Chapter 8 #2
“Were my previous instructions not clear? I told you I didn’t want you at this meeting.”
Kira’s head snapped toward her friend. “What’s this?”
She thought the oshota were obstructing his path because they didn’t recognize him. Not because they’d been given orders to keep him out.
Torvald glanced at her. “He didn’t tell you?”
“No, he somehow failed to mention it,” Kira gritted out.
Jin reeked of guilt as he avoided her gaze.
“I’ve noticed he’s quite good at manipulating the appearance of a situation to his advantage,” Torvald observed.
“If you don’t like the way I do things, you’re always welcome to take your nose and stick it somewhere else,” Jin offered.
Oh, Jin. You’re only making things worse.
The frustrated anger with which Torvald regarded his son was something parents everywhere would understand.
Having dealt with her friend for decades, Kira sympathized.
Jin didn’t do well with orders. He never had.
Torvald had neither earned his respect nor invested the time or effort to get to know Jin as he was now.
He expected blind obedience when the truth was that Jin didn’t have an obedient bone in his new body.
Or the old one for that matter.
“You stubbornly persist in challenging me at every turn. Did it ever occur to you that I had your best interests at heart when I told you to stay away? Until now, all they’ve had were rumors about your new set of circumstances. Rumors you just confirmed.”
“Maybe you should have told him that then,” Kira quietly pointed out.
Jin was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid. If Torvald had shared his concerns, Jin might have made a different decision. He might also not have, depending on his intentions, but now they’d never know.
“It’s okay, Nixxy.”
Kira scowled. “It’s not.”
She faltered at the wide grin Jin shot her.
For a moment, he looked so happy and young. Bright and innocent in a way neither of them had ever had a chance to be.
She didn’t know what had put that expression on his face, but the delight in it stilled any further words of objection.
“I appreciate it, Kira. More than you’ll ever know, but I’ve got this. Me and him need to come to an understanding.”
“You sure?” Kira asked, reluctant to leave Jin to face Torvald alone.
But maybe that was the problem. She was so used to it being her and Jin together against everything.
To the point that they’d maybe become a little co-dependent.
Jin was asking for the opportunity to handle this matter on his own.
Standing in the way of that would make her no better than Torvald or any of the other Tuann who insisted on seeing Jin as nothing more than a child.
“Yeah,” Jin said with another easy smile.
“You know where to find me if you need me.”
For a moment, Kira didn’t move. Walking away was harder than she’d ever thought possible.
“No maiming,” she said, purposefully dawdling. “No setting fire to anything either.”
“Sheesh, you act like I’m a menace.”
With one last look at him, she headed toward the door, feeling uncomfortably like a parent leaving their child behind for the first time.
Jin called after her. “Just so we’re clear, Nixxy Poo—you’re not to step foot off this planet without me.”
“We’ll see.”
“No, we won’t see. You leave me behind and there will be consequences.”
Jin
“She’s definitely going to try to leave me behind,” Jin muttered under his breath.
He knew that as surely as he knew his new eyes were nowhere near as good as his old ones.
“Roake has been ordered away from this matter. There’s nowhere for her to go,” Torvald commented.
As if that mattered. Kira would find a way.
Jin had better be right there beside her when she did.
“She didn’t ask for my leave,” Torvald observed idly. “She does realize that I’m the emperor, right?”
Jin swaggered toward the nearest chair and threw himself into it. “The Phoenix is a law unto herself.”
The chair rocked onto its two back legs, nearly toppling. Torvald grabbed it before it could go over and put it back on all four legs.
Jin scooted forward and cleared his throat, trying to make it seem like he’d meant to do that. “She had my permission. For her, that’s all she needed. My amazingness will always trump any authority you think you hold.”
That’s just how things were with them. Each other before anyone else.
“I don’t know where you inherited this unfounded sense of self-importance.” Torvald flicked a hand in dismissal at his oshota. They filed out, leaving him and Jin alone.
“I figured you’d want to have this out in private,” Jin said when they’d gone. “Was I wrong?”
Torvald took the chair next to him and regarded Jin with a faint trace of amusement. “No.”
Jin thought as much.
Torvald may have fooled Kira with that display he’d just put on, but he was nowhere near as angry as he pretended. Most of what he’d shown had been bluster and illusion. If he’d really been committed to keeping Jin away, Dylan would have stopped them. He’d aided them instead.
Why?
Because the emperor allowed it.
“You set a spy on me,” Jin announced calmly.
Torvald didn’t pretend not to know what Jin was referencing. “You mean Dylan. Hardly. He’s there for your protection.”
“He’ll report everything he sees or hears.”
Torvald considered Jin with an unreadable expression. “Not every fight is one you can win. I won’t dismiss him.”
“For my own protection, right?”
“Among other things.”
Jin would be interested to know what those other things entailed. He doubted Torvald would be willing to share, however.
“A negotiation then,” Jin suggested.
“I’m listening.”
Jin considered which of the four options he’d brainstormed last night were most likely to gain him the outcome he desired.
“I’ll allow the oshota to guard me. I won’t try to give him the slip or fight him on anything regarding my safety, but nothing he learns while in my company goes any further.”
It had taken Jin a long time to come to this decision.
He, like Kira, abhorred feeling weak. However, ignoring a problem didn’t make it go away.
As much as he might pretend otherwise, the truth was that he needed time in this body to adjust. To figure out the full extent of its capabilities and how to use them to his advantage.
Until then, he was a sitting duck.
If it had been just his neck on the line, he might have taken his chances. For Kira, he’d compromise.
Accepting Dylan in the interim was the only path forward.
“What if that’s not good enough? What if I want you to keep your distance from Roake’s heir instead?”
“That’s never going to happen.”
If Torvald was smart, and Jin knew he was, he wouldn’t go there.
“And if I insist?”
“The negotiation breaks down and I return to my old ways.”
Jin touched one of the threads in his mind. The robotic silver scorpion clinging to the ceiling let go. It dropped, curling its legs in protectively.
A sheet of golden ki obliterated the scorpion before it could land on the table next to Torvald.
Jin made a high-pitched sound of distress as he took in the remains of what had been his precious baby. Torvald’s ki had basically disintegrated it, leaving nothing but a pile of twisted, melted metal and ash behind. “Did you have to do that? It took me forever to construct.”
Torvald regarded the remains with a faintly interested expression. “I was wondering where that ore went.”
Jin grabbed a handful of the ash, letting it dribble out of his hand. As expected, there was nothing left. Somehow, Torvald had stolen its essence, rendering it useless for Jin’s purposes. The remains now felt as inert and lifeless as humans always thought they were.
That was the last of that ore too. He’d have to find a new supply if he wanted to make more spawn. And he would make more. More spawn meant more protection. More capability.
And ultimately—more freedom.
Without them, he was a boy locked in a flesh prison.
“Alright, you have a deal. With one caveat,” Torvald announced, surprising Jin.
“What is it?” Jin asked carefully.
“You accept training from me.” He tapped the scorpion. “And you don’t make any more of these without my permission.”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” Jin confessed.
There was something he hadn’t told Kira yet, that his spawn weren’t just a source of protection or a way to go incognito. They were something of a compulsion. A release valve for the pressure that sometimes built in his soul. He needed that outlet of creation.
Otherwise, he feared he might go mad.
It didn’t start until he came to Ta Sa’Riel. Something about the planet created a need in him. It had only grown in the months since.
“I’m aware it will be difficult, but I have faith in your discipline,” Torvald said.
“Kira would question your sanity if she heard that.”
“Something tells me that’s not entirely true. You two are very good at using appearances to deceive others.” Torvald’s knowing smile made Jin’s smirk vanish. “Do we have a deal?”
“As long as I have Dylan, I can come and go as I please,” Jin tested.
He had a feeling if he left any room for confusion that Torvald would take advantage.
“I will not stop you.” Seeing Jin’s doubt, Torvald smirked. “Or you can remain locked in the palace until such time that I judge you capable enough of protecting yourself.”
“Like you did Devon?”
Jin’s brother was the only member of his family to openly visit him during his coma and after. In that time, the boy had shared a lot about his childhood and himself in an effort to get close to Jin.
One of those things was how lonely and isolated he’d felt until he entered his apprenticeship with Roake.
“I had one child taken from me; I will not let that happen again.”
The stark admission made Jin swallow what he’d been about to say. He wasn’t ready to examine that whole ball of messy, complicated emotions.
He hadn’t been during Torvald’s single visit. He wasn’t now either.
“You have a deal,” Jin said, rising.
Torvald watched Jin make a hasty beeline for the exit. “Running away again?”