Chapter 33 #2
“Control is not the same as ownership,” Leander tested the other man, refusing to back down so easily. “You might own me, but you cannot so easily, so simply, control me.”
Jarryn’s head marginally tilted to the side, scrutinising his new slave, as if working out how far he could push before completely shattering the boy across from him.
“It turns out I can, though. Through the new bond we share. The Vyricans don’t leave anything to chance, it seems. Our bond can give me full access to your thoughts, your feelings, your actions… control over them, even.”
That was something Leander had only recently become aware of, something he had never considered as he had never owned a slave of his own.
His father’s household had slaves, of course, but they were his father’s not his.
It turned out that slavery in Saeren was a magically binding contract, linking the minds of slaves to their owners.
It also meant, Leander was horrified to discover, that he no longer had unfettered access to the minds of others: he was, for lack of a better term, arcanely castrated.
“You can control me through synthetic force all you want, Master . But everything would still belong to me, because you cannot truly own anything I do not give willingly. Rest assured, none of it will ever be given willingly. You have nothing I could ever want.”
It was simple, really: the root cause of Leander’s anger was this invisible cage he was confined to. The frustration at even being incapable of fleeing was maddening to the demigod. He fell silent as he bit his lip, considering how best to put his thought process into words.
“But you will give me what I want, Leander, and willingly.” Jarryn replied softly, gaze searing into the demigod before him. “You will give it to me, Leo, because your judgement is based on the fundamental error that I don’t have anything you want. I do: your freedom.”
Leander opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“Knowing when to concede and when to fight is part of politics, part of life.” Jarryn smiled, altogether too pleasantly.
“You like to pretend like you are better than me, Jarryn. But your sense of morality, rounded and empathetic towards the downtrodden as it is, is flawed. You are powerful, highly intelligent and, one way or another, you always get what you want. You might have even made a good king, had you not been driven out of Desanne, but the question still stands: are you a good man?” Leander did not look entertained, a certain bitterly cold expression on his face.
“Good and evil are stereotypes put in place by society in order to get people to behave in a manner they want people to.” Jarryn leaned back lazily in his chair, clearly done with the food.
Leander was still nibbling on his soup-covered sandwiches, finally registering just how hungry he was after eating the bare minimum for days.
Jarryn continued. “Again, we return to this concept of control. The Nine created morality as we know it to constrain everything they’re scared of,” he said, careless of how close he was drifting towards blaspheming in front of a previous member of the divine court.
Leander’s eyes widened and Jarryn simply sipped at his cup of tea.
“As a divine being, you yourself dealt with the dregs of society all the live long day. Many might say that that is inherently wrong, yes?”
Leander nodded reluctantly, working very hard to bury the thought of the lie he told to steal Jarryn’s throne away from him.
The Nine had worked hard over the past few months to keep that knowledge away from mortal ears, and the demigod wondered how Jarryn would react to knowing Leander was responsible for his exile.
They would probably be having a very different conversation right now.
But Jarryn had far too much integrity to debase himself by abusing the connection they now shared.
As long as Leander’s thoughts were quiet, he hoped they would be safe. “Yes, what’s your point?”
“People can commit acts that are deemed wrong by the masses for the right reasons. Maybe lying was a bad example. You’re too close to ‘lies’ to be unemotional about it.
Take killing. Sometimes it is wrong, a crime: murder.
But other times, say in the act of war, society lets it slide.
If it was truly, objectively, wrong, surely it would be wrong in all circumstances, not just when it doesn’t suit the eyes of the masses? ”
Leander nodded again, daring to meet Jarryn’s eyes.
“Morality is a subjective construct, therefore, is what I am getting at. These rules don’t exist outside of this emotional reaction towards an act. Not everyone can see that, sometimes, the end justifies the means.”
The demigod frowned: when had this become a lecture on morality? “What do you need so we can both get on with our day? Why are you telling me this? The God of Lies, known for my misdeeds even before my fall from grace. That’s me.”
“I hardly find that worthy of celebration,” the prince drawled as he rested an arm on the edge of his chair and lifted his leg to cross the other ankle-to-knee. “Even demigods are pitiful creatures.”
“There you go again, dangerously close to crossing a line into blasphemy, Jarryn.”
“Be quiet, Leander. I am speaking,” Jarryn’s eyes narrowed, silent for a moment as if waiting to see if Leander would speak again.
When he didn’t, Jarryn continued. “There are weaknesses and flaws within the natural human condition.
Imperfections that you have as well because you are only half divine.
You need to stop thinking about yourself as above the rest of us.
You have been forsaken, cast aside, by Lord Talius and your half-brothers.
Even your mother had nothing to say in your defence.
“Believe it or not, Leander, I am your ally. We just spoke of morality and societal expectations. I abhor the concept of slavery, and I do not approve of your rushed and politically-charged trial.”
“Yet you bought me. You engaged in something you find abhorrent.”
“Yes. I did. And I paid an inordinate amount for you. You cost more than this entire palace cost to make. That is how much I value you.”
“I—what?” Leander had prepared a perfect retort. He was suddenly very confused. Jarryn had spent the whole conversation effectively shitting on him, and now he said he valued him?
Leander wasn’t foolish enough to synonymise value and care , but he had a moment of prayer direct to Cysan to discover that might just be the case.
“Yes, Leo,” Jarryn murmured, his voice gentle, and Leander took comfort in it, he even started to see that same compassion in Jarryn’s expression.
“You are worth more to me than I think anyone has ever expressed to you. I would not see your life wasted further. Drink and gamble and whore all you want, you do not fool me like you have tricked everyone else.”
“And you want a wretched little disgrace like me? Does Desanne have such low standards that you seek companionship from the supposed scum of the earth? You don’t even allow slavery in your nation. ”
“Slavery? Our policy is…” There was a long pause while he was clearly loading up his phrasing, then a shift where he changed his mind and just said, “…no.”
Jarryn stood as he finished his tea, the soup and sandwiches untouched for Leo to finish. This was Leander’s signal that he was done with the conversation, clearly having said everything he felt needed to be said.
“Now. The rules.”
Yes, of course, they hadn’t covered them off. Leander put down the sandwich he was holding and leaned back in his chair, waiting with apprehension.
“There are two and they are simple. Keep quiet and listen when I tell you to do something. Do this and we just might get through this foul situation unscathed...”
Leander doubted that very much. He had last looked at his slave brand a few hours ago and he was still constantly reminded of it every time his shifted his position and his clothing brushed against it.
It was painful and raw, and not easy for him to forget.
He said none of this to Jarryn, though he knew that Jarryn was aware because he could feel the prince on the periphery of his mind.
He watched Jarryn’s face crease in dismay.
“Sorry. There will be no further…” He trailed off, shook his head and considered. “What I mean to say is this situation is not an indefinite, nor permanent, arrangement.”
The prince made for the door and then, with his hand poised on the door handle, he turned his head to look back at Leander. The demigod watched as Jarryn’s tongue ran over his top teeth before speaking. “We leave the city tomorrow,” he announced.
Leander blinked and opened his mouth to speak but Jarryn beat him to it as he continued to explain his grand plan.
“Once we are out of the country, the slavery laws will no longer apply and I will give you your freedom.”
“Why can’t you just do it now?” Leander asked sullenly.
“Because the king will not allow you to roam free in his kingdom any longer. If I free you, you will be auctioned off to the next highest bidder. We leave, and it can be done. Until then… remember the rules you will abide by. This nightmare will soon be over for the both of us. Govern yourself accordingly.”