Chapter 4
Chapter Four
K ing Caisa Aguilar of Vyrica was known for many things. Keeping his people well looked after was one of them, and having enough coin left over for extravagant parties was another.
The Talius family, due to their patriarch being the king’s chief advisor, was always invited to these parties. Flavian’s two eldest sons, with their own positions in the ruling court of Vyrica, had invitations, along with their wives and, where the occasion permitted it, their children.
That left Leander, who was newly mortal and, having never met his father until only a fortnight or so ago, was not yet afforded an official position within the aristocratic circles. Regardless, Caisa was very excited to meet him, and this next party was being thrown in his honour.
The children were disappointed that they were not invited to this event, especially Kira who, at twelve, thought of herself as one of the adults. Leander had promised all four children a day out to make up for their disappointment.
“You will conduct yourself with dignity tonight, Leander,” Lord Flavian murmured softly yet firmly, his tone suggesting severe consequences for his son if his words were not heeded and obeyed.
“You will mingle, you will make polite small talk, you will drink no more than two glasses of wine and consume no further alcoholic beverages. And you will not embarrass this family.”
“Yes, Father,” Leander replied, working hard to keep the sullen edge out of his voice. Though he did nothing to stop the eye roll; he was walking behind his father so had no fear that he would be seen as being disrespectful towards his sire.
Verin saw, probably, but he said nothing.
The six of them arrived together and were announced into the room in order of importance.
Once they were all in the hall, Leander chose his favourite family member and followed Verin as the Talius lords split up to begin circulating.
Every event they attended was an opportunity for Flavian to spread his influence, after all, as Leander was fast learning.
The Talius family were some of the first to enter the grand hall, which was decorated with no expense spared for the event.
It was magnificent, in a sickening way. The room had far more elaborately carved stone and woodwork than Leander thought possible in the mortal realm.
Though he was not sure what he should have expected.
Either way, he was more than a little impressed. Sort of.
Leander remained with Verin and Aerilyn for a while, meeting other guests and making polite small talk (just as his father had requested of him) before excusing himself from his brother’s side.
Verin’s friends were all heirs and lordlings, not the type of people Leander could tolerate for very long.
Especially when they simultaneously looked down on him and asked what could be considered to be rudely probing questions about his status as a fallen demigod.
The glass of sparkling wine, given to every guest on arrival by the circulating slaves, was gratefully received by Leander, who took a sip of his drink before looking around for someone who seemed interesting enough to talk to.
He had a strong notion of what he should be doing.
His father and brothers had given him some instruction of formal court events.
And half of the information was unnecessary for, although he had not spent much of his time in Saeren, Leander was well versed in the etiquette of nobility, having visited noble house upon noble house throughout Cariun in his wanderings as a god.
Ultimately, it turned out that he didn’t need to go looking for social groups to talk to. They gravitated towards him.
Soon, he was surrounded by curious noblemen and women who wanted to meet their patron’s son.
“You have never visited the city with your mother, why is that?”
“This is her city, not mine.”
“Do you offer your patronage elsewhere, then?”
Leander realised, suddenly, that the growing ache in his chest was not a physical ailment. He irrevocably missed his previous life as a demigod and couldn’t stand to talk about it. He resolved to do as Taskevi had commanded and become worthy of his domain.
“No. When I was… when I was immortal I quickly learnt that lies transcend borders. Also it’s worth pointing out that my mother and her siblings are a millennia old. Maybe older. I am but twenty-eight. I haven’t had the chance to, ah, sew my seeds.”
“I did not realise you were so young.”
“And he’s not even the youngest member of the divine court.
” A new addition to the group appeared at Leander’s right and clapped him on the shoulder.
“Lord Leander, it’s a pleasure to meet you.
If you wouldn’t mind my stealing him, ladies and gentlemen, my father would love to make our esteemed guest’s acquaintance. ”
Remembering himself, Leander quickly bowed at the head in greeting to the Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Vyrica, Lucien Aguilar. “Your Highness, the pleasure is entirely mine.”
Lucien smiled softly. “There is no need to be so formal, Leander. Unless you desire for me to call you ‘Myracle’ all evening.” He paused, considering. “Though I suppose that would be inappropriate given your mortal status. ‘My lord’ then?”
“Yes, I would quite agree, let us dispense with the formalities,” Leander said, deciding the prince was appropriately down to earth.
He liked him. Leander had never enjoyed the honorific ‘Myracle’ and neither had his mother.
She had gone to great lengths to impress upon him that respect was earned, not taken.
It seemed Lucien was of equal educational pedigree.
“Good. I am glad we could reach such an accord. I despise being held to a higher standard simply by virtue of my birth. I hope to earn it through following in my father’s footsteps. My people deserve that from me.”
The pair walked through the parting crowd to make their way up to the raised dais where King Caisa and his queen, Melanie, currently sat.
Melanie was his natural aunt, sister to his father.
They had not met, but Leía always had nice things to say about the woman she considered to be her friend.
As they approached, Leander looked up into his aunt’s eyes, and he saw a twinkling warmth, and felt the calm serendipity she was feeling in anticipation of meeting him.
“A noble ambition. I look forward to watching you succeed,” Leander replied honestly.
“Thank you.”
They reached the King and Queen and Prince Lucien made short work of the introductions. “May I present Lord Leander Talius.” Leander hid his smile—after just talking of removing formal forms of address, here Lucien was doing just the opposite.
As was expected of him when meeting a kingdom’s monarch, Leander bowed deeply from the waist, far deeper than the respect he had just shown the prince.
“Your Majesties, let me express my deepest gratitude for both your goodwill in allowing me sanctuary in your proud nation, as well as an invitation to join in your celebrations.”
King Caisa was an old man with a kind face. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes darkened as his face crinkled when he smiled. “It is our honour, Lord Leander. You are most welcome. For as long as you wish to stay, you have a place with us.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Leander responded. “I am but a temporary guest.”
“And what do you think of the city so far, Lord Leander?”
“I find Saeren to be truly a spectacle, Your Majesty. A city full of people who love their king, and rightly so.”
King Caisa smiled, a genuine one as his face flushed with the supposed pleasure of being complimented by a divine being. He was a proud man, Leander could tell that instantly.
“I’m glad to hear that. Are there any sights or experiences you have enjoyed particularly?”
“The Bazaar was a delight. The vibrant colours and aromas were unlike anything I have ever experienced before.”
“Ah yes, our market is renowned. Did you have the chance to sample the local cuisine?” the king asked, eyes alight with the chance to speak of his beloved kingdom.
“I could not avoid it even if I tried, Your Majesty,” Leander laughed, falling into a natural cadence of pleasantries with ease. “The rice and spiced lamb was a symphony on my tongue.”
The king inclined his head in agreement. “I’m very pleased you enjoyed it. Our culinary traditions are a source of great pride in Vyrica.” He waved a hand, as if gesticulating a sign for the whole nation. “Is there anything else you wish to explore during your time in Saeren?”
“I’ve heard ample talk of the ancient ruins to the east of the city. I should very much like the opportunity to visit them. With your permission, of course.”
“It would be my pleasure to arrange a guide to show you around the ruins. Prince Jarryn has also expressed an interest in them, perhaps you can go together.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Leander smiled warmly, if not genuinely, “your generosity knows no bounds.”
“It seems Saeren is a haven for lost souls suddenly. A fallen demigod and a kinslaying prince. What are we to do with the pair of you?”
It was a rhetorical question, but Leander felt compelled to answer. He opened his mouth to speak. “I’m sure Prince Jarryn and I require minimal upkeep, Your Majesty.”
The king laughed. “We shall see. We hope to see more of you at court, Lord Leander.”
Registering the clear dismissal from the king, Leander bowed a final time and backed away, waiting until he had retreated a few steps before turning around and continuing to walk away. He had, truth be told, expected a longer introduction, given how much the king supposedly yearned to meet him.
Lucien fell into step beside him. “And breathe.”
Leander barked out a laugh. “It wasn’t that bad. Meeting my father for the first time was significantly worse.” Leander probably shouldn’t have said that, but he couldn’t take it back now that it was out there.