Chapter One #3
“You’re not listening!” Tor nearly shouted.
Varex never listened when Tor tried to talk to him about Ada, tried to make him see the truth. Varex had treated her like a political advantage rather than like his sister, and Tor wasn’t sure he could ever forgive him for it.
How could Varex think that politics were more important than anything else? He hadn’t been like that before. Tor blamed Fernila. His brother had only gotten worse since he’d married.
Sure enough, Varex was still not listening. His face was stern and angry, and he threw the words out like he was orating to an entire room of citizens, not speaking to the brother who was standing right in front of him. His voice was hard and implacable.
“You are incapable of keeping a civil tongue in your head or of maintaining a meaningful position here. So I will tell you what to do. You will stop drinking. You will stop seducing the queen’s attendants.
You will stop having orgies. You will visit Vayrin.
You will seriously examine your marriage prospects.
You will make a real effort at courting.
These are orders from your King. Understood? ”
Jaw clenched, biting back words that would only make this worse, Tor bowed stiffly. “As your Majesty commands.”
He stalked out of the room, seething with anger and indignation.
His hands were clenched into fists, and he had to make a conscious effort to relax them.
He was itching for a fight, but since it was the people he’d just left who deserved it, he turned towards the inner levels of the castle without punching anyone.
He wouldn’t wake Rin, because he wanted the man to be in a good mood when Tor tried to convince him to come on this fool’s errand.
It was true that Varex hadn’t ordered anyone else not to have alcohol or orgies, and while part of Tor was tempted to see what would happen if he were to just go and watch other people, he didn’t want to risk anything happening to Rin if Varex refused to acknowledge the absurdity of his orders.
But those orders had been issued, and Tor was inclined to take them as a challenge. He wasn’t about to concede defeat or let the man think that Tor was failing.
No part of it was going to be pleasant, but surely Varex couldn’t expect his orders to hold forever. He was probably expecting Tor to come crawling back asking for forgiveness.
Tor wasn’t crawling anywhere.
He did recognize that starting a brawl would be foolish, however, and that was what led him to his current destination.
It was impossible to remain angry in the face of a being who fit in his arms and had the most ridiculous wispy golden-red hair that Tor had ever seen in his life.
Tor, Varex, Ada, and their parents all had dark hair, so the red was clearly from Fernila.
“If you wanted to take nothing but your hair from your mother, that would be much appreciated, baby girl,” Tor cooed at her as he walked her around the room.
Pamuna, her nurse, watched them as she darned on the other side of the room.
She was probably about the same age as the Queen, and she also came from Filon.
Unlike Fernila, she was dark-haired and unobtrusive.
Fernila had been the one to choose her for the position, and Tor had had serious doubts about putting an Unremarkable in charge of the heir of the United Realms. Why not choose someone with enough magic to defend his defenseless niece properly?
When he’d raised his concerns, his brother had pointed out that he had an entire complement of guards whose job it was to defend the princess. What she needed from a nurse was… nursing.
Varex had also accused Tor of being prejudiced against anyone that Fernila suggested, which…
Well, the thing was, she was just so annoying as a person that Tor couldn’t imagine her making wise choices about anything.
She was young, she’d never been a mother before, and it had taken nearly five years before they’d had a child.
All of those things counted against her as far as Tor was concerned, and he couldn’t imagine how Varex wasn’t horribly disappointed with the results of the marriage contract between Alossa and Filon.
Except he always seemed happy. To an embarrassing degree, really.
And to be scrupulously fair to Fernila, in this instance, at least, she’d chosen wisely.
Pamuna might not have more than the most basic magic, but she didn’t need it to take care of Cala.
She was tireless in her dedication, patient even if Cala was screaming, and she made the baby at least as happy as her parents did.
She was always able to coax a smile out of the little girl, even when she was in the worst mood.
She also maintained a hawk-eyed vigilance, and Tor had to respect her for that.
Plus, she was polite enough to take up mending or crafting or something when he was present so that it didn’t look quite so much as though she were watching his every move like he were going to drop the baby.
He’d been doing this for nearly six months, now, and he had this part figured out.
It was possible that Cala just confused him with her father, but he liked to think that the little girl could tell when he was the one visiting. She almost always offered him a gummy smile, and her gaze had grown more intent as the weeks passed.
“You’ll be good while I’m gone, won’t you, sweetheart?”
Cala grinned and blew a spit bubble at him.
“That’s the spirit,” Tor said with his own grin.
“You’re a woman after my own heart, you know.
Don’t be too serious. You’ll end up like Yomil or Fernila.
Honestly, I’m not even sure that you should take after your father.
How about you take after your uncle? Don’t forget how to enjoy yourself, all right? ”
He tickled her under her chin, and she grabbed onto his fingers and tried to shove them all in her mouth.
“Sweetheart,” he protested, laughing, “that isn’t going to work. How about I eat your fingers?”
He proceeded to pretend to do so to much babbling glee from the baby in his arms—as well as much amusement from Pamuna, who was probably smirking because both he and the baby ended up covered in spit.
He caught her eye, and she flushed but didn’t lower her gaze.
He liked her for her spirit. She was never hesitant to tell him when Cala needed to go to bed or if he was doing something that she thought wasn’t appropriate—though he’d been cautious with a being who was so impossibly tiny he couldn’t help but think of her as fragile.
He figured that once she was four or five, he would get to be the best uncle ever.
It was to his advantage to have Pamuna on his side and not trying to bar his access to Cala. It was clear to him that, given her way, Fernila would make sure that he never saw her daughter, and Tor would do anything to avoid that.
That meant that Tor would have stayed away from Pamuna even without Varex’s warning.
In fact, it meant he stayed away despite the warning, pushing down the impulse to seduce her precisely because he’d been told not to.
Cala was more important than his issues with his brother, and Pamuna was good for the baby.
He felt more settled when he finally gave Cala back to Pamuna, even if he was still annoyed with life in general and his brother and his wife in particular. It was impossible to be annoyed with a baby, especially one who shrieked with laughter when you pretended to eat her fingers.
There was no way that Tor was going to attend dinner with Varex and Fernila in the mood that they were in, so he swung by the kitchen and charmed the cook out of a meal.
She included two pints of ale and a flagon of wine without his even asking, which told him that Varex had been more right than Tor wanted him to be about how visible his entertainments were.
Still, though, it wasn’t like Cook was looking upon him with disapproval.
In fact, she seemed to be abetting him, and that didn’t suggest that he was doing any harm to the great and mighty image of the Crown, did it?
But it was useless arguing with the High King. What Tor had been able to do with his brother years ago was becoming less and less manageable with the man who now sat on the throne.
Tor headed out to the stables and gave the ale and wine to the stable hands. He wasn’t in the mood.
He was still there—and had possibly groomed his horse and then fed Monster too many carrots and apples—when Rin found him.
“I thought to see you at dinner. There a reason you’re lurking, Tor?”
“Yes,” he grumbled sullenly.
Rin leaned against the side of the stall door, ankles and arms crossed.
This showed his arms off to particular advantage, a fact which they were both well aware of, as it had featured in several ploys to lure someone into bed.
Despite his high level of magic, Rinil had never shirked on the physical aspects of his training. He had particularly impressive biceps.
Just at the moment, he was the picture of nonchalant unconcern, all golden blond and casual, amusement lurking in his whiskey-colored eyes.
If only seduction were the order of the day, they would be all set.
“And are you going to share your reasons, or am I meant to guess?” he drawled.
“I feel certain it would be far more entertaining for me if you guessed,” Tor said, already feeling some of the tension slip from his body.
Rin grinned at him. “Your brother not delighted with you? A proper scolding?”
Tor groaned. “All right, maybe not as fun as I was hoping. But he was far more unreasonable than normal.”
Rin laughed. “Do tell.”
“First, you’re going to agree to come with me, aren’t you?” Tor wheedled.
Rin’s eyes narrowed. “With an introduction like that, how could I possibly resist?” He gave in and flashed a grin. “Of course I’ll go with you.”
Tor hoped his sigh of relief wasn’t too audible. “This is why you’re my favorite.”
“What have I just signed myself up for?”
“I’ve been given a series of explicit orders. No drinking. No orgies. No more seduction of the Queen’s lovely attendants.”
Rin grimaced. He’d been enjoying it nearly as much as Tor had.
“I suppose it couldn’t last forever,” he bemoaned. “Honestly, we were running out of choices. She may have lots of attendants, but they weren’t infinite.”
“Oh, it gets better,” Tor assured him in a tone of voice that made it clear it was the exact opposite.
“A vow of chastity?” Rin asked with a smirk.
“Worse,” Tor said, rather wishing at the moment that he hadn’t given away all the ale. It wasn’t like Rin would have tattled.
“What could be worse than a vow of chastity?”
“I’m being sent to Vayrin,” Tor told him.
To give Rin his due, he was quick. “She is lovely.”
“But I’d have to do more than look at her for the rest of my life!” Tor snapped.
Rin made a face. “True. Are we fleeing?”
“Can’t. These were actual orders from my king,” Tor spat the words out, “because I’m an incompetent ass whose presence is hindering the functioning of the castle.”
For a moment, the levity fell away, and Rin straightened. Seriously, he asked, “What do you need?”
Tor sighed. “Your company on what is sure to be the most depressing trip that we’ve ever taken together.”
For an extra-long moment, the other man continued to stare at him, clearly gauging his mental state. And then he nodded sharply and relaxed again, leaning back against the stable wall.
“Of course. We’ve always said we’re ready for the next adventure. You can hardly deny that we’ve never done anything quite like this before.”
Tor couldn’t help but laugh, even as he protested, “That’s because this is the most awful thing that we could possibly do.”
“Not the most awful,” Rin reassured him promptly.
“Oh, no?” Tor challenged.
Rin grinned at him slyly. “Fernila could have had a sister.”
Tor gaped at him. “Bite your tongue!”
Rin only laughed, and Tor relaxed in spite of himself.
Offering his hand, Rin said, “Come on. Let’s stop sulking in the stables.”
Since he was uncomfortably aware that he’d been doing something an awful lot like sulking, Tor allowed himself to be tugged outside.
“When did you want to leave?” Rin asked.
“Tomorrow,” Tor said after a moment’s consideration. “Better to get it over with. And I’m not sticking around to have anyone accuse me of not doing my duty to the realm.”
“That’s the spirit,” Rin said, slapping him on the back. “Shall I round up the troop?”
Tor nodded. “Might as well. However many you think is appropriate.”
Varex wasn’t going to want Tor wandering the countryside unprotected, and if Tor had to travel, he’d rather do it with a group of people he trusted.
Even if he wasn’t going to be drinking any ale with them or carousing like they were.
It was as if his brother had had all the joy sucked out of his life and was determined to do the same to Tor.