Chapter 9 Eiri
Eiri
The rough tiles scratched at his clothing, but Eiri didn’t mind them.
They were warm beneath his bare feet, and the gritty texture reminded him a bit of the sunbaked beaches of Canjir.
It was the closest thing he’d found to home since coming to this accursed city and he needed the comfort.
So far, it didn’t seem like anyone else used the roof access he’d found while exploring his new home.
There were wards on the slender door, but those were easily bypassed.
He’d only been up here a few times, but in that time, no one had disturbed his peace.
Everywhere else he went in the palace, there were eyes on him.
The nobles and courtiers all openly stared, not bothering to hide their whispers and sneers now that it was clear he wasn’t welcome with the royal family.
Guards watched him with barely veiled hostility, as though they expected him to start running up and down the hallways raiding bedrooms. The few times he’d come across members of his new family, they either snidely acknowledged him or completely ignored him. He preferred the latter.
He was only a few hours north of home, by ship, but it felt further.
It never got as hot here as he was used to, though the chill in his bones could have been the lingering ache of knowing he was stuck here forever.
The fight with Syrus was still fresh in his mind as he lay on his back, the noon sun warming his skin but doing nothing for that cold within him.
He’d known, of course, that Syrus saw him as nothing more than a barbaric raider, but hearing the familiar insult had still thrown him off balance.
Kien had warned him, had told him to watch himself because Syrus wasn’t being nice for no reason, but even so, Eiri had nearly fallen for it, so desperate for a single friendly face that he’d ignored all the warnings.
At least now he knew the truth. He’d heard the words from Syrus’ own lips, the harsh reminder he’d needed that he didn’t have any friends in this country. The only one he could count on was Kien.
Sleep eluded him last night, and he’d made his way up to this sanctuary before dawn, watching the sun rise on a city that hated him. Far below, the people bustled about their days, running errands, going to work, greeting old friends, all too far away for him to hear or even truly see.
Eiri buried the dark thoughts trying to creep up on him and focused inward, drawing on the pool of magic within him.
It felt weaker here, away from the ocean, but there was enough water in the air around him to create a small droplet, barely bigger than the tip of his finger.
It glittered and danced in the sunlight, scattering tiny rainbows of color across his hands.
How did the Vaetreans stand living without colors like this in their lives?
Their clothing tended toward blacks and browns and greys, with what color they allowed themselves usually in dark jewel tones.
Here and there he’d spotted a few pastel colors, brilliantly bright when set against the dark background of everyone else, but it was nothing like the flurry of color he was used to.
Behind him, a hinge creaked. Eiri immediately let the droplet fall and it soaked into the roof tile as he stood, turning to face the door. The roof wasn’t particularly steep, but it wasn’t completely flat, either, meaning he had to move carefully to keep his balance.
Seeing Syrus standing in the doorway wasn’t much of a surprise. He’d hoped no one else knew about this haven, but the way his luck had run lately, it only made sense that the person he least wanted to see was the one who found him.
Neither of them spoke, and Eiri kept his expression neutral, determined not to give anything away. Minutes passed in agonizing silence, with Syrus standing in the doorway and Eiri on the roof, ten feet and an entire world apart.
It was Syrus who finally broke the silence. “You’re not supposed to be up here.”
Again, unsurprising. Of course he’d come to take the one bit of comfort and peace Eiri had managed to carve out for himself here.
He shrugged in response, taking a bit of delight in how Syrus’ lips thinned at the rudeness.
“It’s past noon. You missed your history and etiquette lessons.”
Another shrug from Eiri and Syrus looked ready to blow up.
It was all Eiri could do not to smile. The man finally left the doorway, stalking across the sloped roof and stopping just a few feet in front of Eiri.
The pitch of the roof put Syrus higher, taking away the slight height advantage Eiri had and leaving them almost perfectly eye-level with each other.
“Those tutors have rearranged their entire schedules to teach you,” he ground out. He always sounded like he was chewing glass when addressing Eiri. At least when he wasn’t pretending to be nice anymore.
“I didn’t ask them to do that. You did.”
“For you. To help you learn about Vaetreas and our ways so you can fit in better.”
That got Eiri’s hackles up, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “What if I don’t want to fit in?”
“I’m not telling you to become Vaetrean,” Syrus snapped, likely remembering Eiri’s protest during their fight. “But you at least need to start acting more like you belong here.”
“Why? It’s been made very clear that I don’t belong, so why should I have to pretend otherwise? I’m perfectly happy to be myself. At least this way, your people belittle me to my face and not behind my back.”
“You are married to a prince of Vaetreas.” Syrus took a step forward on the sloped roof, his hands fisted at his sides. “There are rules and customs that come with that. The queen herself has ordered that you learn your place.”
“Learn my place?” Eiri repeated. He stood his ground, not that he had much choice. He was near enough to the edge of the roof that there wasn’t much space to back up. “I can imagine what you all think my place to be, and it’s certainly not sharing a table as equals.”
“I never said that!”
“Oh? So you regularly refer to your honored guests as ‘trash’?”
That brought Syrus up short, and he floundered. “We were arguing! You can’t hold that against me!”
“I most certainly can, because you meant it,” Eiri said. Only a bare thread of his control remained and he clung to it as tight as he could, reminding himself repeatedly that the first person to lose their temper would be the one who lost the fight. “You meant every single word you said.”
“So what if I did? That doesn’t change anything.”
Just like before, when they’d fought with fists and swords instead of words and insults, Syrus went on the offense when backed into a corner. It was so predictable that Eiri would have laughed, if only there wasn’t so much on the line for him this time.
“Exactly. It doesn’t change anything, including me. I will not change myself and try to bury the fact that I’m from Canjir. I’m stuck in this marriage just as much as you are. I’m not losing myself just to appease some stupid traditions.”
“The queen—”
“I don’t give a fuck what the queen wants!
” Eiri’s control finally snapped and he stepped forward until he and Syrus were nearly nose to nose.
“What’s she going to do? Banish me? Please, that’s the best thing that could happen to me!
Execute me? Good luck getting a single thing from my people if she does that.
Rulers only have power over us when we let them.
Your queen has nothing. I’m not going to change and there is absolutely nothing you can do it about it. ”
Eiri stormed past Syrus, easily evading the other man when he grabbed for his arm to stop him.
Fury ate away at him, burning in his chest and curdling in his stomach.
He needed to get away before one of them said or did something truly stupid.
He already had enough regrets in his life and he feared one more may just be the final drop that sank the ship.