Chapter 30 Syrus
Syrus
Fraught tension and barely organized chaos filled the following month as Syrus and Eiri prepared to depart Vaetreas.
Despite countless searches, sweeps, and lockdowns, Kien C’Marlo evaded capture and eventually, resources had to be pulled away from his hunt back to matters of the kingdom.
He remained a wanted man, but with no leads, there was little they could do.
A small part of Syrus couldn’t help but wonder just how badly the queen truly wanted him caught.
Obviously, the man had been working with someone in Vaetreas to remove Eiri, and no one stood to benefit from his husband’s death as much as his mother.
Syrus hadn’t spoken to the queen in any unofficial capacity since that day in her throne room.
Their meetings now were brief and always with at least three other people present, usually Syrus’ father Syrano and at least two council members.
Queen Delia kept to the point, going over his new duties as ambassador to Canjir and site overseer of the Vaetrean mining operations.
She never once strayed into anything personal, not even to inquire about his health after being poisoned.
Recovery from the stali poisoning was slow, as he’d learned the hard way.
Even now, weeks later, he hadn’t fully regained his stamina.
The healers said the poison had damaged his lungs, which explained the lingering cough and shortness of breath whenever he exerted himself too hard.
They couldn’t say for sure how long those symptoms would last or even if they’d ever go away, which he tried not to think about too long.
There were many things he didn’t let his mind linger on these days.
Too much had happened too quickly, and only time would help him deal with it all.
The betrayal of his family cut the deepest, and for the first few days of his recovery, a darkness crept over him, leaving him in a foul mood and unwilling to talk to anyone.
The one silver lining through it all was Eiri.
No matter how sullen Syrus got about his family or how frustrated he became when he didn’t recover as quickly as he wanted, Eiri stood by him.
He didn’t let Syrus stew too long, pulling him out of the depths with teasing encouragement or, a few times, a heated argument.
Now, though, they didn’t storm off after a fight and let it fester.
Through trial and error, they were learning to back off long enough to calm down, then talk it out.
Now, though, they finally had a day to relax.
Their ship bound for Canjir left tomorrow morning.
Syrus had spent the morning overseeing the loading of the ship, ensuring some spiteful guard didn’t tamper with their belongings.
Eiri joined him, partly to keep an eye on him, since he’d woken up coughing this morning, but also to get close enough to the water to restore his magic.
Like Syrus, it’d taken time for Eiri to recover from his magical burnout and to rebuild his power back to what it had once been.
“Should I tell them we’re going to be late?”
Eiri’s teasing voice pulled him out of his thoughts and Syrus blinked to find his husband standing in front of him, a basket in his hands and an amused smirk on his face.
“Not a chance. Let’s go before they kill each other.”
For their last day in Vaetreas, Syrus planned to spend as much time as possible with Xan and Ellis.
They were the only ones he found he’d truly miss once he left.
Rather than hide away within the tense confines of Lodie Palace, though, he’d planned an outdoor lunch down at the beach.
The clouds hung low with the promise of a late spring rain, which meant the beach would likely be deserted, which suited him just fine.
Walking through the corridors of the palace together, Syrus openly held Eiri’s hand. He’d passed the point of caring what his mother thought, their relationship breaking beyond repair the moment she’d decided his life was an acceptable cost to keep a lucrative trade agreement.
Over the last few weeks, he’d noted a subtle change among the people here.
The courtiers took their cue from their queen and were coldly courteous in public, but more than once, he’d seen their eyes linger on him.
Hundreds of them had witnessed the scene in the throne room, even if the finer details had been too quiet to hear.
But they’d seen him appear in the throne room, alive if not well, hours after their queen had declared him dead, murdered at the hands of his husband.
There was nothing the court loved more than gossip and while he hadn’t heard the details, he knew the rumors were flying.
They still didn’t care for Eiri and most didn’t bother to hide it, though.
Their prejudiced views wouldn’t change until the queen changed, and that was as likely as the sun reversing course in the sky.
The palace staff were a different story.
The only people who gossiped more than soldiers were servants, and the story of what had happened ran wild in the kitchens and laundry rooms of the palace.
How wildly exaggerated they’d become, he couldn’t say, but the basic facts seem to have spread.
The serving staff he encountered throughout the day all greeted him with friendlier smiles, and their ingrained dislike of anything Canjiri had morphed into a hesitant curiosity.
It wasn’t warm acceptance, but it was better than the haughty dislike of the nobility.
A gentle mist of rain dotted Syrus’ face when they stepped outside, little more than a fog, but refreshing after being inside the last few hours.
He kept walking, but a tug on his hand stopped him.
He looked back to see Eiri standing still, his head tilted back and his eyes closed.
Eiri took a slow breath, letting the mist fall on him, and his lips curved into a soft smile, more serene than Syrus had ever seen him.
For the first time, Syrus saw Eiri with his guard fully down, and in that moment, his heart clenched in his chest and his thoughts ground to a halt, his world narrowing to just the two of them.
Before Eiri, Syrus had never given much thought to marriage.
His mother and father loved each other, in a way, but their marriage had been political.
He knew from whispered rumors that both had been unfaithful to their vows in the beginning, but that ended when the queen began having children.
Not out of respect for each other, but to ensure there were no questions of her children’s lineage.
Theirs was a partnership, not a romance.
His siblings had all married for political advantage, as well, which was likely what awaited Corrine and Ellis, as soon as someone made a worthwhile offer to their mother. He’d hoped to avoid that fate by devoting his life to the military, but clearly that hadn’t worked.
Learning he’d be married to a raider, he’d accepted that he would never have a partner he truly loved.
When he’d first decided to attempt to make their marriage real and get to know each other, he’d hoped for a truce, at best. He never thought they’d get beyond that.
As they’d grown to know each other, he’d come to respect Eiri’s fierce resilience, and he’d started to hope they could be friends.
The first time they’d kissed, swept up in a wild, tempestuous lust, he’d known they could be more.
But it wasn’t until the night of his sister’s birthday party, the night that had sparked the fire of his mother’s rage, that he’d realized something altogether terrifying.
When Eiri, with all his defiance and anger, trusted Syrus enough to compromise to protect their marriage, Syrus knew then that, given a real chance, he could fall in love with his husband.
They hadn’t been given that chance, though.
Everything they’d been building had been swept away in the tides of betrayal and political treachery, leaving only the desperate struggle to survive.
Then came the weeks of recovery, then planning, messages flying back and forth between Vaetreas and Canjir to prepare for their arrival, hunting for Kien, packing up Syrus’ entire life to move to the island, and all the chaos that came with such an upheaval.
They’d barely had a moment together to breathe, let alone examine the status of their marriage.
Now, standing outside in a soft summer rain, watching Eiri completely at peace for the first time they’d known each other, a bolt of clarity hit Syrus.
He loved Eiri.
Something so simple, yet so profound, he could barely breathe with the realization. He, Syrus Vardor, prince of Vaetreas, loved his husband Eiri C’Dari, Canjiri raider and his rival of over a decade.
In that moment, the last few months reformed, and he could see it all with new eyes.
What he felt hadn’t come from nowhere. It had grown as they got to know each other and dragged down the walls built by years of prejudice, ignorance, and pride.
With every compromise they’d made, every bit of hard-earned trust they’d shared, they’d built something new between them.
Syrus blinked, realizing only a few seconds had passed, but it felt like an eternity as his entire worldview changed. Eiri still stood in front of him, though, eyes closed.
The words sat heavy on his tongue, but now wasn’t the time for them to be set free.
Too much had happened, and their lives were still in a state of chaos.
Xan and Ellis were waiting for them, waiting to share one last meal with them before they were separated, with no idea of when they’d see each other again.
So, Syrus swallowed the words. They could wait for now.
“Ready to go?” he asked instead when Eiri opened his eyes and that soft smile fell on Syrus.
“I’m ready.”