Chapter 12
Bressen
“I trust you were well-received?” I asked Axenus as he settled into the chair across from my desk.
I’d taken a moment to glance through the portal he’d just stepped through from Kern before it closed behind him, but aside from seeing the royal portal master and some views of the intricate palace architecture, nothing stood out to me.
The Primus of Kern apparently hadn’t decided to see Axenus off.
“Well enough,” Axenus said. “The Primus wasn’t exactly warm in his welcome when I met with him, but I was offered every hospitality while I was there.” He looked at me significantly. “Every hospitality.”
I raised a brow. I’d never been to Kern, but I’d heard stories of the delights the Kernish palace offered its visitors.
The revels and ‘hospitalities’ – as Axenus called them – were the stuff of legend, and as a result, the Primus received hundreds of requests a year from rulers and nobles around the continent who wanted to visit.
Many had only flimsy excuses for why they needed an invitation, so I’d had my work cut out for me convincing the Primus’s steward that my business with his sovereign was legitimate and time-sensitive.
In the end, that I planned on sending an emissary rather than coming myself convinced him my business was real, and my promise that I had an offer the Primus might find intriguing moved me to the top of the invite list. Or rather, it had moved Axenus to the top.
“I hope you partook of those hospitalities to the fullest,” I told him, although if I knew Axenus, he hadn’t. His response surprised me, though.
He shrugged. “I might’ve accepted a few…amenities.”
I grinned at him. “Good for you.”
A measure of awkward silence stretched between us, and I knew we were both thinking back to the day he’d caught me fucking Cyra as I bent her over the table in the great room.
I’d had the table replaced with something in a very different style since then so Axenus wouldn’t have to remember what he’d seen every time he looked at it.
He and I hadn’t had a chance to talk about the incident before I’d asked him to go to Kern, and while I was sure we were both grateful for the respite, we needed to address it sooner or later.
As much as I might prefer to let things be, I needed to give Axenus the opportunity to express himself if he chose.
“Axe, I need to apologize again about what you saw in the great room before you left for Kern,” I said, deciding now was as good a time as any.
“It was inappropriate and irresponsible of us…of me to do that with Cyra out in the open where anyone could see, especially you, and I hope you’ll forgive me for putting you through that.
If there’s anything you’d like to say, please feel free to do so. ”
I shut up then and waited for Axenus to speak.
He sat for a long time just looking at me, and I resisted the urge to squirm under his gaze.
I wasn’t sure if his silence meant he was gathering his thoughts or if he had no desire to say anything.
I was about to say something else when he finally broke his silence.
“I don’t understand it,” he said. “I spent eight years being used against my will, sometimes violently by the people Clarice lent me to. Cyra explained things to me, but I’ll still never fully understand why you take pleasure in hurting her, or why she seems to take pleasure in letting you.
It will never make sense to me why you both seem to enjoy…
reenacting the kinds of horrors I endured. ”
I lowered my head and looked away, unable to meet his eyes. I opened my mouth to say something, but I had no idea what I could say to that. Axenus saved me from having to try.
“But I don’t need to understand it, or even accept it,” he said, and my eyes snapped to his. “It’s not for me to judge what you and Cyra do in the privacy of your own bedchamber…So long as it remains in the privacy of your own bedchamber,” he added.
I nodded in understanding. “Of course. You’re absolutely-”
“I had a long time to consider this in Kern,” he said, cutting me off, “and the biggest difference between what happened to me and what you do with Cyra is consent.”
I found myself nodding as if in assurance.
“Cyra swore to me you had her full consent for everything that happened, and she trusted you to stop if she asked you to,” he went on. “And so long as that remains the case, then I won’t feel like I have to castrate the man who saved me from eight years of hell.”
I blinked at Axenus as my mouth fell open, ready to voice a response that never manifested.
I was shocked he’d dared to threaten me, but I was also proud of him.
There’d always been a kind of barrier between me and Axenus.
Not a huge one, but one that kept him from seeing me as more than just a lord and the man who’d rescued him, a barrier high enough to keep him from being a real friend in the way Samhail was to me.
In a strange way, the antagonistic friendship Axenus had with Samhail almost seemed closer, more authentic, than what I had with Axenus, and I hoped perhaps this might be a turning point for us, despite what had prompted it.
If Axenus felt comfortable enough to threaten me, then he no longer had me on a pedestal.
In an odd sort of way, my mistake had probably brought us closer together than anything else in the last twenty-some years of our friendship.
“Understood,” I said, smiling. “My balls and I will take that to heart.”
Axenus nodded, and a moment of acceptance passed between us.
“Shall we get back to your visit to Kern then?” I suggested.
“Of course, my-,” he started to say, formality back in his tone, but I held up a hand to stop him.
“You just threatened to castrate me,” I said. “You don’t get to call me ‘my lord’ anymore. We’re well past that now.”
A smile crooked his lips. “Of course. Bressen.”
Saying my name clearly felt awkward to him, but he’d get used to it.
“Back to Kern then,” I said. “What I really want to know is if the stories about the Primus are true. Does he actually…?” I trailed off, inviting Axenus to fill in the blank. Rumor had it the Primus had gotten eccentric in his old age, and I was curious to know just how much.
Axenus’s eyes rolled back in his head as if he was remembering all too well what I was talking about. “Yes,” he said. “It’s true. I’m more used to it than most people, but having a conversation like that does get a bit interesting.”
“I hope I get to meet him someday,” I said, chuckling. “Speaking of conversations, how did yours go?”
“He balked at the idea at first, but after I laid things out for him more fully, he was at least receptive,” Axenus said.
“He spoke to his advisors, and they came back with some questions we’ll need to answer before they agree to anything, but I was optimistic when I left.
I suppose your next step is to run this by the High Council and then Aidan? ”
“Yes, I scheduled a meeting with them together tomorrow, but…” I trailed off as my mind tried to wrap itself around the nagging feeling that something was wrong.
“But what?” Axenus prompted.
“I thought convincing the High Council might be the hard part, but I’m starting to worry about Aidan’s reaction as well.”
Axenus’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
“I met with him a little while ago, and he was different. More hostile. More…combative.” I looked Axenus in the eye. “He’s refusing to assemble his army, and he hasn’t made any preparations for war.”
Axenus’s brows shot up. “What? Why not? You’d think after Jasper was taken that would be his priority.”
“That was my thought too, but apparently not,” I said.
“Hiraeth can’t take on Sandrian and Magdalene alone,” Axenus said. “You need Polaris and Derridan on board.”
“Believe me, I’m aware. We’re already at a disadvantage because Polaris lost part of its army during the coup, and its people haven’t forgotten that loss. I’m not sure what we’ll do if I can’t get Aidan to change his mind.”
Axenus looked at me meaningfully. “You could always…change it for him,” he suggested.
I let out a frustrated growl. I could do that.
My mind magic was easily strong enough to compel Aidan to see things my way, but if I was willing to do such a thing, I might as well not have even bothered to reform the Triumvirate.
I was as good as a dictator if I wasn’t going to let my fellow rulers make their own decisions.
Even if those decisions were stupid and dangerous and likely to get us all killed.
“I can’t,” I said. My frustration boiled over, and I slammed my fist down on the desk.
“Is…Samhail back yet?” Axenus asked tentatively.
“No. The twins are out looking for him when they should be guarding Cyra. I have half a mind to throw him in Revenmyer when I find him.”
“Have you tried sending him a message leaf?” he asked.
“Yes, a couple. He won’t answer.”
“That’s unlike him. Are you sure he’s alright?”
I was about to respond when the meaning of Axenus’s question hit me like a battering ram.
I’d never considered even once that Samhail might be injured or even dead.
It had always been a given that he was just ignoring me, that he had some plan he didn’t want to tell me, but the gravity of the situation hit me then.
He was alone with a highly dangerous assassin.
I had every confidence in Samhail’s ability to take care of himself, but it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility the assassin had somehow overpowered him or tricked him or…
I shook my head to banish the thought. No, I wouldn’t even entertain the notion. Samhail was fine. He was just being a pain in my ass.