Sacrifice #2
“And you’ll have one,” Sindar said quickly, bowing his head. “As many as you want. Command me any time, day or night, and I will obey. I was born to serve you.”
“What the devil is wrong with you?”
“This must be the work of the angels, because I’ve never felt more right. I’ll make amends, I swear to you, no matter how long it takes.” Sindar lifted his eyes, risking a look. Ardor’s hatred for Xandar was gone. His gaze was now thoughtful as he considered his smitten consort.
“No more groveling and begging. None of that matters to me. You have one job, and I expect you to do it. When I’m pregnant, I’ll consider forgiving you. Now return to your apartment and go to bed.”
Another command! And one easily obeyed. Sindar rejoiced, his heart swelling. He bowed with the most ridiculous flourish he was capable of and happily marched off to follow his Flower’s orders.
* * *
AS HE LAY in bed, Sindar obsessed over their conversation, analyzing every word and reflecting on each detail.
He concluded Ardor was right to scorn pretty Kysanian words.
Goddess knew what promises and lies he’d been fed by Xandar.
Sindar was no better. He was all talk and had done nothing to prove his devotion.
After stewing all night over how to win over the most perfect man in the world, he had an idea.
He waited until he and Patel were crossing the great hall to attend the trade meeting before he casually said, “I want to invite Ardor’s champion.”
If he’d broached such a thing in private, Patel would have given him a merciless tongue-lashing, but in public his adviser was hamstrung. “I strongly recommend against that,” Patel said, clearly distracted and not taking him seriously.
“Kysan’s Flower should not be left unguarded.”
“Don’t underestimate the acolyte. They’re trained to do far more than brush hair. We’ll assign additional royal guards after His Eminence is pregnant. One Pavarian in the palace is enough. The last thing we need is a Pavarian champion snooping around getting up to goddess knows what.”
Sindar stopped walking. “I’m not asking, I’m telling.”
Patel glanced aside. Keeping his voice low, he said, “We should discuss this in private.”
“We’ll discuss it now.”
“We’re in the middle of sensitive trade negotiations, and we shouldn’t—”
“Yes, yes, I know. We’ll open the door for the Pavarians to levy additional concessions, and the court will view it as a sign of weakness.
The king convinced them Ardor’s champion was a security risk, and they’ll want to know why we suddenly changed our position and what we’re gaining from it.
I’ve considered the optics. It will be a mess, and I don’t care. ”
Patel blinked, momentarily surprised. “You should care. You’re especially vulnerable right now, and the court’s goodwill matters.
Word has spread about the king’s new affinity for his Flower.
That’s well and fine for dispelling any rumors to the contrary, but inviting the champion now will raise questions about Ardor’s influence on political affairs.
They’ll say he’s manipulating you at best, and controlling you at worst.”
“Then I need you to make sure that doesn’t happen. Find a way, Lord Patel. If you’re not capable, I’ll find an adviser who can.”
Patel was staring fully at him now.
“What?” Sindar asked impatiently.
“For a second, I would have sworn you were him,” Patel muttered. He shook his head, as if shaking the thought away. “Very well, Your Majesty. I’ll put together a plan and we’ll schedule a meeting in the coming weeks.”
Ha! Nice try. There was a time Sindar would have fallen for it, too. He lifted his chin. “That’s not necessary. I’ll discuss the matter with the envoy this afternoon.”
Patel’s cheek twitched. “Kings do not negotiate directly with envoys! At the very least, have the sense to use an intermediary.”
“Very well. You will discuss it with her this afternoon. You have a few hours to prepare.” Sindar had to hold back a smile at the flicker of irritation in his mentor’s eye.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Patel said flatly. “I suppose I will.”
Sindar’s pleasure at getting one over on good ol’ Patty faded as the hours passed and he considered the potential fallout.
He’d surely get an earful at their evening meeting.
Sindar prepared by ensuring the liquor cabinet was thoroughly stocked and taking a hearty sniff of coca before his adviser arrived.
“Did you pull it off?” Sindar asked when Patel trudged into the office, his arms full of paperwork. He immediately put the records aside and went straight to the whiskey cabinet.
“The groundwork has been laid. They immediately withdrew their most recent terms for reconsideration. Goddess knows what they’ll throw at us now.” Patel wearily climbed onto the stool to pour himself a drink. “Well, at least you have his interests at heart.”
“I want to woo him,” Sindar said.
Pate’s quiet acceptance vanished. “Have you gone mad?” he asked, pausing his pour to glare at Sindar. “Do you have any idea how inappropriate that is?”
“Why?” Sindar countered. “He’s not allowed to touch anyone else. Who else is he going to make love to?”
“Sweet goddess in heaven. You daft boy. A Flower has freedom in one regard: their heart. Do you really expect him to pretend it’s yours? At least have the decency to keep your relationship professional! What happens when your brother wakes up?”
For the first time, doubt tugged at Sindar’s heart. He hadn’t considered any of that. He’d only thought of… well. Himself. “Well, damn,” he said. “I’m in love with him. What am I supposed to do?”
“I told you, you’re not in love! This is proof!
You’re selfish. You lack empathy. It’s not love, it’s obsession.
Let’s say he reciprocates, and you actually win his heart.
What happens when Xandar returns, and Ardor is once again wed to a consort who cares nothing for him?
Can you even conceive how devastating that would be? ”
“Selfish people fall in love all the time. Stop diminishing my experience,” Sindar said, turning his nose up, trying to make light of it all even as a leaden weight settled in his stomach. Patty was right. He really hadn’t thought this through.
Patel sighed. “You understand the problem. Good.”
The lead in Sindar’s stomach grew heavier still.
How could he have been so blind? Voicing such things would only give his mentor satisfaction, so Sindar pivoted to new business, and the conversation quickly moved on.
Nevertheless, Patel’s words stayed in the back of his mind, poking and prodding, keeping him up at night.
Xandar could not, under any circumstances, resume his place atop the ruby throne.
If Ardor warmed to him and Xandar returned, his brother would be the undeserving recipient of that warmth.
The thought of Xandar so much as looking at his Flower sent Sindar’s heart into jealous spasms and drew a thick, painful lump to his throat.
Xandar had to be dealt with, and waiting for someone to slip up and reveal his location was getting him nowhere.
Bani wouldn’t budge, and Patty had neatly tied up every loose end.
The guards accompanying Xandar that night had been reassigned, and the staff were clueless.
There was only one person left: the doctor who attended Xandar after the accident.
That doctor monitored his brother’s condition and reported back to Patel.
The place kept five physicians on staff, and Sindar couldn’t show up at the infirmary and start asking them all weird questions.
The surest way to find the doctor was to have an accident of his own.
A big one. Something serious enough that he would be taken to the same trusted physician without delay.
So Sindar fell off his horse. In the most spectacular way possible.
It wasn’t easy. The hit to his pride was almost too much to bear, and that wasn’t the only part of him that got pummeled.
The injury had to be believably severe, which meant it had to hurt.
Sindar had a vague memory of getting clotheslined by a branch when he was very young.
The pain, as he recalled, was manageable.
Oh, what a traitor the mind was! If he hadn’t taken a good sniff of coca prior, he might have really been sorry.
As it was, he was only mostly sorry. He took a branch across his chest while cantering, flew off his horse, and landed on his back in the dirt.
His guards hurriedly deposited his aching body on a litter, and as he lay there, nearly blind with pain, his only salve was that no one would ever believe a man in his right mind would do such a stupid thing on purpose.
They took him to Doctor Jain. She seemed familiar, and he struggled to place her as throbbing pain washed over aching body.
As they deposited him on the bed, he noted this was no ordinary examination room.
The doctor’s office contained many scientific instruments, and the shelf was brimming with thick textbooks.
This doctor was a scientist and a physician.
Jain examined him silently. When his guards left, she lifted her eyes and said, “You shouldn’t be so reckless, Your Majesty. Put aside your pride. The King of Kysan is not known for his riding ability.”
“I’m better than everyone thinks,” he said, despite all evidence to the contrary. “Is this what happened last time? I don’t remember the accident.”
She ignored the question. “You should not ride so much. It’s reckless.” She pressed down firmly on his chest, and he winced. “Amazingly, you’ve only suffered deep bruising and possibly a mild concussion.”
Finally, he placed her. She was the doctor who attended the breeding ceremonies. He was so consumed by Ardor’s presence that it was a wonder he remembered her at all. “You’re Ardor’s doctor.”
“I am His Eminence’s personal physician,” she said, her tone mildly corrective.
“How is he?”