Chapter Eight #3
Her expression was careful, and it told him that she’d definitely noticed who he was interested in—and family was family no matter what.
As far as Tor could tell, only Larexa and Bavil actually got along.
Pelun spent almost as much time glaring at his siblings as he did at Tor, and their father behaved more like a king than a parent.
Maybe this was simply the way that rulers interacted with the world, but Tor thought there should be a better balance.
It didn’t seem like any ruler was interested in changing that at the moment, unfortunately, and it meant the interactions between the entire family and Tor were somewhat awkward.
Everyone behaved like it was perfectly normal.
On the other hand, given all the issues that Tor had with his own brother, it wasn’t as though he should judge these family relations.
“You… might not be wrong,” Tor admitted, because it had occurred to him that what he really needed right now was an ally. “Can we talk about a hypothetical situation?”
She quirked a brow at him. “Sure.”
“Let’s say that your brother decided that you’d reached an age where you needed to be bonded, you needed to better represent your realm, and you needed to strengthen the ties with your allies. Does that sound like a plausible hypothetical scenario?”
Larexa laughed. “Yes.”
Tor warmed to his subject. “Further, let’s imagine that not only did your brother think that you needed to get bonded, but also that you needed to bond to someone in particular.
Now suppose for the sake of argument that you’re certain that person isn’t someone with whom you’re compatible, but no one’s listening to you.
So while you can’t go against the brother in question directly, you’re trying to demonstrate that really different options have their strengths, too. ”
Larexa was staring at him consideringly, her brown eyes narrowed. “If I’m imagining the correct hypothetical person, I can definitely agree that your choice is… extremely different from the one you were at first offered. But are you altogether certain that the choice you’ve made is what you want?”
“I’m one hundred percent committed to this plan,” Tor assured her, though he knew that wasn’t quite what she meant.
Perhaps she sensed that, because she pursued intently, “And it’s not going to wind up with anyone being hurt?”
Tor assured her, “I don’t think anyone will be.
My goal is that everyone comes out of this with what they want in the end.
” If first impressions were anything to go by, Pelun would be quite relieved for it to come to nothing between them.
“I simply don’t think that anyone should be chosen based solely on their magical strength or their position, do you? ”
Larexa’s face softened. “No, I definitely don’t think that.”
It sounded unguarded and truthful—and the direct opposite of what he’d heard her say in her family’s company. What was going on with these people?
She sighed. “It’s just… a lot of people don’t notice him, you know?”
Tor definitely knew, and now was not going to be the moment that he admitted that he hadn’t remembered Pelun.
Instead, Tor said, “I’ve been trying to get to know him, but he’s been extremely resistant.”
Larexa sighed again. “If we’re back to those hypothetical situations, let’s say that a few years ago there was a… situation, and that it caused some… friction and some injured feelings. And maybe there are some walls.”
Tor scoffed. “More like walls and moats and an iron portcullis surrounded by arrows and spikes and boiling oil.”
Larexa let out a sharp bark of laughter and then clapped her hand to her mouth.
Tor grinned at her, and after a moment, she grinned back. “It’s complicated.”
“It always is,” he agreed.
His mistake had definitely been in assuming this was going to be simple.
He’d been the one to tell his brother and Fernila that bonding and taking someone to bed weren’t the same thing, but he’d come here thinking Pelun would just fall into bed with him and that would somehow accomplish Tor’s goals.
“You need to show him that you’re interested in the things he’s interested in,” Larexa advised him. “I mean, for real. He needs to know that it’s genuine.”
As far as Tor could tell, Pelun seemed to be under the impression that Tor wasn’t genuinely interested in anything.
“I keep offering to do what he’s doing, and it’s not working at all. I respected his wishes about visiting the farms, and training with the guards was an epic failure.”
She offered him a commiserating look. “I heard it was quite an impressive display of magic.”
Put like that, Tor could see why it hadn’t been the way to charm someone who was Unremarkable. Fool.
He didn’t usually think about the magical strength of the people he took to bed.
Those people were usually looking for a different sort of prowess from him.
But as someone who was Extraordinary, he had more magic than almost anyone he encountered.
The rulers of the realms outstripped him thanks to the Fealty they received from their people, but other than that?
It had just never mattered to him… but he could see how it might feel different if you were constantly surrounded by family who was more magical than you were.
Meaning Tor had picked the worst possible way to show off. How could he be getting it that wrong all the time?
It was embarrassing, but now he was getting advice from someone who actually knew Pelun, and that had to count for something.
Larexa told him, “If you’re doing things he likes, you have to prove it’s not just because he likes them. Are you offering to ride with him because he likes to ride, or because you do?”
“I actually like to ride,” Tor assured her. “I’ve been doing it on my own—though I wouldn’t object if I ran into him. But it hasn’t happened yet.”
And Tor was pretty sure that if the man saw him, he would immediately go in the other direction.
Larexa seemed less concerned. “But he’s no doubt aware you’re riding on your own, and that’s a good start. He won’t be impressed if you’re trying to impress him.”
All right, Tor could respect that. He did want to impress the man, and he probably would try something over the top if he thought it would work, but he wasn’t making anything up. He liked to ride and train and all of that.
“That makes sense,” Tor agreed. “But surely he can’t get to know me if we don’t actually spend any time together.”
How could Tor make a good impression if they had virtually no contact?
Larexa considered this. “Let me check in with a few people. I’ll get back to you.”
Tor was a little ashamed to admit that he’d never had to work so hard for someone’s regard before. It was both annoying and a bit invigorating.
The next day, Bavil invited him to go look at the portrait gallery, and since neither Pelun nor Larexa appeared that afternoon, Tor accepted.
Once they reached the long room filled with paintings, however, Bavil turned to face him, arms crossed over his chest.
“Pelun. Really.”
Tor was beginning to get a little annoyed, never mind his reasoning for having chosen the man in the first place.
“And why not Pelun?” he demanded.
An eyebrow rose. “He doesn’t exactly seem your usual style.”
One of the advantages to being friendly with the servants was that in addition to excellent service, you tended to pick up all the best gossip.
“Gotten caught in a compromising position with anyone recently?” Tor snapped.
Bavil’s expression was sharp. “Not recently, no. You?”
“Not by anyone who had more of a right to my attention or affection.”
And Bavil laughed, relaxing and abandoning his interrogating manner. “So your brother has decided that it’s time for you to settle down.”
Ah. It should have occurred to Tor that Larexa might share everything with her brother. She had told him she was going to check in with a few people. This just wasn’t what he’d imagined.
“Essentially,” Tor admitted with a sigh. “And I’m determined to show him that I can make my own choices and that he’s not always right.”
Bavil huffed out a breath. “I can sympathize with the desire to do that.”
Tor might find his brother a gigantic stick-in-the-mud these days, but he sure wouldn’t trade him for King Forex.
He cleared his throat. “So, to lay my cards on the table, you’re pretty and personable, and I’m willing to be personable in return—as long as you understand that absolutely nothing will come of it. It’s clear your father has hopes, but I’m going to dash them.”
Bavil’s lips tipped up. “I don’t actually like men in my bed, so I’m fine with that. My father will think things are going to plan as long as we continue to seem to get along. I’d worry for you, except I have the feeling you won’t have trouble telling him to stuff it.”
Tor grinned. Sure, he couldn’t actually start a war with Tond, but it wasn’t like he was going to be pledging anything to anyone. If Forex got ahead of himself, that was his problem.
“I assume the same deal with Larexa?” Tor asked, just to confirm.
Sighing, Bavil said, “She has, unfortunately, been saying for years that she deserves someone Extraordinary. The fact that you are not just Extraordinary and not just a prince, but the High Prince makes you the perfect candidate.”
“But you’re being thrown at me, too,” Tor pointed out.
Bavil shrugged. “Because I’m the heir, which you might find appealing, and I don’t know that anyone is sure of your preferences. ‘Whatever you want’ is the intention, I think.”
“But not your brother,” Tor pointed out mildly, eyeing him carefully.
Bavil’s lips tightened. “We haven’t all seen eye to eye over the years. The King measures some things in very… traditional ways.”
In other words, he would be as incredulous as Varex that Pelun was the prince Tor had chosen.
Pelun was snippy and abrasive and determined not to give Tor the time of day… but maybe Tor was starting to understand why.