Chapter 10 #2
“What would you like them to be, Your Highness?” Leander quipped back, throwing the phrase Jarryn had supplied to him in the brothel back at him. “Because, from where I stand, there is not a single thing I could say to make you give me the benefit of the doubt, let alone trust me.”
There was a vague attempt by one man—he thought it to be Lord Haldon, he could not be sure—to bring the conversation back to the purpose of the gathering, but he was shot down by a single look from the Desannian prince.
Around the room, Leander could sense the threads of curiosity radiating off nigh on every person in the hall. They all wanted to know the same thing Jarryn did, but none had the courage to ask.
The only difference was that they all paid homage to his mother, Leía, and would all defer to her decision to leave Leander under their care and protection.
As an outsider, Jarryn had no such compunctions about questioning the Goddess of Art and her decisions.
Leander wondered, briefly, if Taskevi’s kindness in sentencing him to live out his punishment here among the people he was supposed to call his mortal kin was fair.
Maybe it was a disservice. Maybe it was even cruel of her.
He’d like to think the best of the benevolent goddess.
But right now, in this ornate room, he wasn’t so sure.
“I refuse to allow our proud kingdoms to be destroyed by the whims of the gods. The rest of you might feel willing to show your bellies, but I won’t allow the gods to play puppeteer with our destiny.
This war is of divine making, I am sure of it.
Nevari is not a rash man. He would not sever ties with his strongest ally unless he was being guided to it. ”
Leander leaned forward. “Your ignorance is astounding, prince.”
“Enough.”
Jarryn had opened his mouth to retort with undoubtedly scathing words, but he was stopped by King Caisa.
“You toe the line of blasphemy, Prince Jarryn,” Caisa said from his seat at the head of the table. “Lord Leander is a guest, welcomed into this city and this room by me, just the same as you. You would do well to remember it.”
Jarryn, evidently taken aback that someone, even a king, would give him such a public dressing down, had the good sense to retreat and sit down… but only after he had stared down the king, clearly debating whether he could get away with arguing his point further.
“And you,” Caisa addressed Leander. “Your mother might be a goddess, and your father my most decorated adviser, but you are here by my grace and goodwill. You would also do well to remember your place.”
Leander had been expecting that. He murmured a quick apology (to Caisa, not to Jarryn) and he also repositioned himself in his seat.
The room quietened and tensions dissipated as the conversation returned to the looming political threat to Vyrica. Everyone in the room was here with a purpose, their presence here to share insights and strategies to safeguard the nation from the shadows of impending danger.
Caisa brought the room back to the matter at hand. “Now, we cannot ignore the unrest any longer. War is more imminent than I am comfortable with, and not least because we have been in this state for weeks, with no sign of Nevari acting on his threats.”
Prince Lucien, the young, but seasoned, diplomat nodded in agreement.
“Our alliances are fragile. And whilst Eamore is refusing to take sides, our list of allies is short. Ideally, we need a united front to face this threat. But Eamore is a republic and cannot quite appreciate the loss of a monarch.” Lucien glanced apologetically at Jarryn.
“Patricide doesn’t justify a war, they say. ”
“Unsurprising, really. Eamore has no love for your barbaric, slaving ways. But they are also not sad to see my father pass, given his refusal to enter negotiations for Nevari’s fostering in their country.
You say they care not for our royal ways, Prince Lucien, but they have evidenced time and time again how they would benefit from a union of some kind with us. ”
“Is that so?” Caisa said drily, a mirthless smile playing on his lips. “We don’t have much to do with Eamore generally. I had no idea they have such distaste for our way of life. Lord Talius, is this something we can ameliorate?”
“Not easily, my King,” Flavian said, his eyes never leaving Jarryn’s face, “unless you propose to funnel my healthcare fund into housing and education for countless displaced souls.”
“What a shame that would be my friend. No, that, it seems, is a conundrum for another day.” The king seemed utterly dispassionate. “Okay, Eamore’s moral compass aside, what are the problems?”
Leander chanced a glance over to Jarryn, who looked as serene as ever, though Leo had an inkling that he was less than impressed by the king’s blasé attitude towards the less fortunate individuals under his rule.
But Jarryn had a certain look about him.
There was not roguish charm—he was too proper to be described as such.
Instead, he exuded authority, his lips pursed into a delicate expression.
He wondered what it would be like to taste those lips.
Leander had to remind himself that he was in a public setting, and crawling over the table to present his body to a man who hated him would be… frowned upon.
“I’ve heard rumours of covert movements on the borders. We must bolster our defences,” Flavian said promptly. “And our intelligence network needs strengthening. We can’t afford to be blindsided.”
Caisa nodded, deep in thought. “Are your sons up to the challenge?” he asked Flavian, as his gazed passed over the twins sitting to Leander’s right.
“They will not disappoint.”
Verin and Venser both nodded fervently. The demigod had no doubt that they would give everything for the integrity and safety of their home. With formidable skills, Leander could only agree with his father’s assessment.
“The soldier and the diplomat: our most accomplished Aesthesics. See that you don’t.”
Verin took his opportunity to speak. “We must address the underlying grievances fuelling dissent. A diplomatic approach could prevent all-out war.”
“Given that the cause of said ‘underlying grievances’ is sitting in this room, what do you suggest, Verin? Once again we must ask ourselves: do we return Prince Jarryn to Nevari? Rescind our protection?” Caisa said.
Every eye fell on Jarryn, who looked at the king without twitching. “Lord Verin raises a valid point. My brother is young and untrained in the ways of ruling, but he is a reasonable man. A summit may just ease tensions.”
Flavian leaned forward. “But we can’t afford to be na?ve. I still propose strengthening our military presence along vulnerable borders.”
“And announce to the world that we are ready for war?” Prince Lucien spoke up, having watched words being batted this way and that.
“We, with that plan, invite invasion. Our defences have long been intact. I see no reason to be hasty in an effort to strengthen borders that have been free of threat for hundreds of years.”
“That was before our strongest ally threatened them, my Prince.” Flavian’s tone was bordering on the condescending.
Their discourse deepened, with Lucien, Flavian, and Verin at the helm, adjudicated by the king and with suggestions (or more like rebuttals) from Jarryn every so often. A plan emerged: a delicate balance of diplomacy and military strength.
“Covert operations to dismantle any subversive elements could buy us time as well. Stealth and precision are our friends in this matter,” Verin finally added when there was a lull in the conversation.
“Nevari will be expecting that,” Jarryn said as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
“You’ve said that about nigh on every suggestion someone has provided,” Leander finally exploded—drawing himself out of his thoughts about fucking Jarryn if only to be rid of the lecherous images in his mind—after elliptical conversations abounded. “What, then, do you propose we do?”
“We?” Jarryn intoned, his voice bored but his piercing and intense gaze was so sharp it could cut through its surroundings. “You’re one of us now?”
“The realms of gods and mortals are intwined, whether you like it or not. Surely you are not so obtuse as to not see it.”
“Leander—”
“No, Verin, he needs to stop .” Leander turned back to his quarry, eyes flashing with frustration.
“Your high and mighty attitude blinds you to the bigger picture. I am not your enemy, and you know nothing of the irritants that plague my worldview.” A bitter laugh escaped Leander, ringing out through the otherwise silent hall.
“Tell me, how does it feel to know you will never rule over your realm, that your throne and crown comfortably fits another?”
“At least my kingdom doesn’t have to deal with your insufferable presence. You wouldn’t last a day without the protection of your father to coddle you. You’re nothing but a spoiled brat with divine blood.”
Leander couldn’t help but notice just how captivating the prince looked when he was impassioned by something. Would that his barbed words were not directed at him, he would have enjoyed spending hours watching Jarryn engage in an enchanting, stirring soliloquy about that which he cared for most.
“And you are clearly a spineless heir who wasn’t strong enough to fight for his throne, are hiding behind your wealth and your guards. Your incompetence is astounding.” Leander hissed.
“At least I’m not the product of some divine fling.
Your very existence is a mockery of true achievement.
Look at yourself. You dance to the whims of your immortal heritage as if you are worthy by mere virtue of the circumstances of your birth.
But you’re not, are you? They cast you out.
” Jarryn’s smile was almost feral, his regal mask had slipped away for the first time.
“The same could be said of you. That circlet atop your head is nothing more than a ridiculous symbol of your own inadequacy.”
“Enough!” Caisa’s voice thundered through the hall .
Jarryn raised a hand, having never been forced into silence by another, and continued. “Your interference jeopardises our autonomy. What’s to stop the Nine from gracing us with their oh-so-benevolent presence if they see us so willingly taking handouts from you?”
“Saeren does not harbour the same distrust of my mother and her kin as you do, Prince. The threats we face transcend your kingdom’s borders. If you cannot see beyond your painfully narrow perspective, the consequences will be dire.”
“Leander!” Flavian tried where Caisa had failed.
“No, let him speak,” Caisa commanded. “What, do you mean, Lord Leander, that these threats transcend that of King Nevari and Desanne?”
Leander, who had been staring down Jarryn, seated across from him, blinked and turned to the king. “I—” he had said too much. He had been careless in his anger.
“Speak, boy!”
“The motives of the gods are not my story to tell, Your Majesty. They are beyond my station even as a demigod and especially as a mortal. I have been away from their circle and out of their confidences for weeks now.”
“Save your poetic excuses, Leander.” Caisa’s eyes had narrowed, his regal composure momentarily disrupted.
“Actions speak louder than words and your presence, while tolerated in this city and in this country, is predicated on the expectation that you are loyal to your mother’s teachings, as we all here are. ”
“What... what are you implying, Your Majesty?” Leander asked.
Caisa leaned forward, eyes never leaving Leander’s. “ The people fear what they don’t understand. You are an unpredictable force and we all would feel much more at ease knowing that you are on our side.”
“Of course I am on your side!”
Silence reigned over the hall as Leander breathed heavily.
“Time will tell, I suppose,” the king finally uttered as he leaned back in his chair, his expression making it clear that he was no closer to trusting Leander.
Unable to hold himself back, Leander all but hissed, “I don’t seek your trust, only recognition for my allegiance to my mother.
” He took in the expressions of everyone around the table: they ranged from impressed to downright distrustful.
Leander leaned back, his expression growing more resolute.
“You have not the ability to fathom the sacrifices my kin have made to prevent nothing short of calamities to your realm. Your Majesty, you seek stability for your nation and this one?—”
“You’re godsdamned right I do! You think that you get to decide what constitutes a threat to my country? I declare a power play, though I just cannot work out why.”
Tone softening, Leander’s words had an earnest plea in them. “This isn’t about a power play. It’s about survival.”
“Spoken like someone who just lost control. Survival… the favourite excuse given by tyrants and cowards alike.” Flavian said, a cruel smile falling onto his lips.
Caisa glanced at Jarryn, including him in his next statement. “You have both been given plenty of opportunities to behave appropriately in my presence, but it is clear I overestimated your restraint. You are both dismissed. Get out of my sight.”