Chapter 41
METILAI
The fanfare with which Lerek was greeted upon his return rivaled that of royal weddings. As he’d passed through the gates of the White Palace, a shower of white rose petals rained down on him, catching on his borrowed cloak and on his lap as he gazed up to the stairs where his father stood.
He frowned when he noticed it was not his mother, Empress Adanna, at his side, but rather his second wife, Serephina.
Her son, Lerek’s half brother, was shifting from foot to foot at her side, trying to grab her hand.
Lerek opened his mouth when he caught sight of the bundle in her arms. Serephina watched his progression with a neutral expression.
Lerek dismounted when he reached the courtyard, the crowd roaring at his back. He pulled the edges of the wool cloak around his chest as a strong breeze shook him.
“I wouldn’t believe it until I saw you for myself,” his father, Emperor Solon, said, his voice shaking. He reached out with trembling hands to grip Lerek by his shoulders. A second later, his father pulled him roughly into an embrace that threatened to choke Lerek.
Thumping his father on the back before pulling away, Lerek’s smile did not reach his eyes. His father’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears. Lerek couldn’t recall ever seeing his father this emotional.
“It is you,” he whispered, and pulled him in for another quick embrace.
Lerek closed his eyes and allowed it, but stepped away before his father was ready to release him.
He glanced at Serephina, then the baby snuggled close to her chest. When he caught her eye again, Serephina tightened her grip on the bundle, giving him her signature nasty glare.
He inclined his head as he put his hand over his heart.
“It is, father,” he said curtly as he moved past the emperor toward the castle doors. The Imperial Guard posted near the doors stepped aside as he strode forward.
His father hurried to catch up but Lerek didn’t slow his steps. He continued beyond the grand entry to the back, where the large circular staircase would take him to the gallery leading to the royal residences.
He was tired and hungry and cold. The pomp and other useless celebrations marking his return would have to wait.
“We need to talk, son,” his father called out at his back, the heels of his boots clacking along the marble. Lerek spared him a look over his shoulder and frowned when he saw his uncle, General Peleon, at his father’s side.
“We will, Emperor,” Lerek responded, his tone short. He didn’t miss how his father had called him ‘son’ in front of the retinue following in their wake. Lerek could count on one hand the amount of times his father had addressed him as such.
“But I am tired after a long journey and wish to rest first,” he added, his only concession a brief smile before turning down the corridor leading to his rooms.
Lerek’s steps faltered as he neared the double doors, recalling the last time he’d strode through them. He’d been excited to see his twin brother, Isher, after months apart.
Excited to enact the plans he’d made to marry Terena and leave Isher behind to stand as his double. How naive and selfish to think of himself over his own brother.
And now Isher was gone.
“Prince Lerek! A moment, please.”
Lerek glanced over his shoulder at his father’s steward, Salorus, huffing his way toward him, his face red and sweaty. “What is it?”
“Your Highness,” he panted, closing his eyes a moment as he fought for air. “My apologies, but your rooms are… at the other end of the hall. Please, follow me.”
Lerek frowned as he turned to the steward. The man had a wan smile on his face as he motioned for Lerek to follow.
Glancing at Xoran, he arched an eyebrow. The Captain of the Imperial Guard came stalking to his side, his face and garments as dirty as Lerek’s.
The man had found him in the midst of all the chaos in Colinas.
As Lerek looked over at Terena fighting like a demon—well, like her father, Ares—the Heylisian soldiers with Xoran had surrounded him, ensuring his safe escape from the fighting.
Before Lerek could protest, or at the very least speak with Terena one last time, Xoran had him astride a horse and they were tearing away from the battlefield and the city.
“I know where my rooms, are, Salorus. And they are this—”
“I apologize for the confusion, Your Highness, but your father… that is to say, when you were—oh bother.” The man groaned and wiped his forehead. “Your brother, Prince Adonis, is the crown prince. After—after your death…”
Lerek blanched. His eyes darted to Xoran who gave him a quick nod. Growling, Lerek stalked toward the steward, waving his hand. “Fine. Where are my new quarters?”
“This way, Your Highness,” the man mumbled as he quickened his steps, his robes fluttering at his feet. Salorus turned right and walked toward a set of double doors near the end. Lerek snorted and shook his head.
Of course.
Not only had Adonis taken over his title and his rooms, but now Lerek had to make do with his much smaller accommodations.
Dismissing the steward with a snap of his fingers, Lerek stalked inside.
“Xoran!”
“Aye, Prince,” Xoran muttered. He looked dead on his feet, but stood straight and tall as he focused on a spot over Lerek’s shoulder.
“I want a word with you,” Lerek said as he strode through the antechamber into the dining area. The clack of Xoran’s boot heels told Lerek the soldier followed; but, of course he would.
Lerek quickly divested himself of his cloak and tunic, tossing both on the ground as he made his way to the bathing chamber. There were servants galore to prepare his bath, but Lerek wanted this time alone with Xoran before his father and the others thought it acceptable to intrude.
“You’re working with Terena, are you not?”
Xoran, to his credit, did not betray his thoughts. His face remained carefully blank as he shifted his narrowed brown eyes to Lerek.
“Highness?”
“Don’t,” Lerek said, holding up a hand. He turned away, hands on his hips. When he looked over at Xoran, the man had his eyes trained once again at a spot beyond Lerek.
“I know you’re working with her. Do not lie to me. And so the next question becomes: why am I not confronting you in front of my father?”
Lerek was impressed with Xoran’s stoicism. Of course, the man would have learned to keep his thoughts and feelings in check around a mercurial egomaniac like Emperor Solon.
“Fine,” Lerek muttered, waving a hand. “This is not a trap. I need your help. I am not trying to trick you in any way. If I wanted you executed as a traitor, I could’ve spoken with my father and you’d already be in the dungeons.
Listen for a moment, and consider what I am about to propose, and I swear I will let you leave with your secret intact. Agreed?”
Xoran stared at him with eyes barely dilated, unnerving in their cool regard.
Lerek sighed. “I’ll take that as assent. Look, my father is up to something. He’s been up to something before I… well, before. I know you know this, but I suspect it has something to do with his obsessive hatred of the gods.”
Lerek stabbed a hand through his hair, grunting and wincing as his fingers stuck on some matted locks.
“This is where you come in. I need two things from you. First, send a message to Ren, asking her—no, demanding her—to come to Metilai. I wish to receive her in private. While you’re awaiting her response, stay as close as possible to my father without rousing suspicion.
I want to know everything he’s doing. Who he speaks with—especially if he’s meeting with anyone from the cleric’s guild.
Any conversation he has with High Cleric Christos, I want to know about it. ”
Lerek stared at Xoran, waiting for the man to say something. When he didn’t, Lerek turned and swiped the stack of towels sitting on a stool near the tub.
“Fuck! Why can’t anyone just fucking listen to me? Am I that big of a joke? Look at stupid fucking Prince Lerek, everyone! No brains, no balls, and—and…” Lerek kicked at the towels now littering the marble floor with such viciousness, one flew up and hit Xoran in the legs.
“And no fucking brother! Because I came up with the most ridiculous plan in the history of planning and got my twin killed!”
Lerek dropped onto the edge of the tub, cradling his head in his shaking hands. His heart thrashed in his chest, and for a horrible moment, Lerek’s eyes and nose stung from holding back tears.
Quiet settled around him and he closed his eyes, swallowing past the lump in his throat.
The shuffling sound of hesitant steps made him jerk his head up. He frowned as Xoran opened and closed his mouth several times.
“Go ahead,” Lerek said with a sigh. Dropping his head back, he closed his eyes. His lips wobbled when he tried to smile. “Say whatever you wish to say. Whatever it is will not be worse than what I’ve already said.”
A shadow caught his eye when he brought his head back upright and he opened his eyes to see Xoran’s dark eyes watching him with something resembling cautious optimism.
Lerek knew that look. He’d seen it many times in the mirror right before his father tore him down for whatever grand idea he’d come up with that his father had laughed at.
“What, Xoran?”
Xoran’s scarred hand lifted to rest over the pommel of his sword. He inclined his head.
“I will do as you ask.”
Someone was living in Orry’s old room.
“I told you!” Croak hissed, smacking Orry in the back of the head. As his friend grumbled and hit back, Croak looked up at the feeble light from the second-story window.
“Fine. You were right.”
“No, no.” Croak tsked and wagged his finger at Orry. “Say it the way I told you.”
Orry dropped his head back and groaned. Croak whisper shouted for him to be quiet.