Chapter 22 Eiri
Eiri
Eiri stood with his back to the door, watching Kien pace the length of the tiny powder room.
Syrus had balked at allowing them to go alone, but no matter how angry he was, Eiri knew he was safe with Kien.
He just needed to get the older man to calm down and let him explain what was going on.
Unfortunately, Kien didn’t seem to be slowing in his pacing.
Every time he looked at Eiri, he muttered something under his breath and started all over again.
Finally, Eiri couldn’t take it anymore. He walked directly into Kien’s path, forcing him either to stop or to slam into him. For a moment, the latter seemed likely, but finally he paused, barely an inch from Eiri.
“Kien, I can—”
“You can explain?” the older man cut in, dark eyes narrowed. “You can explain to me why you fell for that man’s lies, threw away your pride, and chose to forsake your people and your heritage? Can you truly explain that to me, Eiri?”
The venom in Kien’s words struck true, and Eiri cringed when they hit their mark, sinking into the fragile foundations of the trust he’d built with Syrus. He couldn’t let them destroy it, though. He’d promised Syrus he wouldn’t go back.
“It’s not like that. I swear it.”
“Then why are you out there desecrating our history?” He plucked at the sleeve of Eiri’s jacket, where the Canjiri designs stood out clearly.
“You also promised me you’d never become one of them, yet I arrive tonight to see you wearing their clothing, on the arm of their prince, acting like his paid whore. ”
“That’s enough,” Eiri snapped, straightening to his full height, putting him a few inches above Kien.
“I understand that you’re angry, but you have no right to say such things to me.
You’re my mother’s friend, so I’ll give you some leniency, but you don’t know the full story.
Even if you did, you know I’m loyal, and I am no one’s fucking whore. ”
“That would be easier to believe if you weren’t wearing his marks on your neck,” Kien sneered and Eiri fought the urge to clap his hand over his throat.
He distinctly remembered the feel of Syrus’ lips on his skin, the scratch of stubble against his throat.
He’d hoped the high collar of the jacket would hide the tiny bruises, but clearly not.
“That has nothing to do with anything. I’m not an idiot. I’m working with him and trying to do whatever it takes to survive this fucking mess!”
“The council sent me here specifically to ensure that the alliance stands, so why didn’t you tell me this grand plan of yours?”
“There wasn’t time!”
“Naturally,” Kien said, his lip curled in disgust. “You are a fool, Eiri, and a disgrace to the C’Dari name.
Your mother would disown you if she saw you like this, dressed like our greatest enemy and hanging on the arm of the man who made it his purpose in life to ensure our people suffer.
You’ve betrayed every Canjiri who has suffered under his family’s rule. ”
“Kien, I—”
“Save your excuses. Go back to your prince and enjoy the party, Your Highness.”
The title landed like a blow, a blatant insult, and before Eiri could recover, Kien was gone, storming out the door and down the corridor, away from the party, leaving Eiri alone and reeling.
The door swung shut behind him, cutting off the sounds of the party, for which he was grateful. He needed a moment to clear his head.
Kien was wrong… right? He and Syrus were equals, even if the people here didn’t want to believe it.
They’d both thought through their options and decided to work together.
The mutual attraction had come as a surprise, yes, but it was real.
Wasn’t it? No one could fake the heat and blatant arousal Syrus had shown earlier, when he’d had Eiri pressed against the wall.
They may have started out hating each other, but it wasn’t going to end that way.
Syrus changed his mind awfully quickly, though.
The thought washed into his head unbidden, taking root right in the heart of all his doubts and insecurities.
He might have been able to dig it out if it weren’t true, but now he couldn’t help but wonder all over again.
What had caused the abrupt change in Syrus?
Was it really just a night spent contemplating the future and talking to his cousin?
After all, Syrus had the least to lose in this.
He could easily shove Eiri into a suite somewhere at the far end of the castle and go about his life exactly the same as he’d been doing before his marriage.
They wouldn’t even have to interact beyond the occasional social function, if that.
That thought stopped him cold.
‘Beyond the occasional social function’.
Functions like a royal birthday celebration.
Like tonight. Tonight, when he’d arrived on the arm of his husband, a Vaetrean general and prince, wearing Vaetrean clothing and acting like one of them, something he’d sworn he’d never do.
It was necessary, though, and they were showing some rebellion with the Canjiri embellishments on their clothing.
He may be wearing their clothes, but he’d made sure to hold on to who he truly was.
And next time? When the queen forbids such things, will Syrus keep rebelling? Or will he suggest we comply with her just for a little while, until she calms down? How long before everything Canjiri is gone?
Eiri stumbled back, slumping down onto the small divan in the room, that thought hitting with the force of a tidal wave.
He’d known from the beginning that this little plan was a temporary solution, a compromise to get them through tonight and buy them some time.
But what were they buying time for? How would it be possible to hold on to who he was in the face of the queen’s anger?
He could keep doing as he’d been doing, wearing only his Canjiri clothing, fuck the consequences, but what would he do when she tired of his petty bravado?
Would he be able to keep fighting? Would Syrus defend him?
Mired in his doubts and fears, trying desperately to fight them, Eiri didn’t hear the door open and close. He didn’t even register anyone else in the room until a shadow blocked the dim magelights and he looked up to see Syrus standing there, concerned.
“Is everything alright? The ambassador seemed pretty upset when he left. I had to get my sister to quit talking long enough to escape and get here,” he said, squatting down so they were at eye level. “Was he truly that upset we didn’t tell him our plan?”
He seemed so earnest. There didn’t appear to be deceit in his dark eyes when Eiri looked at him, but could he risk everything on his ability to read the intentions of a man he’d hated just a few weeks ago?
“Hey.” Syrus laid his hand over Eiri’s, and he realized he hadn’t said a word since Syrus had walked in. He knew he wasn’t controlling his emotions like he should, his doubts too raw and fresh, and Syrus cursed quietly. “What did he say? No going back, remember?”
“He called me a traitor.” The words were out before he could stop them. Of everything Kien had said to him, that hurt the worst.
“You know that’s not true, though. The clothes are just temporary until we can decide what our next step is.”
“And if there is no next step?”
Syrus frowned. “Eiri, I promised you that we would figure this out, and I’m not going back on my word. We’ll figure out how to make this work.”
“Why did you change your mind?” He could no longer control the chaos in his head, all his questions spilling to the forefront, and he couldn’t keep them back any longer.
“Change my mind? About what?” Syrus gently squeezed Eiri’s hands, but rather than comfort him, a shudder ran up Eiri’s spine and he pulled his hands free, earning another confused frown from Syrus.
“About me,” he said. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep from flying apart. “You hated me, but one talk with your cousin changed your mind? You despise who and what I am, so what really changed?”
“I already told you. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life fighting and having to watch my back. You told me you felt the same. Don’t let whatever the ambassador said undo all the progress we’ve made, Eiri. Please.”
“You didn’t have anything to lose, though,” Eiri said, shaking his head and plowing through like Syrus hadn’t spoken those last words.
“You could have ignored me forever, and your life would never have changed. Helping me only hurts you. Why would you risk your own comfort for me?” He locked eyes with Syrus, forcing himself not to react to the confusion and hurt he saw there.
“Can you look me in the eye and swear that you had no other reason, no ulterior motive? Can you promise me that you came to me that morning only to make peace, not to save your own skin?”
If he hadn’t been watching Syrus so closely, searching his eyes for the truth, he would have missed the flicker of guilt and shame, there and gone in less than a second. He was watching, though, and he didn’t miss it.
Kien’s accusations earlier had fallen like blows, blunt punches that stole his breath. This, though…
Betrayal didn’t hit like a hammer. It slipped in like a knife, angling between his ribs and up into his heart, stealing not his breath, but the very lifeblood of him. Everything went dark around the edges, and he felt something snap within him, leaving him alone and adrift.
“Eiri…” Syrus reached for him again, but Eiri pulled away, nearly falling off the back of the divan.
Syrus lowered his hand, a flicker of something in his eyes, but he didn’t say anything else.
He didn’t need to. He knew the truth and now Eiri knew it, too.
It was all a lie. Everything. Every smile, every shared meal, every kiss… all a lie.
Eiri’s stomach clenched and he stumbled to his feet, shoving away the hand that came up to steady him, sending Syrus stumbling back.