Temperance

  “I know this makes little sense to you.”

  How about none, he thought.

  “But it will soon enough. The woman will be safe for now with Kai. For the most part. And I don’t want to hear anything more of it. Do you understand?”

  He didn’t, but he knew what was really being said. Don’t ask any more questions, and do not follow them.

  “What of Si’Bastian?” he heard himself ask without realizing he cared.

  Li’Am walked over and stopped in front of him. “I’m not sure yet. But he will be returned to his chambers.”

  His cell, Ry’Ker thought, knowing that the sensualeer was confined to the East tower of L’Mere.

  “Are you concerned for him?”

  He wasn’t overly—except for the fact that Si’Bastian hadn’t moved since being shackled. He didn’t say that though. He kept his expression inscrutable and responded, “No. I trust your judgment, as always.”

  Li’Am took two steps down until they were standing directly opposite one another. His dark eyes bored into his own as he waited several minutes, trying to provoke more of a response from his head guard. When it was clear Ry’Ker wouldn’t be saying anything else, Li’Am spoke.

  “I’m pleased you feel that way, because I want you in charge of his watch.”

  Ry’Ker felt the order like a weight upon his shoulders. His eyes drifted to the ground, and then back to that man’s father.

  “I thought that would be over now that we’re back. Clearly, you’ve devised a way to immobilize him.”

  “Yes. But it’s not fair to keep him unconscious forever, is it?”

  He wasn’t sure what Li’Am wanted to hear, so he asked a much more troubling question of his own. “Do you plan to release him?”

  “No. I plan to lessen the amount of mossfire bark used to line the cuffs. He will be awake but nonfunctioning.”

  Ry’Ker tried to work through the information being given to him, but he felt as though it were in pieces, not the full story. So, still, he was confused.

  “Nonfunctioning as in…?”

  “He won’t be able to access his abilities. He will be just like you and me.”

  He looked down at Si’Bastian, and this time, instead of feeling a pang of sympathy, he felt the full force of it well up inside of him. Yes, the sensualeer would be just like they were, but in order to do that, his own father was stripping him of everything that made him who he was.

  “And what will I be doing?” he managed to ask.

  Li’Am walked back up to the dais and over to the large West window. “You will keep an eye on him, and report back to me.”

  “So I’m to be his keeper once more?”

  Li’Am whirled around and pinned him with serious eyes. “No, you are to be my eyes. I want to know what my son is thinking. His guard, Finn never tells me anything, and he’s been with the boy since birth. I need to know what he’s capable of. Especially now that Seraphine has gotten to him.”

  He knew better than to question his leader, but he did want to know. “What makes you think he will tell me anything?”

  Li’Am’s mouth curled to the side, and his answer made Ry’Ker think back to something Kai had said to him only days before. “Be careful who you choose to follow.”

  “He will have no other contact. I wish to keep it private, so Finn is to be discharged. It will either be you or silence. And it’s a known fact that sensualeers thrive on contact. Be it intellectual or physical.”

  Well, he thought when Li’Am finally dismissed him, it was appropriate that the head guard was given a prisoner. He’d just never suspected that it would be the Commander’s son.

  A person who would hate him the second he awoke.

  Naeve hurried after Kai as he walked across the mud-covered ground to stop by a large, white horse. She came to an abrupt halt when her favorite pair of boots sank down and disappeared to the ankle.

  “Oh for God’s sake,” she muttered, pulling her foot free, thankful for the first time for the boot’s practicality and not its aesthetic appeal.

  “Is there a problem?” Kai asked, turning to see why she’d stopped.

  She was about to launch into all the reasons why her Prada boots being caked with mud was a problem, but when she saw the way he was looking at her, she thought it best to keep her mouth shut.

  “No. No problem. I just wasn’t expecting the mud bath.”

  He ran his eyes down her body until they landed on her feet, and then she could have sworn she saw him…smile.

  “It’s hardly a bath when it’s just your boots. But if you believe in the finer qualities of horse’s shit and mud, then feel free to strip down and roll in it. I won’t stop you, and I assure you neither will they.”

  When he pointed behind her, she turned to see a group of men standing there. Each of them dressed just as Kai was—all black, head to toe, and hoods pulled up to cover them.

  Once she’d spun back to face the man who was taunting her, Naeve trudged through the slop, wincing at the squish under each step she took. When she reached him, she stuck her hands on her hips and angled her face up to him.

  “Who are they?” she whispered, trying to keep her question between the two of them.

  “They’re my men. They will be accompanying us back to Claremont.”

  His men? What did that mean? Is he…“Are you like, a king or something?”

  He laughed so loudly that it hurt her ears, but there was no joy to it. “Would it make a difference if I were?”

  She actually found the likelihood of it ridiculous. But why else would he have a small army?

  “No. It wouldn’t make a difference one way or another.”

  “No? I’d be rich,” he said, lowering his face down to hers.

  “Don’t you dare say it…”

  He seemed to find that greatly amusing because he grinned, an honest-to-god-grin that bared his teeth and split his lips wide. “Say what? Did Bastian teach you how to read my mind, then?”

  At the mention of the man she’d first met, Naeve remembered the way he and Fiona had last been when she’d seen them. She frowned and, before she thought better of it, took a firm hold of Kai’s arm. She couldn’t believe she’d been ready to leave without knowing when she would see them again.

  What is the matter with me?

  “Can we see them? Bastian and my sisters? I need to know they’re okay.”

  Kai looked down to where she was touching him and then returned her gaze. “We don’t have time.”

  “But—”

  “No,” he cut her off. “We don’t have time. Remember the first night I found you in the forest and I told you about the kleptors?”

  Naeve did remember. It wasn’t something she’d ever forget. The hellacious sound had been like some sort of alien.

  “They only come out at night, and they’ll be looking for you.”

  Her heart almost stopped at his prediction. “Why would they be looking for me?”

  “Because they are the Empress’s eyes and she is watching you and your sisters. I’d rather not get caught in the middle again.”

  Naeve tried to understand what he was telling her, but none of it was making any sense.

  “The Empress Seraphine is just like Bastian,” he explained. “But far more experienced when it comes to manipulation and spells. She is the one who impeded our progress the first time. She is also the one who—”

  “Hurt you,” Naeve whispered.

  “No. She didn’t hurt me.”

  She thought back to the moment after the river and recalled the way Kai had been forced to his knees—and so had she. “I remember,” she murmured. “It was the same woman from the tarot shop. It was like I could hear and see her but she wasn’t really there, and then…I don’t remember anything.”

  “Yes,” Kai agreed, his eyes softening as a frown formed between his brows. “That’s one of the very reasons they are as feared as they are.”

  “But Bastian isn’t like her.?
??

  Kai’s mouth pulled taut, and the look in his eyes took on a hard edge. “No, he isn’t. Not yet, anyway.”

  Naeve was curious at the detachment in his voice, but before she could pursue it further, he spoke again.

  “My hunters and I know this forest better than anyone, and you need to listen to every word I say from here until you walk through the doors at Claremont. Do you understand?”

  She nodded silently.

  “You will see your sisters again. All of them. Of that I am sure.”

  She blinked up at him and his promise, wondering how he could be so certain. “And Bastian?”

  Kai looked away and then turned towards the horse he was standing next to. “Bastian, I don’t know about.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that, but when he grabbed the reins and held them out to her, she knew the time for talking was over.

  * * *

  Ry’Ker stood in the doorway to the East tower and couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  After he’d left the Hall, he’d gone back to his chambers to remove his gear and scrub down with some cold-as-ice water. Then he’d changed into something clean, and minutes later, he’d been in the kitchens, snagging up a plate of food.

  He’d never been to the East tower before. As a child, he’d been told that he wasn’t allowed, and as an adult, he’d been made aware why. These were Si’Bastian’s chambers.

  The guard posted outside, Finn, was an older man who’d been the sensualeer’s watchman for years, and as Ry’Ker approached, he saw him unlock the door and give a quick nod of his head.

  “Is he awake?” Ry’Ker asked before receiving a silent affirmation by way of a second nod.

  The man was obviously used to silent exchanges, having spent most of his time in his own company outside this very door, so Ry’Ker didn’t bother with any other kind of conversation. He balanced the tray of food on his hand and reached for the handle. Then he steeled himself against what he knew was about to be an ugly confrontation and pushed the door open.

  The first thing he noticed was how dark it was in the rounded space. There were no windows, just grey stones surrounding the lone occupant, who was on the ground with his back to the far wall.

  Si’Bastian’s feet were grimy and bare, and he was still wearing the pants and shirt from earlier, though the white color of them was now a dirt-smeared mess. His hair was matted all over his head, and his arms were shackled to a chain on the wall. Instantly, Ry’Ker felt guilt over his own quick wash before coming up there.

  As he stepped into the room, the man on the floor raised his head, and flat, black eyes met his.

  “How predictable that my father sent you.”

  The resentment in Bastian’s voice was as clear as the words he was saying, and Ry’Ker took a moment to decide how he should approach the volatile man watching him.

  The first thing he wanted was privacy. Not for his sake, but maybe to restore some of the other man’s dignity and gain a little of his trust. So he shut the door, locking himself in with the sensualeer, figuring that he was safe enough since Si’Bastian was incapacitated.

  Looking over at him, Ry’Ker took another step into the shadowed space. “Who would you have preferred he sent?”

  Si’Bastian let his head drop down and gave a scornful laugh. “Anyone but you, Guard. Finn out there would have been a preferable choice over you.”

  He could feel the waves of animosity pouring off Si’Bastian, and all he could come up with was, “Why Finn? Do you know him well?”

  This time when the sensualeer raised his head, he looked at Ry’Ker from beneath lowered lids, and felt the full force of what exactly Si’Bastian was.

  The potent stare and the curl to his lips, coupled with the way he arrogantly sized him up, made Ry’Ker thankful that Si’Bastian was chained to a wall and unable to hear his moment of self-doubt.

  “I know him a hell of a lot more than I know you.”

  He could tell that Si’Bastian was trying to provoke him, to get a rise out of him. So, instead of responding, he made his way over to the only other object in the room—a small, wooden table—and placed the tray down.

  “How and what do you know of Finn?”

  There. That was the key. Ask questions, keep him talking.

  “Let me see. When I was born, my father moved out of the East wing. Did you know that? Finn did—that’s how I know. Father used to share this part of the castle with my mother, but that doesn’t matter now, does it? He left the same day he locked me inside this impressive tower and then forbade anyone to come to this section of L’Mere.” He paused and then gritted his teeth as he tugged on his iron chain. “But at least then I was free to move about.”

  Ry’Ker remained where he was, silent and curious to see if Si’Bastian would say more—which he did.

  “Finn’s been at my door ever since. Boring for him, but not so much for me. You see, he was kind of like a training manual. He’s horrible when it comes to blocking his mind, so I would go inside and learn everything there is to know when it comes to dissecting, or coercing, one. So yes, I know Finn very well—unlike you, Guard.”

  “My name’s Ry’Ker. You can use it, you know.”

  “Why would I use it? Your name means nothing to me.”

  Li’Am was delusional if he thought that Si’Bastian would ever tell him anything other than to go away. Maybe he should volunteer Finn, since he seemed to at least use his name.

  “I brought you food.”

  Si’Bastian’s eyes moved to the table and then back to his. “I don’t want it.”

  “Are you going to starve yourself?”

  The man slumped back against the wall and raised his knees. “Maybe. If this is the alternative, would that be so bad?”

  Ry’Ker picked up the tray and walked forward to where Si’Bastian sat. He kept enough distance, though, that even if he charged him, he wouldn’t be able to reach. Crouching down, he placed the food on the ground, trying to decide if what he was about to do was smart—or ill advised.

  “Want to know what I think?”

  Si’Bastian didn’t answer. He just stared at him, those black eyes uncaring of anything he had to say—but that didn’t stop him.

  “I think Li’Am is terrified.”

  Even uttering those words had felt foreign to him. It felt traitorous to even have thought it. But if he was being honest, the fact that Li’Am had done this to his own son spoke volumes.

  “You scare him because he doesn’t understand you.”

  Si’Bastian moved then, lunging forward on his knees and straining at the chains like a rabid dog, an ugly expression twisting his features.

  “I scare him?” he raged, his voice thundering off the surrounding walls until it disappeared into a low, cruel whisper. “He’s the one drugging me, locking me in a cell. He should be scared, because if I ever get free, he’s going to wish he’d killed me this morning.”

  Ry’Ker could tell he meant every word as he looked into Si’Bastian’s enraged eyes. But for some reason, he couldn’t find it in himself to persuade him to feel otherwise.

  * * *

  Bastian had never felt more powerless than he did in that moment, stripped of his abilities and chained to the wall like an animal. His father had gone too far.

  Nothing he’d done had warranted this kind of response, and the rage that had been bubbling just under the surface had finally reached its boiling point when he’d sent his head guard to ‘deal’ with him.

  “Just go,” he spat out, disgusted by the sight of his father’s faithful lackey.

  “That’s going to be the one thing I cannot do.”

  Done with the conversation, Bastian didn’t respond. But when Ry’Ker shifted, he realized he was close enough that, if he wanted to, he had a clear shot at hitting him.

  “You may be chained to the wall, but I too am bound to this room courtesy of your father. So how about you start talking to me so we can both get out of here?”

/>   Bastian couldn’t help the laughter that erupted from a dark corner of himself and knew that he sounded manic. “You’re delusional,” he sputtered, feeling a thrill at the glower that shadowed Ry’Ker’s face. “Go back to your real ally, Guard. There won’t be an alliance here. What would I get from it?” He let his parched lips twist into a sneer and then moved forward until they were practically nose to nose. “Nothing. That’s what I get. So why would I help you?” Collapsing back against the jagged stones, he welcomed the sting of pain against his back. “Get out. There’s nothing here for you.”

  Ry’Ker straightened and stood but didn’t move away. “I have every reason to believe that your kind—”

  “My kind?”

  “—are manipulative game players. People to be feared,” Ry’Ker continued as if he hadn’t interrupted him. “But for some reason, I don’t think you’re like that. Are you, Si’Bastian? All you wanted was his approval.”

  He stayed stubbornly quiet, wishing he could fade the way he’d recently taught himself to. He would have given anything right then to be able to disappear from the guard’s knowing stare.

  “I grew up here and flourished under your father’s guidance. I can see why you resent me—hate me, even. But I’m not the one who did this to you.”

  Bastian let those words run through his mind and thought back to this morning in the Great Hall. No, he wasn’t the one to do this, but— “You did nothing to stop it.”

  Ry’Ker’s jaw twitched, and Bastian knew he’d struck a nerve.

  “You wanted to though, didn’t you? Maybe you’re more like your brother than I first thought.” He knew his taunt would get under the proud guard’s skin, and he was right.

  His shoulders stiffened and his eyes narrowed. “I’m nothing like Mala’Kai.”

  “That would be a shame if it were true. You say that I seek my father’s approval, and all you’ve ever wanted is your brother’s. Even though you detest what he’s done. He’s on nobody’s side but his own. Maybe you are starting to feel the same.”

  Ry’Ker shook his head and strode over to the door, but before he opened it, he turned back and stated firmly, “I’m head of the Imperial Guard. I clearly have a side and a purpose. Something Mala’Kai could never commit to.”