As days passed and Arst settled into a routine, he caught himself thinking that it wasn't too bad, after all. He still loathed his circumstances, of course, and was finding it harder and harder to resist engaging in small acts of rebellion, but he held out, partly because he had promised his father, and partly because…
Arst glanced up from his book to look at the man sitting at the low table across the room. Prince Lin's brow was furrowed in concentration, his brush hovering above a sheet of paper. He'd spent the latter half of the afternoon at his desk, writing what appeared to be poetry—Arst had sneaked a peek when he came into the room earlier, before being promptly shooed toward the other side of the room, where he sat cross-legged on a mat, (re)reading one of the few books he'd brought along. This one was a work of fiction, describing the story of a young doctor falling in love with a spirit. It was actually from Karla's collection of romance novels, but he had fond memories of reading it with her and sharing their opinions on it when they were younger, so she had agreed to part with it when he had packed the belongings he would take with him to the capital.
Arst stifled a yawn, then hid a smile behind his hand when he saw the prince's expression change and his hand trace characters quickly, like in a trance. Inspiration must have struck. The way the brush danced on the paper was mesmerizing. His posture straight, with a ray of setting sunlight highlighting that strand of golden hair that always seemed to resist taming, the prince looked like a picture of serenity and elegance. Arst caught himself regretting that the atmosphere was so tense between them. Quiet moments like these, where they simply coexisted in the same room, each focused on their own hobby, brought a certain sense of peace that Arst had never expected to find here.
That was the reason Arst had not—yet—slipped up and antagonized a Long Dau, not even when he had to endure snide remarks from the prince's uncles at the banquet the other night. So far, Prince Lin had given him no reason to oppose him, and though his glares and silences were disconcerting, the delicate balance that had settled between them was not something Arst wanted to disturb. At this point, he considered it a miracle to be stuck with the one Long Dau who showed no interest in making his life miserable, and he was not about to try his luck.
Arst resumed his reading until the growing darkness required them to light candles. He set his book aside and stretched, aware of the curious gaze following his movements.
"Nils will be there with dinner soon," he told the prince. "I'm going to tidy up."
Prince Lin nodded and went back to writing.
Later that evening, Nils and a few servants brought dinner. Arst sat opposite the prince in silence, as usual. Lost in thought, he absentmindedly brought a piece of meat to his mouth… and immediately proceeded to choke on it. His eyes watered as his mouth erupted in burning pain.
"What's wrong?" Prince Lin asked, alarmed. "Poison?"
"That's not possible!" Nils exclaimed. "The food was checked!"
Arst did his best to swallow, wincing when the burning sensation spread to his throat. He shook his head, coughing. "S-Spice," he managed to croak out. Through the tears, he saw the prince frown and take a bite from his plate. He chewed with a thoughtful expression while Arst reached for a cup of water.
"This is rather mild," the prince commented, puzzled.
Arst nearly choked again, for entirely different reasons. This was considered mild?! Belatedly, he recalled that Xian Yang was on a strategic commercial route, and that spices from Xian Du and the Rakorum region were thus easy to come by. Their cuisine was therefore significantly more spiced than what Arst had grown up with, and that was without accounting for his personal inability to handle more than the mildest peppers. Thinking about it, he had been lucky that the meals served over the previous weeks had not been seasoned to this degree.
"N-Not used to it," he explained between gulps. The water did little to quell the fire raging inside his mouth.
For once, the prince looked at him with an expression that was not the usual annoyance or indifference. If Arst had the mind to analyze it, he would probably find it to be caught between pity and amusement. As it was, he was too preoccupied with trying to regain his bearings. He missed what the prince whispered to Nils, but the attendant left the house in a hurry.
"I'm fine," Arst muttered. He considered the plates in front of him. The meat was definitely dangerous, but the red flakes sprinkled over the vegetables told him those were a trap, too. No escape, then, he thought pitifully, steeling himself.
"You don't have to—" Prince Lin started.
"I'm fine," Arst repeated. And promptly gobbled another piece. This time, he was prepared for it, so he was able to control his reaction, although this did nothing to abate the pain.
Prince Lin was biting his lips, whose corners were upturned. It was probably taking him a lot of restraint not to burst out laughing, Arst had to hand him that. He felt thoroughly humiliated, but he had no one to blame but himself. This suffering must be a punishment for his pride.
He took another bite, and he must have looked rather pathetic doing so because the prince winced in sympathy. "You don't have to force yourself," he said. Arst responded by swallowing another piece of vegetable, holding his gaze with determination. Prince Lin shook his head with a small smile. "Stubborn man…"
After a few more bites of the dreadful meal, Arst started to feel his mouth becoming numb. Just when he thought this would make the ordeal more bearable, Nils came back, balancing a plate with one hand while he opened the door with the other.
"Milk, plain rice, and sweets," he described as he set each element in front of Arst.
"This should help soothe your palate," Prince Lin explained.
"My palate is fine."
The prince snorted and tried to hide his smile by drinking from his own cup. Finally conceding defeat, Arst reached for the milk and drank, letting it linger in his mouth for a moment. It worked much better than water to alleviate the burning sensation. "Thank you," he muttered honestly. The prince merely nodded in acknowledgment and resumed eating.
They did not talk any more while they finished their dinner, though Arst felt the weight of the prince's gaze on him the entire time. Arst felt the urge to say something, anything that could start a conversation and break the silence he was now used to in this house. The prince looked to be in a good mood for once (all thanks to his own suffering, Arst admitted sullenly), so perhaps he would be more open to attempts at small talk. However, Arst did not know what to say.
Surprisingly, it was the prince who approached him first, as they were settling into their respective beddings for the night. "Do you like romance novels?" he asked out of the blue.
Arst looked up at him, eyebrows raised.
"Ah, I just happened to recognize the cover of the book you were reading earlier," the prince explained. "A good choice," he added, nodding approvingly.
"It's technically my sister's, although we have always shared our favorites. Darhan is quite remote, so good books are hard to come by. This is certainly one of those we've reread the most."
The prince's eyes widened, as though he could not fathom growing up without everything he wanted at his disposal and having to rely on a sibling to provide entertainment. "Come with me tomorrow," he said quickly. "The castle library is well furnished. I can help you find more." No sooner had the words left his mouth that doubt crossed his expression. He looked hesitant, like he was not sure how Arst would take his proposition.
Arst smiled his first genuine smile in weeks. "I shall trust your advice, then."
The castle library was, as Prince Lin had promised, well-furnished indeed. Arst had only seen the building from the outside, and it had seemed quite big even then, but standing among the endless rows of books and scrolls, Arst could not hide his amazement.
"This is the largest library in all of Auj Oule," Prince Lin bragged. "It didn't use to be that big, but Mother sponsored its expansion."
"Do you share your readings with her, then?" Arst asked curiously.
Prince Lin nodded. "And Nils too, but he does not have an eye for rhymes like she does."
Arst did not know the queen of the Long Dau clan well—he'd only caught glimpses of her here and there, and the longest he'd been in her presence was at the wedding ceremony. From his observations, though, she looked like a refined lady. He supposed that a taste for the literary arts fit her image.
"She's always considered literacy and education important," Prince Lin explained absentmindedly while shuffling through a shelf's contents. His hand stopped on a book with a dark cover. He hesitated a moment before taking it out and handing it to Arst. "If you like adventure with a touch of romance, you might enjoy this one. It's a story about a group of characters trying to save their world from prophesied destruction. The plot is well-woven together, although the ending has been known to spark debate."
Arst took the book and traced his fingers over the title, his interest piqued. "That sounds promising."
"I would be interested to hear your thoughts." Prince Lin's expression was solemn, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that reminded Arst of the times when Karla talked about her interests.
After that, the prince let him explore the library at his leisure. The shelves were divided into sections, classing the works by type and genre. More than the fiction section Prince Lin had showed him first, or the poem anthologies the prince was currently shifting through, it was the vast choice of philosophical treaties and military manuals that caught Arst's attention.
"So much knowledge, all gathered in one place…" he murmured. Feeling the prince's interrogative gaze, he elaborated. "Father had to travel down here to find us a history book that was not terribly out of date. And we were lucky to have a good tutor. The heirs to the Pasham clan could not name more than five clans under Long Dau administration, and three of those are their neighbors. Books like these… they are hard to find in the north."
"Couldn't you invite traveling merchants? That is how we usually acquire publications from Rashugal."
Arst shook his head. "The region is too remote and the clime is harsh. Merchants only come with supplies from which they can be sure to profit, and our clans do not have much funds to spare on non-necessities."
"I see…" Prince Lin was frowning in thought, trying to reconcile Arst's description with the life he had always known. He must have grown up rather sheltered, Arst realized.
Arst had been dealing with the Long Dau clan for nearly a decade now, either with envoys or directly with the ruling family. He had taken orders from the prince's uncles on several occasions, and of course from Chief Lars when the situation called for his involvement, but had never met the prince himself—he'd seen him a few times from afar, especially when he was younger, but had never been in close contact with him. Come to think of it, it was strange that he had never fought alongside the prince's troops. There were few campaigns or skirmishes Arst had not participated in since he'd made his debut on a real battlefield, and surely the prince should have attended some of them. But try as he might, Arst could not remember seeing him among their troops.
"Have you ever left the capital?" Arst asked.
"I've been to Xian Du, sometimes…" Prince Lin answered. "And to the royal capital, to pay respect to the king when I came of age."
Arst had never met the King of Auj Oule. The royal clan was known not to bother itself with the smaller clans, and dealt only with the major clans administrating the country's vast territories. Officially, it stood above all the others. But in practice, its influence on the other six major clans hung on a thin thread. The king rarely intervened in squabbles over territories as long as the other clans respected his supremacy. A balance was thus struck between the influential clans, leaving smaller clans like the Outways at the mercy of their rulers' whims.
As the heir to the great Long Dau clan, Prince Lin was expected to follow his father's footsteps on the warpath. And yet, even though he was long past the age for his first real battle, Arst had never seen him in action, nor even heard any talk about his skills. From his observations, the prince spent most of his days at the library or in his study at home. He went out to the city a couple of times, but Arst had not been allowed to accompany him, despite itching to get out of the castle for once. None of those instances had seemed to be related to martial practice, however.
"If you've been to Khan Baliq, you must have crossed the Mon Highlands," Arst remarked. "Darhan is under a similar clime, though the road is less maintained."
"That sounds… unpleasant."
Arst shrugged. "We're used to it. And it has some advantages too." One of which being that the arduous access gave their clan some much-needed natural protection. Although they would not stand a chance against the full force of the Long Dau, a northern campaign would be costly to them. This was a good deterrent against would-be invaders, and probably one of the main reasons they were less likely to be the target of a punitive expedition than the clans residing in the milder eastern region of the Long Dau's territories. It was no wonder, then, that Arst's numerous acts of insubordination had been tolerated for so long, when Lars Long Dau was usually known for his ruthlessness against the smallest hint of dissidence.
Arst and the prince spent the remainder of the day in the library, reading in comfortable silence and exchanging comments from time to time. Nils came to bring them lunch and joined them for a while, but he left again to run errands in the afternoon. Hunger was the main reason they headed home in the evening. They were discussing the recent plot twist in Arst's new book on the way back when they were interrupted by a gruff call.
"Lin!"
Arst stopped in his tracks, recognizing the voice as Lars Long Dau's. He immediately turned toward him and bowed. Next to him, Prince Lin nodded in greeting with a tense "Father."
Lars Long Dau strode toward them, his eyes fixed on his son. He looked irate, but then again Arst had never seen him in a good mood. For once, his anger was not directed at him, however.
"I met Rian Li," Lars declared. Arst recognized the name as belonging to the instructor whose lessons he had been attending with other noble youths at the castle's training hall.
Prince Lin kept his gaze on the ground, waiting for his father to continue.
"He told me you have been skipping practice again."
"I…"
"I allowed some leeway for you to get settled in your marital life, but it is past time you resumed. Even he has been attending!" Lars pointed to Arst, who merely inclined his head, determined to avoid bringing attention to himself. Lars continued his tirade in Long Dau. The meaning was lost on Arst, but judging by his tone and Prince Lin's frozen expression, his words must not have been pleasant. "Anyway," he switched back to the common tongue after a while, "the next session is in two days. I'd better hear reports of your attendance. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Father."
Lars Long Dau left as briskly as he had appeared, leaving his son to glare at the ground in silence. When it didn't seem like he would move, Arst took a step toward him, but at that moment the prince looked up and started walking toward their residence, stepping around him without a glance. Arst swallowed what he had been about to say and caught up with him.
They would speak no word of this encounter.