Chapter Eighteen
Nemiah
Virion slept most of the journey, his face a peaceful mask and breath barely audible over the din of the tracks.
“Vir. We near Liaberos, and you need to freshen up.” Nemiah nudged Virion as he stirred, helping him up with a gentle hand to shuffle to the washing quarters. He yawned and shuffled, water splashing for a few minutes before he came out, face clean, eyes lightly shaded, and hair pinned neatly into place.
“Am I presentable?”
“You would be even in your night robe and uncombed.” Nemiah drew Virion to sit on his lap and hugged him happily.
“I think I prefer your cold side a little more right now, husband.” Virion squeaked as Nemiah nibbled affectionately at his back.
“I have to get it out of my system before we stop. Remember to keep your emotions silent, too.”
“I’ll follow your lead.”
“Good. Because you are my consort. If something happened to me, you’d be king. My mother would attend and advise you in some capacity, but you carry my heir and would rule until they came of age.” Nemiah nuzzled down his back gently, enjoying the last of the affection he could have for a time.
When the engine slowed, the thalmic hum of the machines lessened as the clack of the tracks came at longer intervals. Soon after that, the excited cheers of Liaberians could be heard, but Nemiah made no mistake that the cheer was for his or Virion’s arrival. When the machine came to a stop, riders poured from the doors, rushing out to meet friends and family long parted, tradesmen with new wares, sensitive goods, and books on trade and loan between their conservatory and the Liaberian’s.
Nemiah flicked a finger at the window coverings to peer outside before his guards opened the doors.
King Alluin sat imperiously near his carriage as the commoners ran about, moving in ordered chaos to make way for him. He looked thinner than last Nemiah had seen him, pale. Nemiah took the first step off the train, and the clang of a guard’s shield rose as a projectile of some sort made way to his direction.
A young boy sat clutching a fistful of rocks, glaring in their direction.
A guard turned, hand on his sword, and Liaberian guards drew their weapons.
“Wait.” Nemiah gestured for Virion to stand back. “He’s a child. Ask why he needs to throw stones before drawing steel.”
He gave the child a long, cool stare, waiting for the shaking child to speak, his expression twisting somewhere between terror and furiousness. “Speak.”
“The thalmway killed my father!” The child, venerated, threw another stone, pinging off a guard’s helmet. The Liaberian soldiers moved in but, surprisingly, King Alluin called them back.
“How?” Nemiah parted the soldiers and earned a well-aimed rock to his shoulder, scuffing the leather there.
“He went to work on the tracks and never came home!” The boy tossed another stone that missed Nemiah, a flop of dirty hair of some shade of brown falling over his forehead.
Turning, Nemiah addressed his soldiers and had one leave to enquire about any deaths related to construction. As far as Nemiah was aware, there were no casualties.
A woman from the crowd shouldered her way through and grabbed the boy, tears pouring. “Sima. Stop this. Please!” Her softer voice petered out among the whispers of the crowd.
“You killed our prince and my father and you’ll take until we’re burned down like all the other places the Drashil warred!” The young boy shouted from the woman’s arms and a guard returned with a whisper, confirming no deaths were reported.
Virion, against Nemiah’s orders, took a step out and rested a hand on Nemiah’s shoulder as he came into view. “I assure you, young one, I am very much alive.”
Nemiah turned, cautious of reacting too much, but offered Virion a hand. If he couldn’t stop his mate, he could at least protect him.
“Now, would you like to come here with your caregiver and tell me what happened?” Virion’s thalms flared lightly, the light casting of a spell evident in the hum of magic between them. A protection spell? It made sense.
The child calmed and the woman lessened her grip, approaching the guards and Nemiah with shaking caution. “Please. He doesn’t understand.”
Virion knelt down and held out a hand, taking the little boy’s without hesitation. The rocks fell from his palm and he reached out, hugging him with a huff and whimper.
“His father went to work on the rail and didn’t come home. Sima presented as omega and… He took the job off distant and sent a letter that he’d moved on.” The woman’s face twisted uneasily.
“You his mother?” Nemiah tilted his head.
“Aunt. Mother passed on a few years ago.” The woman reached down to tug on the boy’s shoulder.
“That’s not good at all.” Virion kept the hug going as he patted the boy’s back.
“And I can’t keep up with him. I have six of my own, and their father is off in the mines.” She sighed heavily.
“Well, what are your thalms, Sima?” Virion pulled back, and the boy whispered.
“Thirteen! That’s a good number.” Virion smiled at the number, barely above average. But for a commoner, not bred or blessed to be successful, it was good. “And you’re omega?”
The boy nodded.
Virion turned his head and gave Nemiah a long stare. Tons of meaning lay in his expression.
“Can you read or write?” Nemiah’s voice rolled smoothly.
“I can read a little and write my name.” Sima sniffled.
“Good. My page needs an apprentice. If so you choose, you may become our ward and earn a wage, learn to write and maths. It appears your father is fine, he just chose to find you a new mother and hasn’t found one for you, quite yet.” Nemiah stared at his nails and glanced up at the glistening-eyed child, then his aunt who nodded appreciatively.
“New momma?” His little pink lips formed a soft O, dusty hair falling over his equally dirty face.
“I have three lovely imps and a castle of women that have no problem spoiling an apprentice. You may feel free to come with us when we leave. Leave contact with my guards if that sounds acceptable. After all, it was my thalmway that enabled this situation.” Nemiah reached out and patted the child’s head a few times. He lowered his voice as he rested a hand on Virion’s shoulder. “Are you a boy or other?”
The boy’s eyes widened. “I’m omega… I want to be a boy though…”
“You are a boy. As am I.” Virion gave the boy one more hug and smiled.
“You’re welcome to him if you are offering him an apprenticeship.” The aunt fanned her hand at herself and nodded. “Would you like that, Sima?”
“Will I get to see the Blessed Prince?” His shrill little voice squeaked out of Virion’s arms.
“I promise, all that I can. We can make plans for you to dine with us often. Perhaps luncheon?” Virion pulled away from the boy and tilted his head.
Sima nodded.
“Okay. Miss, speak with our guards and have arrangements made. He’ll ride home in our carriage. I promise, and he will write and visit as possible.” Virion watched as she patted his head and led him off, balancing himself with a hand on his side. When his face slipped that cold veil back over, he glanced toward his father.
King Alluin’s expression was twisted. It was unmistakable from his expression. He saw Virion’s belly and beneath the sourness of his expression lay many complex things that Nemiah needed to decipher.
“My dear father-in-law. Now that the dramatics are over, how are you?” Nemiah urged Virion at his side and held his chin aloft.
“I see you’ve made do on your promise of an heir. And, Virion, it is nice to see you.” His mouth twisted into a forced but nervous smile.
“He has, and I’ve grown fond of him.” Nemiah guided Virion forward and into the carriage by King Alluin. “But he’s graciously said that he will make time to come visit the springs. It was a tough decision, but the moon speaks her truth loudly, and has no problem speaking for her sister.”
“Y—yes. Our sun speaks firmly, too. She made it clear she would like Virion to answer to her. Strange that she would speak to an—” He wrung his hands nervously, that expression he hid full of all the bitterness he couldn’t contain. “A prince.”
Nemiah’s cool gaze didn’t change, but Virion’s posture stood swift and tall, lavishing in his father’s discomfort. “I find I rather enjoy speaking with Virion as well. His spellwork is fantastic and has a mind worthy of conversation for hours.” Nemiah aided Virion in sitting before taking his own seat.
“Yes. I have heard that… There’s been a lot of things I—oversights.” Alluin climbed in and closed the carriage door. “After you have the child. You are free to return. I encourage it. I—we could find another husband—”
Virion held a hand up with as much demure calmness as he possessed. “No, sir. The moon and sun blessed our union. Our mating is true.”
“But I forced you into—”
“And that changes nothing. Nemiah has treated me kindly and I bear his child. I will bear more if the goddess wills.” Virion cut his gaze to Nemiah and offered a lingering stare, something softening in his eyes.
“Well, you understand—had I any idea that you were… They say you have thirty-two—”
Virion raised his hand once more. “Your lack of foresight does not necessitate my need for change. I respect that the goddess has required me to do things. I will do that which is required by the goddesses. After, I will return to my home. I am as the Drashil have declared me, their Silver Prince, and I have fallen into my role comfortably.”
“Surely you cannot be comfortable there!” King Alluin glared at Nemiah. “Or is it your husband that holds your opinions? Does he threaten you?”
A flicker of pride rose in Nemiah’s chest as he slanted his gaze toward Virion, who merely stared at his father as emptily as Nemiah had coached him to.
“Really, Father? Now you care?” Virion raised a perfect brow and smirked before casting his gaze away. “But no. I have far more freedom and fun in Drashil than I did here. My handmaids saw me off, and my mother-in-law expects me home soon to see to state matters.” Virion inspected his nails and buried his hands in his lap politely.
Alluin pursed his lips. “I see. Omegas aren’t—”
“Omegas aren’t allowed to do much of anything in Liaberos, Father. We’re not even allowed to have gender. Does it terrify you to find out I am capable?” Virion didn’t glance at his father, but Nemiah sat back and did his best to hide his amusement.
“I see you’ve been spoiled there. Was it so bad here, in Liaberos? You had fine food and drink. The best education, a maidservant, and a wardrobe full of finery. I would pay you, Nemiah, handsomely, to have Virion back.”
Nemiah shook his head. “I’d rather go back to war than part with him, and you know how much I detest war.”
“Father. When you had me led from this castle, not a soul gathered to bid me farewell. I was escorted out like a dismissed chambermaid.” Virion’s flat voice held none of the sting in it that Nemiah would have added. “When I left for this short trip, my handmaids all waved me farewell. My mother-in-law nearly wept. I had staff that lamented my departure. I am loved, Father. I wasn’t loved here. I haven’t been for a very long time. Not since Mother, at any rate.”
The words soured King Alluin’s expression, and he opened his mouth to say something a few times, but ultimately said nothing else as the carriage made its way toward the castle.
“It’s the harvest, isn’t it?” Nemiah peered out the windows as they passed by vendor stalls overflowing with goods.
“It is.” Virion peered out a window and waved toward curious onlookers. So many people milled about, an influx of Drashili and dusk wandering about with introspective gazes, enamored with the new fare. Virion didn’t pay it much mind, as he favored Drashili food, and had only doubled down on that since pregnant.
“Ah, yes. Citronelia is in season for us. We’re exporting some on this train back to Drashil, as well as grains and fruits. You’ve also brought more flashpine and blacksteel for the continued leg of the tracks. I believe the geothalmists have leveled the path between here and Likwyf. We had intended to do Senesmal, but they were far too interested in weapons transport and you know how we feel about that.” Alluin regained some of his composure.
“Ours is not for several weeks still. Is there anything you’d fancy while here, my Silver Prince?” Nemiah said, enunciating those last two words.
“I wouldn’t say no to some fresh citronelia. Birch syrup is in the winter so, if I must , I’ll return then.” Virion hesitated and frowned. “I’ll be due by the winter’s coldest, so perhaps the syrup will have to be brought to me, then.”
“I’m sure you and the nymphs will be so busy looking after our little one that you will hardly have time to miss it.” Nemiah forced a laugh that earned a cold glare from Virion.
“I will not be deprived of birch syrup.”
Alluin nodded sagely. “Just like his mother.” Those last four words left a bitterness hanging in the air. Rather than retract his words or apologize, he spoke quietly. “We were arranged and did not love one another. But we did raise our children, and when she carried, she was insistent upon her flavors even while nursing.”
The words seemed to soothe Virion, and he went back to staring out the windows. “Nemiah and I are very fond of one another. Your match was well made, Father, even if not to your intended benefit.”
“I’ve angered the goddess, you understand.” Alluin’s soft admission made Virion turn his head.
“I heard. The moon told me. I am needed to bless the Vitalis springs so the kingdom may prosper. To my knowledge, bargaining me away from my husband was not part of your orders, so I’d appreciate you not to make foul accusations or attempt to lure me away from my mate.” Virion’s flat voice sent a chill down Nemiah’s spine. Part of him realized how much he appreciated Virion’s positivity and sweetness when they spoke. “We pray in the morning and I’ll speak with her as requested. I’m well rested and you can take me straight to the springs. If there’s no further business, we’ll leave on the morrow. If there is further business—”
“Saria is being married,” King Alluin said. “In three days. You should stay for it.”
“Unless I am required to attend, I was not invited, nor was a missive sent informing me. I assume that neither my husband nor I are welcome.” Their missive didn’t mention her marriage, only that the springs needed his attention. Virion was well aware of the lack of invitation or news.
“I—it was an oversight, I am sure.” Alluin cleared his throat.
“I’m sure. Seeing as Saria didn’t speak to me when I departed nor when I was wed—I see every need to return the curtesy. Besides, I didn’t bring a gift. It would be rude.” Virion inclined his head toward the door as the carriage rolled to a stop before the castle entrance.
“What you do for the springs is more than enough of a gift.” His father clenched his fists as Virion stood. The door opened at the hand of a guard and Nemiah took his hand, stepping out before the king to assist Virion down. The guards blinked in shock, clearly surprised that Virion would go before his father. And, from the pinch of some of their eyes, they held clear contempt for the prince.
Turning his head over his shoulder as his father rose to depart, Virion shrugged. “I do it for the goddess, not you. You made it clear I was no longer of the sun, nor a member of this kingdom.”
Alluin stood with plain defeat in his expression and descended the steps. The disgust and humiliation of someone forced to bow before a beggar showed plain on his face.
“The springs?” Nemiah gestured for Alluin to lead.
As if wanting to argue, Alluin paused, opening and closing his mouth a few times before nodding and leading the way.