Chapter Twenty-Five Elician #2
Leferge shakes her head. ‘You understand nothing of our history. And worse, you’ll have taught him to believe it too.
Death should kill Alest and Gillage both during their challenge; perhaps then we’ll finally have a ruler with some sense.
’ She leaves, and hot rage boils through Elician’s body as she disappears into the crowd of soldiers still trying to set up camp.
His fingers wrap around the hilt of his sword, and he clenches and unclenches his hand as he stomps this way and that looking for Leferge, Partho or Cat.
He spots a line of blue and follows a row of Guardsmen until he finds the familiar structure of the tent he and Cat and were given for this journey.
He shoves back the curtained entrance, finding Partho and Cat talking like they always are.
Tension bleeds from Cat’s shoulders when he sees Elician. ‘I was worried,’ he says.
‘Leferge had some things to say,’ he replies, a bit too short-tempered. He winces at his own tone, apologizing even as the bitter words linger on his tongue.
‘Is there a problem?’ Partho asks.
At the moment? Elician thinks, looking at his husband.
No. Cat is here, safe and alive. He has a loyal guard, one who will defend him as Lio has always defended Elician.
He needs to do nothing more than what he is doing.
Questioning his suitability to reign or his potential efficacy on the throne has no place in the here and now.
Elician shakes his head. He wants to reach for Cat, wrap him in his arms, feel his weight against his body, press his lips to Cat’s hair.
He settles only for a light touch on Cat’s arm.
‘Difference of opinion,’ he says, forcing a smile. ‘That’s all.’
‘About what?’ Cat asks, leaning into his touch.
‘That the reason Altas and Endura happened is because your mother loved your father very much – her opinion,’ he clarifies as Cat’s brows furrow and the corners of his lips drop. ‘Not mine.’
He doesn’t know what he was expecting with that revelation.
In truth, as he looks at Cat, he isn’t entirely sure he should have said anything at all.
Perhaps it would’ve been better to lie, to change the topic or shrug it off.
But Cat seems accepting of the news. ‘That’s not what happened,’ Elician argues uselessly.
‘You don’t divorce the person you love. You don’t send them away to—’
‘The most guarded prefecture in the country?’ Partho cuts in. ‘Where any threat against him or his child would be dealt with by the most highly trained military force in Alelune?’
‘She was the Queen of Alelune,’ Elician snaps back. ‘Her word was law—’
‘Elician…it’s different in Soleb,’ Cat says.
‘The female child of a queen will always be more valuable to our people than a son or a husband,’ Partho explains.
‘Our stella is the future of our country, because her bloodline cannot be shaken or denied. Marias had cost Alelune Altas, and he had been incapable of giving Queen Alenée a daughter. It was…expected for him to be put aside. And when he wasn’t, when no action was made to secure a proper heir, there were attempts on both his and Alest’s lives. ’
‘That’s sick.’ Elician shakes his head, then shakes it again.
He raises a hand to his mouth, presses his palm to his lips to keep from saying more even as Partho snarls and stalks towards him.
Cat steps between them. His blue stone necklace sways in his rush, bright light shimmering in an arc in the corner of Elician’s eye.
‘But everything about your ascension to your throne was without strife, correct?’ Partho growls. ‘Your life was perfectly happy and content in your golden tower with your fawning disciples who never once questioned who or what you were? Or the stain you would bring to your throne?’
‘Stop,’ Cat pleads. Elician lurches towards the man, but Cat shoves him back. ‘Stop it!’
Partho does not stop. ‘I rarely ever agreed with Queen Alenée on anything she said or did, but she did love Marias and Alest more than the throne could tolerate. And her hesitance to send them away led to her marrying the man who tried to murder them in the first place.’
‘What?’ Even Cat seems startled by that. Partho’s attention falls to him in a moment.
‘Rutherg was the most likely candidate behind the attacks when you were a child. He had the status, connections and vantage point to be the most suited for Queen Alenée’s hand.
With Marias gone, he would have naturally been pushed by the nobles at court as a valid alternative.
It was an open secret that he had made the attempt, but since it had failed, and she divorced Marias afterwards, it was seen as an effective means to an end.
She sent you and your father to the Blue Palace, and married Rutherg to satisfy a court that had increasingly grown intolerant to her familial affections. ’
‘And you left Alest alone with this man, when he was a defenceless boy?’ Elician asks. ‘He had tried to kill him before and you just let him get another chance?’
‘I was sworn in as a Blue Guardsman in Marias’s service – I could not leave the grounds without him, and Marias was not invited to join a day of familial bliss. Alest had five personal guards with him and a retinue of—’
‘Of people who did not care if he lived or died, and you just let him—’
‘I dove into the water on my own,’ Cat says. He presses one hand against Elician’s chest, pushing him back. ‘It was my fault.’
‘You dove in because someone threw this into the river,’ Elician retorts, pressing his own hand to the necklace.
Cat stares at him, bewildered. But Elician has no doubt in his mind.
He knows what he saw in his dreams, what he has picked up and overheard.
‘How long had they bullied you before that, I wonder,’ he murmurs.
‘What did they say, this group of well-meaning individuals? You’ve already told me how important this is to you.
’ His fingers curl around the moon pendant’s smooth edges.
‘Surely they must have known that too. What did this Rutherg say in the hours before you made the choice to enter that river? Because as far as I remember, you were nine years old. And I can think of plenty of things that would have enticed a nine-year-old to jump to his death, thinking he had to do it to make his parents proud.’
Cat’s hands fall. They curl at his side, trembling.
His eyes fall to the floor, and they stay there.
‘They drag you out,’ Elician continues. ‘Rutherg touches you and dies. Others too, I imagine, before they work out what happened. A notification is sent to the Blue Palace, and you all return to Alerae. Your father dies—’
‘I killed him,’ Cat says stonily. ‘He didn’t just die. Something was done to him. I was done to him. I killed him. If you’re going to create this narrative, then say it properly.’
Elician refuses. He carries on, leaving those words where they belong: entirely unsaid. ‘Then your mother sends you to the cells because she loves you very, very much. That’s what you consider love?’
‘I asked for Alest to return to the Blue Palace with me,’ Partho says.
The aggression has left his voice. His posture closes inwards.
Cat is not looking at him; he is not looking at either of them.
‘I begged the Queen to accept. And she denied me, not because she didn’t love her child, but because the alternative would have been worse. ’
‘They would have killed her,’ Cat murmurs. ‘They would have placed a regent on the throne and killed Gillage in his cradle.’
‘I thought your sacred bloodline was important,’ Elician spits out. ‘And yet murder or attempted murder of the royal family seems to be rather commonplace.’
‘If the gods don’t want them to die, then they won’t die,’ Partho says. ‘Altas and Endura are proof enough of that. All those people you pulled back from Death because she allowed it to happen.’ Elician bites his tongue, but shakes his head in wordless fury.
Cat continues speaking as if neither of them interrupted in the first place.
‘And after my mother and Gillage were dead, the armies of Alelune would have turned on the Blue Lands, and I would have ended up in the Reaper cells no matter how hard Partho or the Guards protested. Hundreds, maybe thousands of our people would have died in a brutal civil war for nothing. It is the same thing your father tried to engineer when he arranged for my q— my mother’s death in the first place.
The same thing we are trying to stop from happening now.
You don’t have to forgive my mother for what she did to you, Elician, I will never ask it of you.
But you do not have the right to expect me to hate her for what she did do for me.
’ Finally, he looks back up. Elician’s breath catches in his throat.
His eyes burn with tears. ‘She found every excuse to let me see the sky. She made sure I still had some semblance of an education. She…she tried to help me escape. She must have known that Ranio was going to try to smuggle me from Alerae. And if I hadn’t killed his horse, I would have left Alelune then.
And…even when she sent me to kill you, she must have known what would happen.
She gave me a choice to never return. To stay in Soleb, away from the cells. She did that for me.’
But she should not have had to. For months, Elician has been furious with his own mother.
Furious that she sent him to Alelune to be tortured for a plan meant to lure Queen Alenée into a trap – one that would end her life and propel Elician to take his own throne.
It had been worth it, to his parents, to destabilize Alelune at such a critical juncture.
His father’s letter, finally opened and read in Altas, had detailed all of their hopes and dreams for him, had described exactly how they had prepared Elician for this moment.
And it had been just as his mother said: a man’s extreme fantasy for a bloody victory over a fated enemy, all to create a tagline in the history books of their country.
It also wasn’t shy to detail how grateful he should be that they hid his affliction from the world so he could still ascend.
A mother’s love was meant to shape you into something stronger and more powerful than before, so you could persevere over harsh consequences.
Cat’s mother did not love him like that. Her actions shaped him into a survivor. Persistent, adaptable and contemplative. One who continued to face setback after setback but equally continued to strive for the next best thing.
Queen Alenée was complicit in Elician’s torture. She ordered for Lio to be killed too.
And she loved her son.
‘She…she failed my brother,’ Cat acquiesces. ‘She had not wanted him, and…he didn’t deserve that. He didn’t ask to be born an unwanted child. She should have done better. But Leferge is right. She set this path into motion.’
Just as I did, Elician knows.
‘Partho,’ Elician says out loud. ‘I would like to be alone with my husband now.’ Partho does not move.
‘Please go,’ Cat sighs.
‘I’ll be just outside—’
‘Go.’ This time, the order is clear. Partho doesn’t like it.
He glares at Elician over Cat’s head, but he bows.
He steps out of the tent. He lets the canvas fall shut behind him, and Elician has Cat in his arms the moment the fabric falls.
Cat’s head presses to his chest, his arms locking tight behind Elician’s back.
‘I’m sorry,’ Elician whispers.
Cat doesn’t reply, but he holds on even tighter, and Elician tucks his chin over the curve of Cat’s head and holds him until their legs can stand no longer.
Then, curled on the hard and comforting discomfort of a travel pallet, he holds him even tighter still.
‘I’m sorry,’ Elician repeats. And he keeps repeating it, as if the simple repetition of the words can block out every sin from the past, including those he’s not even guilty of.