12. Eiri
Eiri
Syrus’ threat lingered in Eiri’s mind long after the man was gone, locking Eiri in again as he left. A tremor suffused every limb and the bitter taste of fear wouldn’t leave him.
He’d lost control. Caught up in his anger, he’d lost control and attacked him.
Not only that, but he’d let Syrus get the upper hand.
Just remembering the feeling of the man’s body pressed against his made his stomach clench and twist. His wrists bore Syrus’ bruises, dark marks he’d have to hide for days.
At least he’d made the bastard bleed before losing the knife he’d found in the back of the wardrobe.
Unfortunately, without that knife, he was right back where he’d started.
The windows were sealed, but not warded, and the knife had been a handy tool to chip away at that seal, even if he’d cut into his own hand nearly as much as the window.
It’d been worth it just for the pleasure of cutting up Syrus’ luxurious bedsheets to use as bandaging for the cuts.
They were several dozen feet in the air on the third level, making the windows a foolish choice for any would-be assassins.
Still, not having the wards active was just arrogant.
If Eiri cared even one whit about his husband’s safety, he’d berate him for leaving them untended.
Since he didn’t, he would use this to his advantage.
By taking away that knife, Syrus had likely believed he was leaving Eiri powerless.
No one in Vaetreas knew he was a mage and even if they had known, none of them understood just how different Canjiri magic was.
Generations of isolation on their island, with strong traditions passing down through generations, had changed their magic, allowing them to grow stronger while the rest of the world weakened.
His ability to control water would help him weaken the wood and stone holding the window in place, but it would take too long.
Drawing too much magic at once would alert any strong mages in residence to what he was doing and likely result in Syrus locking him in a tourmaline-laced room.
The stone was one of the few minerals that could block a mage’s access to their magic, and he had no desire to feel its effects.
The washroom window had seemed to be the best choice for his escape.
It was out of sight, overlooking the gardens at the back of the palace.
Instead of a sheer drop, there was a stone ledge outside and he could just make out the railing of a balcony below him, likely attached to the residence of someone on the second floor.
From there, climbing down the rest of the way would be simple.
Now that plan was compromised. He’d let Syrus catch him there. He hadn’t even heard the door open, which made him doubly a fool. Every other window he’d examined opened to a three-story drop. At best, he’d break a leg, but at this point, he’d take his chances.
A knock at the door interrupted his search for a new escape route and he went still. Syrus wouldn’t knock, and no servant had come to the room since he’d taken up residence here.
“Eiri?”
Relief nearly sent him to his knees, his body still shaking with the high of his fight with Syrus. He hurried to the door, trying the knob even though he’d heard Syrus lock it. Worse, the ward was active for once, a faint shimmer set into the wood only visible to those with magic.
“Kien.” He leaned against the door, tilting his head to hear his friend. “Do you have a key? The asshole locked me in and warded the door.”
“He did what?” Even through the heavy door, Eiri could hear the cold fury in Kien’s words. “I knew Vaetreans lacked honor, but this is appalling.”
“Is there anyone out there with you?”
“It would appear he sent the guard away, though there are several more further down the hall. They cannot hear us, but they can see me.”
It was better than nothing. Still, he lowered his voice as much as he dared.
“I could get through the ward or out a window with enough time, but I don’t know that I have much of that.
Syrus is furious that I won’t give up our ways.
” He left out Syrus’ threats on the likely chance that some sort of ward in the hallway was listening to everything he said.
“We never should have come here,” Kien hissed and if Eiri had thought him furious before, it was nothing compared to the venom in his voice now.
“I agree. Is this grounds to annul the marriage?” An ember of hope flickered to life, quickly smothered by the silence that followed his words. “Kien?”
“It’s complicated to annul a royal marriage,” he said slowly, and his hesitation told Eiri everything he needed to know. Short of murder, he would be married to Syrus forever.
“I can’t stay here.” Hopelessness crept in and he slumped against the door, resting his forehead against the wood.
“I can’t spend the rest of my life surrounded by people who despise me, trapped in a marriage with a husband who is determined to break me down and turn me into someone I hate. Please, Kien…”
Tears burned in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall, blinking them back as the silence stretched.
“I never wished this for you, Eiri,” Kien finally said, almost too quiet to be heard through the door. “I will write to your mother and tell her the truth of what is happening. I don’t have the power to get you free of this place, not without the council behind me, but she could sway them.”
She likely could, but Eiri had to wonder if she would.
His was not the only loveless marriage the council had arranged, but it was one of the most important.
Those sent to Kargha and Caranyvik were important to creating new allies, but those countries had never been outright hostile to Canjir.
Their distance protected their coastlines from raids.
Their ties with Nevarre were more fragile, their coastal towns having been targeted more than a few times, but Queen Isadore was a fair ruler. Even before Eiri had left, new lines of commerce and communication were opening with Nevarre.
Vaetreas, though, was a different story entirely.
Hundreds of miles of their coast sat just across the Karjul Straits, dozens of port towns stuffed to the brim with food and supplies ready to be shipped off to the highest bidder.
They were prime targets for raids and over the years, Vaetrean ports had been the heaviest hit by his people, creating a tension between the two kingdoms that had turned to the hatred that existed now.
The only reason Canjir as a whole still existed was the protection provided by the Straits.
According to the stories he’d been told, Canjir had once been part of the continent, connected by a strip of rocky land.
They’d lived in the shadow of Anatau until the day it erupted so violently it collapsed in on itself, sinking into the ocean and creating the Straits.
The remnants of that volcano created a shallow, treacherous stretch of water between Canjir and the rest of the world.
Craggy rocks beneath the surface scraped heavy ships apart, and the tides created whirlpools that sucked down smaller boats.
The Canjiri were the only ones who had learned the secrets of navigating it and even they lost a few sailors every year to the depths.
“What if the council refuses? You know how important this alliance with Vaetreas is to them,” he finally said. “I want to believe my mother would support me, but…”
Again, Kien’s silence only confirmed his fears. “If the council refuses, then we will have to abide by their decision, no matter how much we disagree.”
Eiri scowled, impotent fury curdling within him. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re an ambassador, with diplomatic protection. You can leave any time you choose. I’m the one who will be stuck here until the day I die.” A day that grew closer and closer the longer he spent around Syrus.
“Let me write to her first, before you get too caught up in what could be. She is your mother and she loves you. That holds more power than you may realize. Please promise me you won’t do anything rash until I receive word from her.”
“I can’t promise that. I’ll do whatever I have to do to defend myself if Syrus threatens me again.”
“I am not saying that. I am asking you to keep your head down and stay calm until we get word back from Canjir. Please, Eiri,” Kien said, like he knew Eiri was about to object again.
“I’ll try. That’s the best I can do. I need you to hurry on this. Syrus was furious when he left, and I don’t know how much time I have before he does something about it.”
“The contract restrains him just as much as it does us, which will buy us some time. I will have a letter on the way before the hour is up. I took the liberty of finding couriers I could trust when we first arrived, just in case. Give me a few days, that is all I ask.”
“That won’t be up to me.” Eiri shuddered, remembering the burning hatred in Syrus’ dark eyes.
In all the times the two of them had faced each other, he’d never been afraid of the other man, but in those times, he’d always had an escape route.
Here, he was trapped. Syrus had every advantage, while Eiri only had his magic and Kien.
Even after Kien left to send his letter, Eiri lingered by the door. The surge of energy from the fight was ebbing, leaving him tired and hollowed out. He sank to the floor right there, leaning against the heavy wood as he fought back the dark thoughts trying to consume him.
Kien’s letter back home was a useless gesture, and they both knew it.
His mother cared for him, even if she didn’t love him quite like she loved Akari.
Honestly, contacting his sister would be a better bet, as she would plead his case to their mother, but he had no way of contacting Kien to tell him that now.
Even if his mother did fight for him, though, the odds of her winning over the council were small.
Canjir needed peace with Vaetreas. More importantly, they needed the trade agreements that would finally allow his people to afford the food and supplies their island couldn’t provide.
Weighed against the unhappiness of one man, he knew what they would decide.
Still, the selfish part of him couldn’t help but hope they would prove him wrong.
There had to be other ways to forge peace between the two kingdoms besides marriage.
It wasn’t even working. If anything, his constant fights with Syrus and his refusal to give up his culture were making things worse.
A more noble man would yield, would adapt to this new place for the sake of his people, but the very idea made Eiri sick.
He was proud of who he was and where he came from.
He wouldn’t hide who he was because of one insufferable bastard.
Newfound determination pushed him to his feet, combating the emptiness inside him.
Kien could send his letter and Eiri would wait for the council’s decision, but he wouldn’t sit idly by.
If things went the way he feared they would, he needed an escape plan of his own.
He was not helpless. He was Canjiri. His people had endured even after their home had been destroyed. They’d stayed, and they’d survived.
Eiri would not be defeated by a single man, even if that man was his unwanted husband. Like his people, he would persist. He may have lost one fight to Syrus, but he would win this war.