Chapter 49
The deposed council members did not have the sense to wait until the Calabrians left to retaliate for losing their power. Upon leaving Dijana's room, Taeron was attacked by a handful of men heading in his direction with swords and daggers drawn, men that he recognized as palace guards. They had been surprised to see him, so Taeron knew they had not been sent by Roehan to remove him from contention for Dijana's hand. Taeron had been distracted after leaving Dijana's bed, and weakened after giving her blood twice, but Amyr pushed him aside and did his duty, backing them down the corridor. He left the walls near the queen's chambers splattered with blood and feathers.
The unguarded doors swung open to reveal the half-dressed prince consort, his staff in his hands gripped under his arm with the deadly blade on the end ready to thrust. Seeing the carnage on the floor and sensing no more threat, he stepped aside to allow Neria to pass. She was wearing a hastily donned robe, and looked as though what few moments of sleep she had gotten during the night had been disturbed.
Her bleary blue gaze took in the gore, then she looked at Taeron. "I see that you Calabrians have been busy this morning. Can you not confine your need for bloodletting to the courtyard?"
"This was as far as I could get them," Amyr said as he wiped his sword on one of the corpses.
"Where, exactly, were you coming from?" asked Roehan skeptically, his emerald gaze traveling down the hall to rest on his daughter's chamber before returning with accusation to rest on Taeron.
Taeron did not want to lie, and he opened his mouth to tell Dijana's father that he had been with her, but Neria huffed. "Roehan, are you that obtuse? He was trying to sneak past our door yet again, but this time he was foiled from his attempt to see our daughter by these fools." She nudged one of the dead men on the floor with the toe of her slipper. "Do you recognize them? Are these not men of your guard?"
Roehan narrowed his eyes on Taeron for a moment, before looking at the dead men on the floor. "They were," he muttered as he squatted to turn one of the men over. "Except this one. I believe he is Jaleila's nephew."
"She was a dear friend of Balak's mother, so I am not surprised" remarked the queen to herself, and then she looked at Roehan. "Do see to it that we are no longer bothered with Jaleila. You may make the usual offers to her men for I hate to waste good warriors, but I want her head."
Her mate put his hand to his heart and bowed to her as she moved past him to return to her chamber, but when the door had closed, Roehan raised his head to spear Taeron with a fierce look. "I am not a fool. Your behavior with my daughter displease me greatly, but if you had not been with her, these bastards may have harmed Dijana."
"If I had not been with her, Princess Chaela would have, and she would have kept them from reaching her," Taeron told him, confident in Chaela's ability to protect Dijana.
Roehan frowned. "You imperials are very certain of yourselves and each other."
Since the statement was true, Taeron did not think it merited a response.
"Do you require our assistance in handling Jaleila?" inquired Amyr to fill the void.
"I will take care of her. My men are well-trained too, although they were remiss in their duties this morning." He looked down at the corpse at his feet. "I should have been less trusting of the palace guard that was too eager to give Neria their allegiance. The lot of them will have to be replaced by men loyal to me and not to the coin our enemies slip into their pockets." Roehan shook his head. "I should have foreseen some retaliation after the celebration last night. None of those council members would approve of my elevation to prince consort, so I am not surprised one of them sought to harm my daughter."
"Perhaps Queen Neria should have removed the remaining council members permanently," suggested Taeron, "instead of allowing them the freedom to subvert your guards and return to their estates to gather an army." Thinking of all that they had allowed to happen to Dijana, Taeron wanted to coat his own blade with their blood.
Roehan's lips flattened grimly. "That was my solution, but Neria reminded me that she rules with the council of elders, and if she kills her opponents on the council, then she is no better than Balak."
Taeron was glad that he did not have the weight of ruling on his shoulders. While on Varoonya, he had governed with a heavy hand, but it had been necessary during the chaos left in the aftermath of the war. He was more comfortable with dispensing law with his sword, so he was glad that he would not have to return to the bureaucratic nightmare of reordering Varoonya. Trey had reminded him that one day he would rule Dagmaeus where most of his interactions with his people would not be at the point of his sword. Watching the emperor day after day in the short time he spent with him before his departure, observing his interactions with the imperials as well as ambassadors from worlds tied to the Calabrian empire made Taeron's gut wrench as if he had eaten cooked flesh.
"After I knock a few heads together, I think the royal guard can safeguard the palace, but I would appreciate if you could send some men to patrol the countryside," Roehan told Taeron although he sensed Dijana's father was galled to have to ask him for assistance.
"Prince Amyr will arrange for it," Taeron told the queen's consort. After his night with Dijana, he needed rest.
Amyr bowed his head to Roehan. "I will accompany the men myself." The other man gave him an assessing look that conveyed his lack of confidence before he turned abruptly and walked away.
When he had gone, Amyr blew out his breath. "Do you know how hard it is to be you, Taeron?"
Taeron blew out his own breath. "As hard as it is to be you?"
Amyr laughed and clapped him on the back. "I was never very good at being my father's son. His lessons in diplomacy put me to sleep."
"My sword is the only diplomat I trust," mumbled Taeron as he grasped the hilt in his hand. Instead of the familiar stones of his father's house, he felt the gems of the sword the emperor had given him. This was his future and he would have to adjust to it after spending all his life preparing to guard the man who had become his own personal guard. If the emperor had confidence in him, then Taeron needed to have confidence in himself.
"I need rest," he finally said. "Report to me later."
Taeron started to walk away, but Amyr said, "Thank you."
He looked over his shoulder at him, his brows raised in question.
"For trusting me when Roehan did not."
"You will officially be recognized as my imperial guard, Amyr, once we have returned to Calabria, but I see as such now." With that he continued on his way to his chamber and was joined before he reached it by two of Darlac's men who remained at the door to stand guard after he had gone inside.
Although he had much to think about, Taeron laid down on his bed without removing his clothing because he was too exhausted to concentrate. He did not trouble his thoughts with assassins or rebellions, but relaxed with the memory of how he had spent the night in his mate's arms. If Amyr had not all but pulled him away from his female and forced him to drink his medicine shortly after second sunrise, he would still be there.
He smiled as he remembered Dijana's reaction to Amyr's intrusion into their most private moments. After Taeron had drank the mug of medicine, Dijana had seized it from his hand and launched it adroitly at Amyr's head. Amyr had deserved it after making a comment on her riding prowess. But his arrival had signaled an end to their time together, and as he dressed, she had fallen asleep among the tangled bedding. The medicine had done its job, and yet he still wanted to return to her side, but Amyr pulled him out the door where his imperial guard was met with swords. Not so many months ago Taeron would have had to save Amyr, but after their training and his new confidence, Amyr had used his sword effectively despite the surprise attack.
Late in the afternoon he awoke to find that Amyr had not yet returned from patrol, so Taeron went in search of his brothers. He was about to step into the garden when he heard Stryfe's voice in the retelling of a story that Taeron knew well. Before entering the garden, he listened for several moments to his brother's narrative, realizing why the emperor enjoyed his scribe's reports. While Stryfe's voice was pleasant enough, he added dramatic flair that made the retelling entertaining. No matter how many times he heard the story of Prince Trey and imperial guard Arora, of how their love had spanned galaxies before the gods finally brought them together, Taeron did not tire of it. If aught would happen to Lady Arora, Taeron knew the emperor would not outlive her long. Their love and their lives were tied forever. Taeron understood their love now more than he ever had because he was in love with Dijana and could imagine his life without her.
Stepping into the garden, he found both Jeshed and Stryfe surrounded by beautiful young women who were listening in rapt attention to the story.
"Ah, my brother has arrived!" Stryfe left the story unfinished and the females, as well as Jeshed, moaned in disappointment. "Later, my lovelies!" He gave one of the females a pat on the backside and they hurried away with giggles, but when Jeshed started to follow them, Taeron seized his arm and hauled him back.
Jeshed frowned at him. "The pretty female with pale hair promised to show me something I would find interesting."
Stryfe chuckled. "I am sure that she did."
Taeron looked at Jeshed sternly. "Females are of a mercurial nature, Jeshed. I have learned that they are pleased, yet displeased by a male's knowledge in mating."
"I suppose Dijana questioned you about your tutors," remarked Stryfe with a knowing smile.
"Because Queen Neria took it upon herself to pry into every facet of my existence while she was at the imperial court. She told Dijana that she should be grateful to the many females that contributed to my education," Taeron told him. "I distracted her, yet I fear the subject will surface again." He looked at Jeshed. "If you feel that you have found your mate, then why would you wish to dally with another female?"
Color rose to Jeshed's cheeks. "I did not know..." He blinked several times in confusion. "Is that why she put her hand on my …?"
Stryfe burst into laughter. "Were you not listening to Queen Neria's instruction? Shall we visit her and ask her to be more detailed?"
Taeron shook his head when it looked as though Jeshed would agree. "Stay away from females, especially that one, and when my … our mother takes you aside to describe mating, pretend that you have not heard it already. Choose to listen to her or not, but do not let her know if you are not because that will only invite her to give you further instruction." He did not envy Jeshed that discussion, not after having had it more than once.
"Are you ready to compose a ballad?" asked Stryfe with amusement.
Until a few moments ago, he had not been, but now he smiled at his brother. "I am more than ready."
"Indeed? Do you have yet another skill, my gods' blessed brother?"
Taeron had never raised his voice in song except for the occasional ditties that he had joined in with the imperial guards when on campaign on Teralon or Varoonya. He was sure he could carry a tune, but he knew too few, so he suggested one of the songs he did know.
Stryfe frowned at him. "You do realize that you are to be proving your love, don't you? I don't think a song about the myriad ways you can slay your opponents will achieve that goal."
"I know the melody," Taeron insisted with a frown. "I meant to change the words."
His brother was still skeptical. "And if you forget the new words and resort to singing of decapitations?"
"I would be amused," remarked Jeshed.
Taeron laughed and put his arm around Jeshed's shoulders. "See! If you will not help me, Jeshed and I will compose the ballad."
His other brother guffawed. "I was going to teach you something simple from Earth, but I cannot pass up the opportunity to see you fall on your face just once." He rose and indicated the stone bench he had vacated. "You and Jeshed can spend the rest of the day proving how little the two of you know and I will get some rest or find that fetching brunette that amused me last night."
Taeron watched Stryfe walk away with a frown, and then he looked at Jeshed who looked eager to help. "I have some ideas," he told him.
He wasn't just a warrior! He had grown up around Trey and Arora's feet and watched Shamara fall in love with Prince Dagan. He had two sets of parents that were deeply in love, so he could certainly compose a song for the woman he loved. But most of the afternoon had gone by with only a few lines set to the tune, and Taeron was afraid he was going to have to resort to singing about hacking off limbs.
Darlac returned from patrol as Taeron was practicing what little they had accomplished, and he listened patiently before telling him that Amyr had not yet returned with the men, that they had come across rebels to the south. After his report, he suggested asking the other imperial warriors for assistance in his task. Taeron would have dismissed the idea because he did not want to appear less than confident before them, but he remembered Darlac once telling him that he should not hesitate to accept help from his subordinates. So Taeron and Jeshed went with Darlac to the barracks that had been assigned to the Calabrian imperial warriors that remained in Nidum.
The men were openly surprised by his visit because Taeron had delegated his command responsibilities to Amyr since his injury. Although Taeron had spent many days and nights with the men, fighting, eating and sleeping during the Varoonyan campaign, they seemed uneasy and he noticed their frequent glances at the sword he carried in the open at his side that marked him the lord prince commander. He did not like the distance that had come between them, so he ignored it and when he explained what he needed of them, they stared at him in silence for a moment with wide eyes as if he had grown another head, then one of the men in the back snorted with laughter and a few others tried to cover their own with coughs. Taeron frowned and they immediately fell silent.
That was not what he wanted from them, so he explained that while his mate's father had insisted on the courtship ritual, Taeron wanted to court his female, to make known his love for her. He expected them to laugh outright at his admission, but they shifted uncomfortably, glancing at each other as if they did not know how to react to hearing their warlord admit to having a romantic soul. A few uncomfortable moments of silence followed, then Taeron went ahead to tell them exactly what he had already accomplished with his brother. One of the men suggested changing some words, another wanted a different melody and soon all of the men were making suggestions.
The warriors who had gone out with Amyr returned early in the evening, dirty and sweaty, exhausted, yet exhilarated after putting down an insurrection south of the city. They could not hide their shocked surprise to find a barracks full of men singing a song no warrior would sing marching to battle, but when they learned the reason, they eagerly joined in. By the time he left the men, Taeron was confident that the song he would sing for Dijana would not embarrass him. If his voice did not carry well, he could do nothing about that.
Amyr had gone ahead to report to the queen that Ayrael had gathered a small force of Balak's men that had survived the fighting and had been in hiding. Ayrael had thought it a good idea to attack while Roehan was busy with Jaleila and Taeron wondered if Jaleila even knew that Ayrael had used her failed attempt at assassination to cover for her own plans. Taeron was happy that Amyr had acquitted himself so well in commanding the men to defeat the rebels.
When he entered his chamber with Jeshed, Amyr had just finished bathing and Taeron noticed Stryfe writing on a parchment. "You did well," he told Amyr.
Although Taeron sensed Amyr's pleasure from his compliment, Amyr shrugged as he snatched up one of Taeron's finest tunics, the one he had worn to the banquet the previous evening. Seeing Taeron's frown, he laughed. "You weren't planning on wearing it tonight, were you? Scribe, what was my lord prince doing this afternoon while I wielded his sword in his name?"
Stryfe did not look up from his work. "Lord Prince Taeron spent the afternoon writing verses to win the love of his father by marriage, the love of his mate already having been secured thoroughly between first and second sunrise and several hours thereafter."
"You did not write that?" demanded Taeron with annoyance.
His brother snickered. "I cannot withhold details from the emperor."
"Perhaps you would like to stay in the room and watch so that you can be more accurate?" he suggested wryly.
Amyr rubbed his head. "I would not recommend it. I am lucky she was throwing a cup and not a chakram. My head was aching all day."
Taeron knew he was exaggerating because Amyr would not spend a moment he did not have to with an ache or pain since he could efficiently heal himself.
"So, Jeshed, has our brother composed a ballad fit for the courtship?" asked Stryfe who had not stopped writing. Taeron knew he was describing the battle, had probably spoken to several of the men upon their return and then pestered Amyr with questions whilst he bathed.
"Indeed! We spent much of the day with the imperial warriors composing a ballad that cannot fail to impress."
"With the warriors?" Both Amyr and Stryfe burst into laughter.
Taeron ignored them as he tried to find a garment that Amyr had not ruined. His mother had packed away several for him to wear at the royal court with the warning that she did not have time to be replacing his tunics and could he please not ruin them with blood, especially not his own. He supposed that was her way of telling him to be careful. Since he had already ruined one in his fight with Kai and then another when he had reopened his stitches, he was left with no choice but to accept clean clothing from Darlac, so he slipped on the plain black tunic and leggings, but he declined the head wrap.
"Fitting," remarked Amyr with a snort when he saw him pulling on long boots to complete his warrior attire. He looked at Stryfe. "I wager that he forgets to replace that lovely part in the song about eviscerating his enemies with the long blade of his imperial sword."
"I wonder whether Princess Dijana will be distracted by mention of his imperial sword."
The two men laughed and Taeron was hard pressed not to join them although he noted that Jeshed seemed confused when Darlac indicated with a gesture to what Stryfe had been referring. Jeshed still seemed a little confused, but Taeron wasn't going to explain it more explicitly. Queen Neria must have been very detailed about the female side of mating practices, leaving Jeshed with more questions than answers.
Taeron and his personal suite were seated at their own table among the other males as the females that were being courted sat with Neria and her consort at a long table at the end of the hall. He could imagine nothing worse than sitting among the dozen females that chattered incessantly, and by the annoyed look on his face, Prince Consort Roehan would rather be elsewhere. Taeron tried to ignore the queen's beckoning wave when he arrived with Darlac, Amyr, Jeshed and Stryfe, but when he was about to sit, he felt a respectful touch on his arms and he turned to see Chaela with her head bowed.
"My lord prince, Queen Neria wishes to have a word with you."
Sighing, he headed to the table with his men, and as he weaved through the tables, he noted that Dijana's other suitors sat together at a table as if they were opposing forces that had become allies to vanquish a common foe. They watched him closely as he made his way to the head table, and he noted that they spoke to each other while staring at him. Taeron doubted they made any harmful plans, but he felt a prickle of apprehension since the elder, Deryn, had not yet made his move.
Coming to the head table, he saw that Dijana was resting her chin in her hand, her eyes half-closed and he wondered if she had gotten much rest that day. He wanted to catch her eye, to smile reassuringly at her, but she was seated next to her father and he moved so that she was out of his line of sight. Although she was visibly exhausted, the other females at the table paled beside her golden beauty and Taeron wondered what had happened to the waif with whom he had fallen in love. Her golden hair fell just past her shoulders, and her long lashes were tipped with the same gold which he unfortunately noticed she got from her father when he leaned forward and fixed Taeron with a glare. A quick, warrior's perusal of the room affirmed his suspicions that many of the males were looking at his mate as well and he felt a moment's unease. He was bonded to her; she was not bonded to him.
"Relax," Amyr whispered in his ear. "She is wondering when she can handle the lord prince's sword again."
They came to the queen before he could reprimand Amyr, both for the remark and for prying into Dijana's thoughts. He bowed low to Neria.
"I wish to commend your imperial guard for the service he did for me today," Neria told him before looking at Amyr. "Sometimes the weight of expectation is heavy on our shoulders, and sometimes we cannot carry that weight. But because of who we are, we fail to accept the help of others and the weight crushes us." Taeron knew as well as Amyr that she was referring to the debacle of six years ago when his offensive had failed and led to his own enslavement as well as the losses of many Calabrians. "Prince Amyr, today you have accounted yourself well in the service of your warlord prince."
Taeron's heart filled with pride for Amyr who glanced at him before bowing to the queen. He hoped that Stryfe would recount the event for the emperor who would be very pleased to hear of his son's success. "I thank you, gracious queen."
Having done her duty as queen, she became a mother and leveled her gaze on Taeron. "I look forward to hearing you sing to my daughter."
"I am not," grumbled Roehan.
Darlac had told him that Roehan's men faced little resistance in their attack on Jaleila's fortress to the west, that the vast majority of Jaleila's men quickly surrendered and pledged service to their lawful queen. Jaleila's disgrace and her collusion with Balak was widely known so there was little sympathy for the old woman whose head had been displayed by Roehan on the end of his staff as he arrived back at the royal city. Taeron had never heard of the emperor doing such a thing during his years of rebellion, but the Teralonians seemed to be fond of decapitations. The councilor's body and head were burned in the city square after being properly prepared and Queen Neria stood in attendance, giving the woman honors in her death that she did not deserve. Neria had shown herself to be both ruthless and forgiving that day.
Ayrael did not fare as well. Amyr had brought her back in chains, and when she tried to attack Neria, the queen had efficiently disposed of her with the blades of her chakrams. Taeron guessed that while he was composing verses to music usually sung with words of butchery, Neria was hacking Ayrael to pieces. Neither Neria nor her husband seemed affected by the insurrections of the day, but he supposed they had many years to plan their return and had expected them. Neria used more restraint than Taeron would have after what had been done to her for so many years.
"I hope you will please my daughter," Neria said slyly with a sidelong smile at Dijana who had covered her mouth with her hand as she yawned.
How was he supposed to respond to that? "I will do my best."
"See that you do." Neria turned to look at her daughter. "Dijana! Greet your suitor!"
Dijana straightened. "He is not my suitor. He is my mate."
"He is your suitor until I say otherwise," growled Roehan. He fixed Taeron with a warning glare. "I have not heard any vows spoken. Indeed, I have only heard of written vows broken and shored up only by the will of the gods."
Taeron checked the urge to smile at Dijana's irritation. By the look on Roehan's face, the man was not in a mood after all that had happened that day to listen to his daughter argue. Taeron gave Dijana a flourishing bow that would have delighted his mother after her many efforts to teach him to observe the courtesies to females imposed upon the Calabrians at Trey's court.
"Good evening, my lord prince," Dijana said, her voice husky as she met his gaze.
Her father glared at her so Taeron murmured a quick greeting and followed his men to a table where they ignored the fruit and nuts offered to partake in the meal which was provided by Darlac's men that night. The Teralonian's viewed the Calabrian table with mixed reactions as the dark warriors waited on their commanders, and the few who were able to see what they were eating did not hide their disgust. Stryfe moved around the fruit and nuts, then sighed when he did not find any cooked flesh.
"I don't know who is worse, you bug-eating Calabrians or these fruit and nut eating birds." He flagged down a serving woman to pour him some wine. "At least the nectar wine is delightful."
"You drink too much," Taeron scolded him. He noticed that Jeshed had made a pile before him of fruits, nuts and beetles. His shape-shifting brother seemed to enjoy eating everything, and he wondered if he had ever eaten a human during his time as a dragon.
Jeshed stopped munching on a handful of whatever he had shoved in his mouth – he had not gotten the polite mechanics of eating quite right yet, but that was another thing Larya would enjoy instructing him on – and he looked at Taeron. "I have not eaten any two-legged creatures. There was a four-legged beast on Norvana that once rose on its two legs to challenge me in my dragon form, and it swatted my nose with its paw. So I ate it. It was not as tasty as I thought it would be."
Amyr laughed. "I would like to be there when you tell Lady Larya such stories."
His mother would probably enjoy hearing Jeshed talk about his dragon form. When Taeron was a small boy, on those occasions when Trey allowed him time with his mother, she would lay down with him at night and tell him wondrous tales that she had heard from traveling story-tellers. She was the first one to tell him the story of the lost prince, and after she had, he saw his adopted parents in a new light. He wondered if they even knew how much his mother admired them, despite the many things she had done to keep them apart.
The meal soon came to an end and the males began the second phase of their courtship ritual. One after another they approached the table where Neria and Roehan sat with the women who were being formally courted. He would prove his song worthy now, and if the female showed her appreciation, he would perform it outside her window while keeping himself aloft with his wings. Taeron wondered aloud if that meant their sleep would be disturbed by a cacophony of singing males during the night.
Amyr leaned toward Taeron. "Do you suppose that after they sing outside their window that the females invite them inside to show their worthiness more intimately?"
"My brother has already done that," chortled Stryfe. Taeron noticed that the half-dozen males seemed to be led by two strong contenders that Taeron knew were Neria's personal guard. They had their heads together and where speaking furiously with glances at his table. Taeron knew they had heard Stryfe's comment.
"You drink too much," Taeron scolded him.
Stryfe frowned at him. "It helps me sleep. Do you think I enjoy remembering everything I see and hear?"
Since there were many memories of what he had done on Teralon and Varoonya that Taeron was glad faded with time, he could not argue. "Then watch your tongue."
His brother did not speak again as they listened to the men who sang to their chosen females with varying degrees of skill. Taeron was afraid that his brothers would make scathing remarks when males sang so wretchedly that the sound was worse than a canyon beast's mating roar. Gods, during their mating season it had been impossible to sleep in the Edgeland Fortress. The Teralonian females who were treated to such an abhorrent lack of talent still smiled dreamily at their chosen males. Taeron thought the courting ritual was ridiculous when the mates had already decided on each other, but he supposed there was some reason the Teralonians subjected each other to such humiliation. Would he sound like a canyon beast? He mentally shrugged. He would sing, and if his voice cracked or pained the ears, he did not care because he was doing it for Dijana.
The suitors for Princess Dijana stepped forward after all the other males had finished, and Taeron left the table to join them although he noticed Amyr and Stryfe exchange an amused glance. They would be talking about this event for many years, probably telling Taeron's children what a fool he had made of himself, but Taeron would gladly humiliate himself to give the courtship to Dijana that she deserved.
The reason that the other suitors for her hand had sat together became apparent as the first man began a song extolling her virtues that the next male continued and the song carried on and on, the flattery excessive. The voices were weak to begin with, but as each man stepped in to continue they grew better until first Guillem, then Valter awed the men and women gathered by their deep, clear voices. Even Taeron thought they were pleasant to listen to, and he glanced at Dijana to see her smiling at the winged warriors before she thanked them all for their efforts at the conclusion. That was quite the performance to follow!
The men moved away with smug smirks at him, but Taeron ignored them as he turned to face the queen. "I cannot hope to equal their effort," he told her.
"No, you cannot," she agreed with a sigh.
"They have put into song my own feelings about Princess Dijana." He glanced at Dijana whose brows were drawn together, no doubt thinking he was not going to honor her with a song.
"So you will not sing?" asked Roehan with a pleased smile he made no effort to hide.
"Princess Dijana already knows my feelings for her," Taeron told them. "So I shall sing to you a ballad that my men and I have prepared to tell you of the greatest Calabrian story of love."
He waited for a moment, sensing movement behind him and he knew that the warriors had come into the hall, so he began to sing the story that had shaped his heart. To the tune of a warrior's chant, he sang the story of a young prince that had dared to love where he should not, who had paid for his audacity by having the part of his soul that held his love for her torn away, of how that prince had been carried away by the gods. He sang of the emptiness of the prince's soul until the gods had reunited him with his beloved, and she had helped him regain what had been taken away. His voice told of the aguish of their separation and the bliss of their reunion, and while he did not have an instrument, the warriors hummed for him, but he knew the melody well.
During the song, he dared not look anywhere but at Dijana, and he could see that she listened carefully to the song, and when she started blinking he forced himself to continue although he wondered if he was doing so poorly that she was ashamed. But as he continued to sing, pouring his own feeling for her into the song of love, tears began to roll down her cheeks, and when he sang the last word, the entire hall was silent but for sniffling.
Now he glanced away from Dijana who was wiping her tears and he saw that Chaela's face was wet and that Queen Neria was crying onto her husband's shoulder. Gods damn! Was he that terrible?
He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to see Stryfe, but his brother was not laughing. "By the gods brother," his voice was cracked with emotion. "You have been blessed."
"Indeed, my lord prince, I did not expect a man who lives by the sword to do what you have just done," Queen Neria raised her head and swiped at her eyes. "I had never heard the truth of that story, Prince Taeron. You have honored us with your gods' blessed voice this evening. I thank you."
Her mate glowered, but did not remark.
Taeron bowed to the royal family, and after a last look at Dijana, knowing that he would not be able to climb to her windows that night if Roehan's look was any indication, he moved among the tables, conscious of the amazed stares of the Teralonians. Did they think he only hacked men to pieces? Of course they did because that was all he had done on this gods' cursed planet. That was why Roehan did not want his daughter to be his mate and actively worked against him. Perhaps he had proven to them that Calabrians were not just blood-thirsty warriors.
Amyr was not at the table, and Darlac nodded to the doors to the garden, and Taeron frowned as he headed out of the hall in that direction. He found Amyr sitting alone deep in the garden, staring up at the moon, and when he heard his footsteps, he turned his head and Taeron saw that he had been crying.
"You too?" he asked with a short laugh.
"By the gods, Taeron, what you did was beautiful. I have never thought of my parents as a man and woman in love, and while I know what they suffered to be together, I never imagined how it must have felt to them. Your song made me feel their pain and their joy."
"They continue to suffer," Taeron told him, remembering what he had overheard when they had argued about Amyr. "Your father's rule would be easier without your mother at his side, but he could not live without her."
"I know what they say," murmured Amyr as he looked up at the moon again. "It is easier to ignore their insults and their accusations than to face them. My mother is kind and sweet and gentle and fierce. My grandfather was a bastard for naming her a whore and putting her in the Wastelands because the imperials have not and never will forget."
"Your grandfather did not do that to her," Taeron reminded him. "He would not have hurt his beloved children, but Camridaeus took his life from him. Dax was a Guerani whose only fault was that he could not protect those he loved from the creature within him."
Amyr was silent for a moment, and then he turned his head to look past Taeron.
Taeron turned to see Chaela approaching. When she reached him, she put her arms around him and hugged him tightly, burying her face in his chest. "Thank you, Taeron," she sobbed against him. "You have honored our house this night."
He kissed the top of her head. "You honor me with you praise, princess."
Chaela looked at Amyr. "I felt your sorrow, Amyr."
"I have shamed the love my mother and father have for each other with my actions."
Chaela moved away from Taeron and went to her brother. She put her arms around him and brought his head down so that their foreheads touched. "We have both shamed them, brother, but it is not too late to redeem ourselves."
Amyr laughed bitterly. "Perhaps not for you, Chaela, but father has rejected me."
"He is only a man who makes mistakes like other men and he regrets what he did," Taeron told him. "You have given him reason to be proud, and when we return to Calabria, you will learn for yourself what I already know. He loves you and he is ashamed that he let others poison his heart."
Amyr raised his head and smiled sadly at Taeron. "You should have been his son."
Taeron laughed. "I am his son, did you forget? You and I share our fathers."
When Amyr held out his hand, Taeron took it. "You have always been the brother of my heart, Taeron."
Taeron squeezed his hand. "You will always be mine."
And yet he felt his heart ache as if he had forgotten something important, but the feeling was so fleeting that he could not quite grasp it. So he shrugged off the odd feeling and encompassed Chaela and Amyr in his embrace.
