Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
RHAZIR
The grand chambers stretched around me like a gilded cage, all marble and silk and impossible luxury.
I stood at the center of it, still as stone, feeling the weight of my own displacement like chains around my limbs.
Everything here spoke of wealth beyond measure, the furniture carved from precious woods, the carpets woven with threads of gold, the windows that offered views of paradise itself.
Yet none of it belonged to me, and I did not belong to it.
The silence pressed against my ears with suffocating intensity. Without Serin's presence to anchor me, the rooms felt vast as an ocean, empty as a tomb. I was a warrior without purpose in a place that had no need for warriors, a sword grown dull from lack of use.
Here, the priests walked unguarded through streets where flowers bloomed instead of blood pooling.
Their soldiers, the few I'd glimpsed, wore armor polished to mirror brightness, ceremonial pieces that had likely never tasted battle.
I'd heard tales of their navy clearing pirates from shipping lanes, but nothing that would inspire songs or raise monuments.
This was a land where peace reigned so completely that men like me were relics of a harsher age.
And Serin... Serin was beginning to bloom in this place like a flower finally given proper soil.
The thought twisted in my chest like a blade between ribs. I was both protector and poison to him, the reminder of duties he wished to forget, the chain that bound him to a crown he'd never wanted. How long before he realized he could be truly free if only he sent me away?
He is never going to be mine, I reminded myself with brutal honesty. Even if he stayed forever in this paradise, even if he found the happiness that had eluded him at home, it would never be with me. I was his shadow, his faithful sword, nothing more.
The walls seemed to press closer with each breath. I needed air, movement, anything to escape the suffocating luxury that reminded me how far I was from belonging anywhere at all.
The corridor beyond our chambers was a marvel of architecture, one side open to gardens through graceful arches supported by columns of rose-veined marble.
Breeze carried the scent of jasmine and orange blossoms, the sound of water singing in fountains, the distant laughter of young men at leisure.
On the opposite wall, statues of gods stood in alabaster glory, Aerius with his scrolls, Elyon crowned with light, others whose names I didn't know but whose beauty was unmistakable.
All of them naked. All of them perfect. All of them watching me with stone eyes that seemed to whisper accusations I couldn't quite hear.
My throat constricted as I passed beneath their silent judgment. Even the gods here were beautiful, untouched by the harsh necessities that had shaped my world. What place did I have among such divine perfection?
I stepped onto the gravel path that wound through the gardens, seeking solace in movement.
The grounds sprawled in every direction like something from a dream - hedges trimmed to geometric precision, flowers blooming in riots of color, fruit hanging heavy from branches that bent low with their bounty.
Fountains trickled and sang, their pools filled with fish that darted like living jewels through crystal water.
It was beauty made manifest, nature shaped by loving hands rather than conquered by iron will. Everything the Three Isles were not.
Laughter drew my attention to a fountain where several young men splashed each other with abandon, their joy infectious despite my melancholy.
Water caught the sunlight as it arced between them, and their skin gleamed with moisture that made them seem carved from living bronze.
They were utterly unconscious of their beauty, completely at ease with their partial nakedness, and I found myself envying that careless confidence.
Here, I was the strange one. The foreign curiosity who wore armor like a second skin and carried weapons to a place that had forgotten war. They belonged; I was merely tolerated.
"Lost in thought?"
I turned to find Ander approaching along the path, his arms full of scrolls bound with ribbon. The young acolyte moved with that fluid grace common to all Eletherians, as if walking were a form of dance he'd mastered without conscious effort.
"Forgive me," I said, stepping aside to let him pass. "I was simply... exploring."
"No forgiveness needed. The gardens are meant for contemplation.
" He gestured with his burden toward a building whose spires pierced the sky like prayers made stone.
"I'm bound for Aerius's temple with translations.
Would you care to walk with me? I could show you the scriptorium, it's said to be the largest in the world. "
The offer was kindly meant, but I shook my head. "A scriptorium has no use for a soldier like me."
"Perhaps it has use to a soldier like you," he countered with a smile that held unexpected depth.
Something in his tone made me look at him more carefully. There was intelligence in those amber eyes, a perception that went beyond his youthful appearance. After a moment's hesitation, I fell into step beside him.
"May I?" I gestured toward the scrolls he carried.
"Gratefully." He transferred half his burden to my arms with visible relief. "These contain poetry from the outer islands, songs of love and longing that our scholars wish to preserve. Beautiful work, though melancholic in its way."
We walked in comfortable silence for a time, the gravel crunching softly beneath our feet. Around us, the gardens hummed with quiet life, bees among the flowers, birds calling from the trees, the distant murmur of conversation from other wanderers enjoying the afternoon peace.
"The unexpected delegation has caused quite a stir," Ander said eventually, his tone carefully neutral.
Delegation. The word sat strangely on my tongue.
"I'm not so certain we are a delegation.
" The response came out more curtly than I'd intended, and I silently chided myself to be more diplomatic. Though perhaps that was expecting too much. I’d never been a diplomat, only a sharp sword that stood between Serin and mortal peril.
"What are you, then?"
"Visitors," I said, choosing ambiguity over truth. "His Highness is charmed by your island and your customs."
Ander's smile held no mockery, but I caught the flicker of something else, understanding, perhaps, or sympathy. "You will forgive me, but you must know that men tremble when someone from the Three Isles is charmed by them."
The words hit like a physical blow. "We are not here to take anything from you," I said, more defensively than I'd meant to.
"No," he agreed quietly, studying my face with those perceptive eyes. "You are not."
We walked further in silence, the weight of unspoken knowledge heavy between us. Finally, he spoke again.
"It is difficult to accept that fine young men such as His Highness and his sworn sword are from the Three Isles at all."
"Are we so notorious?"
"Don't you know the answer already?"
I pressed my lips together because, of course, I did know.
The Three Isles were spoken of in whispers throughout the archipelago, their reputation built on conquest and cruelty.
King Dorin's appetite for war had made us wealthy but hated, powerful but alone.
Even here, in this sanctuary of beauty and peace, that shadow followed us like a curse.
"Perhaps we should not have come," I said quietly.
"It's hardly my place to state the position of my elders," Ander replied with diplomatic care, "but I would argue that you are most welcome. Perhaps there are lessons to be learned on Eletheria even for those who do not seek them. Perhaps the Three Isles will prosper because of your visit."
I thought miserably that the Three Isles were prosperous enough.
The only way for the nobles to grow richer would be to sack these very temples, to strip the gold from their altars and sell their treasures in distant markets.
The thought sparked immediate guilt, this was the way of my adopted home, the only home I truly knew.
But there had been another home once, hadn't there? Before the ships came, before the chains, before I was forged into the weapon they needed me to become. Sun-kissed sands and mud-brick huts, the rhythm of tides and seasons, living with the land instead of fighting it...
The memory slipped away like water through cupped hands, leaving only fragments. A woman's voice singing. The taste of sweet fruit. The feeling of belonging somewhere that wasn't built on the bones of the conquered.
For one terrible, wonderful moment, I let myself imagine what freedom might look like. Not the harsh liberty of victory over enemies, but the gentle freedom this island offered, the right to simply exist, to find beauty and peace and perhaps...
The fantasy took shape before I could stop it: Serin naked in golden sunlight, lounging on silk cushions beneath swaying palms. His eyes warm with invitation as he extended one graceful hand toward me.
"How long I have dreamed of this, Rhazir.
" His voice soft as prayer, sweet as honey. "Come to me."
I stumbled on the gravel path, reality crashing back like cold water. Heat flooded my face as I struggled to banish the forbidden images that had sprung so vividly to life.
"You seem troubled," Ander observed with gentle concern.
"Not at all." The lie came out strangled, unconvincing even to my own ears.
He was quiet for a moment, then: "There are ways we cope with tension, you know. It's far more acceptable on Eletheria than on the Three Isles, I'm sure, but all men are made equal. And we all have the capability to feel pleasure."
The heat in my face intensified until I feared I might burst into flame. "Thank you, but I am... not..."
"Don't dwell on it," he advised with the same gentle smile. "We're far too relaxed here to worry about misunderstandings."
We had reached the steps of Aerius's temple, its columns rising like prayers toward heaven. I handed over the scrolls with hands that trembled only slightly, grateful for the excuse to end this mortifying conversation.
"Thank you for the company," I managed.
"The pleasure was mine." Ander paused on the threshold, amber eyes studying my face with what might have been pity. "Sometimes the greatest courage is found in accepting what we cannot change, and changing what we cannot accept."
With that cryptic observation, he disappeared into the temple's cool shadows, leaving me alone with my churning thoughts.
I stood there for a long moment, watching pilgrims come and go in their flowing robes, all of them at peace in ways I could barely comprehend.
Ander's offer echoed in my mind - the suggestion that I might find comfort in another's arms, might ease the terrible longing that consumed me with every breath.
But the idea felt wrong, hollow as a cracked bell. I could imagine lying with someone like Ander, losing myself in meaningless pleasure for a few hours, but it would solve nothing. The ache in my chest wasn't merely physical desire that could be sated by any willing body.
If it couldn't be Serin, it wouldn't be anyone.
The realization settled over me like my worn armor, familiar, protective, and impossibly heavy.
I was bound to him by chains stronger than steel, forged in the fire of eight years' devotion and many more years of barracks on the Three Isles.
Even if he found what he was looking for on this island of wonders, even if he chose to stay forever in paradise, I would remain what I had always been.
His devoted protector. His heart's guardian, even if he never knew the cost of that guardianship.
I turned away from the temple and began the long walk back to chambers that felt more like a cage with every passing hour, carrying my secret love like a wound that would never heal.