the ring, yes. I do not want that much responsibility, however.” Prince Donovan gave an exaggerated sigh and his lines briefly flared orange, as if some memory aggravated him.
“I have enough to juggle with the position I hold, I do not want more. Returning to the main topic, you ask if I can choose you. Rather, I would be blessed to have you. Being your anchor would be the best thing I’d do in my life.
That’s how my people all see it. But also, if you choose to stand at my side, you can help me navigate politics. ”
Oh.
Ohhhh.
It was a mercenary reason to choose me, but I conversely felt eased by it. Everyone had to be a little mercenary to get ahead in life, and he harbored no ill intentions. He was honest enough in his desire for me, too.
Everything I read from him inclined me to believe he’d be an amazing protector and lover, but… Oh, good question. “So, um, are anchors normally lovers as well?”
“Most of the time. Sometimes they’re siblings, and a few pairings are platonic friends, but usually the psychic and anchor end up together romantically.”
He hoped for that, too.
If not for his hand at my back, silently urging me forward, I would have stopped to study his lines better.
He wasn’t contradicting himself—his lines agreed with what he said—but it still didn’t make complete sense to me.
He could choose anyone. Literally anyone would be thrilled to have this man.
So why me? I had nothing but my decent looks and ability.
“I can see I will have to convince you,” Prince Donovan said with a long sigh. “It is something else I will need to berate your king for. How dare he ignore such amazing talent in his own lands, to the point you feel like you are worthless.”
Ouch. I mean, he was right, but ouch. He’d put a finger squarely on a sore spot.