Chapter 16

"He killed them!?"

She dropped the book in disbelief. Chezem snatched it off the ground and hastily inspected it. That was as far as his outrage extended. He was completely unperturbed by the revelation she had just shared. Although after checking the condition of the book, he continued to watch, curiously amused by the deeply unsettled expression on her face.

"They were children! Your cousins! That doesn't make you feel anything?!"

Chezem gave a tired sigh and turned to put the book back on the shelf. When it came to the succession, morality wasn't a question that the royal family was unfamiliar with. For him and his brothers especially, it came to them in their beds in the darkest hours of the night, or hunched over their desks in the wee hours of the morning, or at the most inopportune times, as they stared each other in the face and smiled. How far would they go to secure the throne? If it meant retracing their father's footsteps, could they? Would they?

"Not particularly," he answered.

She lurched back in her seat as the fixed monotony in his voice sent a chill down her spine.

"Although I was raised in this palace, I lived in separate quarters so I don't know them as anything other than names in a book. Rather, you should ask Melchiorre about it. He was older at the time. Lambert as well, he might remember it."

It was his lack of fear that fueled her own. She opened her mouth a few times to speak but closed it when she couldn't think of what to say.

Chezem put his hand to his chin and looked askance as he tried to recall exact dates in his mind. It wasn't that he thought it was an interesting topic but rarely ever did he get the opportunity to impress company. He was a softer person when compared to his brothers and his usual voice was gentle with a hint of resignation. But when he spoke at the meeting, he had such an undoubted manner that was the very same as his father. Now, he was happily telling ghost stories in a combination of the two.

"About four-hundred years ago," he began in a purposely eerie tone, "it was common practice for the new king, once his first son was born, to kill any and every male in his family that might try to usurp him. Cousins, nephews... and especially brothers."

"But today, that kind of thing," she began to ask, "you wouldn't..."

"Well of course it's not done today," he answered, mildly offended by her suspicions. "In the 17th century, it was changed from execution to lifelong imprisonment in the old palace. A few centuries later, modernization made even that obsolete so it was just decided that the succession would follow seniority. No one's been imprisoned or executed by royal decree since my father's ascension."

Despite the history lesson, or perhaps because of it, her feelings were back at square one. If by law the crown automatically went to the oldest relative than King Tamir's actions had even less justification. She realized the only thing it did was secure a line to the throne for his own sons and them alone.

"Prince Chezem, you don't think something like that will happen again? It doesn't... scare you?"

"Aren't you here so I won't have to concern myself with things like that," he asked in reply. There was still no change in his bored expression. He returned to his seat on the couch and resumed his own reading. "If you pick the successor and his majesty agrees, then what use is underhanded schemes?"

"I hope you're right," she mumbled.

She sighed heavily. The safety of the palace, of the kingdom and of the princes, was up to her. The succession had been thrown out of order the day Melchiorre had decided to go off the deep end. Lambert had stepped up to take his place, but Jun was not so far behind. While the other princes merely watched and waited, the matter seemingly settled itself. Then she arrived and suddenly the choice for the next king, her choice, was anybody's guess.

"Prince Chezem, if you were in my position... how would you decide? Ah, would you pick yourself?"

"I wouldn't," he shot back. She had meant it as a lighthearted joke but he made it immediately clear that it was against his taste.

"I'm sorry," she apologized quickly under his fierce glare. "I didn't mean it like that. Uhm... then do you have another book that you think might help me decide?"

"I think it's best if we leave off here for today. I'll have something for you by tomorrow."

He sounded slightly apologetic but no less angry as he rose from his seat to shoo her out of his room. She stood outside his door and looked around the hallway. Medina hadn't returned to retrieve her and there were no guards or servants around that she could see. She briefly wondered if she should turn back around and ask Chezem but decided to find the way back to her room alone. If she stayed only in parts of the palace that she was familiar with, she figured she'd either run into someone who could help her or just find her way eventually.

She stepped outside the pavilion to find that the sky was darker than expected. The night had snuck up on her while she was reading. The corridors and walk-ways were lit by decorative lanterns made of metal and stained glass. Although the effect was pretty, the shadows they cast were not soothing in the least bit. It made it harder to see anything that could be lurking behind columns or among the garden hedges. She was crossing the courtyard when she heard footsteps in the grass behind her. She turned around to look for whoever it was but saw no one.

"It's just a cat or something..."

She said a silent prayer as she turned back around and walked faster. The footsteps kept rhythm; they sped up when she did, they slowed down when she did. Completely giving up on her cat theory, she broke out into a run. It caught up to her and grabbed her by the shoulder. A hand was over her mouth before she could scream.

"Stay quiet," it whispered.

She recognized the voice and took a momentary glimpse at Chezem. He took her hand, held it tight, and pulled her into a run that forced all her attention on keeping up with him. Instead of turning back towards his room, he pulled her off the path and into complete darkness. He knew his way around with or without light, an advantageous skill he used well and often for both business and pleasure.

They ran from one courtyard to the next until he found what he was looking for. It was a tree that had been completely hollowed out on one side yet continued to grow. It was just one of many that dotted the gardens through out the palace but this one was one of the very few that had actually grown big enough to shield more than one person.

With a quick turn that took her breath away, he pulled her into his arms and held her against his chest as he backed into it. His silent orders to stay still were enforced by the strength he used to hold her. With her head pressed against his chest, she was surprised at hearing just how rapidly his heart was beating. Between the two of them, was he the more afraid?

The sudden sounds of heavy feet coming towards them caused her own heart to race. They stomped around just short of where they had hidden. Then it passed them by and continued running on. Neither she nor Chezem dared to breathe as they waited to see if they would come back. The minutes slowed to what felt like hours before either of them felt safe enough to leave. Once she did, she backed away from him with and inhaled a deep breath of fresh air.

"Thank you, Prince Chezem," she whispered.

"Not yet. Let's get going quickly before they turn back around."

He held out his hand and she took it without hesitance. He lead the way and they hurried along without further speaking a word. They instead kept a listening ear out for any approaching sounds. She tried to not hold on too tightly to him but every sound that wasn't a cricket or bird made her defensively edge herself closer. Whether he minded or not was hard to tell as he said nothing.

The only time he reacted was when they neared her room. The door opened suddenly and they quickly dove behind the nearest pillar. They both watched wordlessly as an unknown man exited from her room. He closed the door back softly, careful not to make any noise. He looked both ways down the hall, his face obscured by shadows, then he swiftly walked to the large portrait, opened the secret door, and disappeared inside.

Once the portrait closed back, Chezem let go of her hand and urged her on towards her room. It wasn't lost on her that he was urging her forward while he himself stayed back for fear of his own safety. She opened the door and covered her mouth with her hands after a sharp gasp. It had been thoroughly trashed. She took slow steps inside as she looked at the damage with disbelieving eyes.

All the drawers had been pulled out and their contents dumped on the floor. The remaining furniture had been upended and smashed open. The mattress had been pushed aside, the sheets torn off, and every pillow cut open. Even her clothes had been tossed about and draped over the mess. She only peeked inside the bathroom and the smashed mirror said that not even it had been spared.

"That person we saw leaving did this, didn't they? Why!?"

She bit her lip to quell the tears in her eyes. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't really her room. It was just a guestroom after all and she had no ownership of it. Still, she had developed an attachment to it and it hurt all the same.

Chezem had slowly followed behind her and carefully kicked the debris around with his foot as he kept a watchful eye out for broken glass.

"Look at this," he said as he pointed to where the carpet had been cut into pieces and the floorboards pulled up. Then he pointed at the lock on the nightstand dresser that had been crudely smashed open. Finally, he pointed out that even her mattress had been cut open and all but pulled apart as feathers blanketed the room like snow.

"Obviously they were looking for the bracelet. And desperately, judging by how thorough they were."

Her hand clamped down reflexively on her wrist.

"I always wear it on me!"

"But they didn't know that. After not finding it in your room, they must have left to..."

His voice trailed off as he worked out a logical conclusion in his mind. It was highly unlikely that the person they saw just now was the same person that had chased them in the garden. There wasn't enough time for them to get here before them and conduct such an intensive search. That meant that there was more than one suspect. But there was only one target they were after and if Alex wasn't in her room, then the next place they'd look is the place she had been last.

"My room," he gasped. "My books!"

He tore from the room and ran down the hallway at top speed.

"Prince Chezem," she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Wait, don't leave me! Prince Chezem!"

The scene of a prince running through the palace followed by her screaming at the top of her lungs was sure to attract attention. The chase turned into a procession as palace guards raced behind them, trying to get either one or both of them to stop or slow down.

He didn't stop until he reached his own room. He threw open the door and ran from one bookshelf to the other. He didn't rest until he finished eyeing everything to be sure it was just as he left it. Then he turned around only to jump in surprise at the brigade of guards, wondering when they got there and from where had they come from.

As he had been driven by his single-mindedness, he wasn't even out of breath. By stark contrast, Alex was on the floor in his doorway and panting. It had been more running then she had ever done in her life and her chest felt like it was about to burst. After the situation was explained, she was ordered to stay the night in his room while another was prepared for her.

A trundle bed was brought in for her even though he had offered to clear off some room on the couch for her. As mundane as it seemed, she was touched that he would at least put her somewhere near the same importance of his books. She knew it was far from equal, but it was a still a gesture of consideration. When the excitement finally settled down, they sat entrenched in their own thoughts.

They both jumped at the intrusion of a knock at the door. Ivan entered quickly followed by Medina. The question of where she had been all this time was pushed out of mind as Alex ran to hug Ivan. With a stern voice, he rebuffed her and pushed her from his arms.

"Miss Alexandra, please conduct yourself in a manner befitting your station."

The coldness of his words put them all in a state of shock. Chezem cleared his throat to take command of the situation but went unheard.

"Really? I was almost attacked twice tonight and that's all you have to say to me?!"

There was hurt in her voice but her tone was testy. She was allowing him a chance to say something that would placate her. The two spectators locked eyes and then looked back at the scene. They both knew a fuse had been lit.

"I'm well aware of these incidents. I apologize for your distress, but please remember yourself. Make sure you do not inconvenience Master Chezem while you're in his graces. Medina has been assigned to see to anything you might need through the rest of your stay. Now please excuse me, good night."

He turned and left the room. She stood silent as it all slowly seeped in. His voice was curt and formal. He had been insensitive, stand-offish, even rude. He didn't even look at her when he spoke. This was the farthest thing from what was between them before. She had come near to being hurt and if it hadn't been for Chezem... Before, Ivan would have hugged her, petted her, and told her not to cry.

She gritted her teeth ran after Ivan, grabbing him by the wrist of his jacket. She pulled hard and forced him to stop, to look at her face and see the anger and tears he was now the cause of.

"What is with you!?"

"Let go this instant!" He tried to pull away but she only held on tighter.

"Why are you acting this way," she asked louder. "Weren't you assigned to me!? I didn't give you permission to leave me! So why are you-"

"Did you forget the reason you're here," he replied angrily. "You have a vital duty to perform! You must pick the next king and you can not leave until your task is complete."

"I know that," she cried. "That's not what I'm saying!"

"I don't want to hear anything else," he yelled. As his voice bounced off the walls, he took a deep breath to try and regain his composure.

"The princes are all fine young men. You should get to know them. You can't do that if you're clinging to me. Least of all, it is unsightly. You have a job to do. Focus your attention on that instead."

"Ivan, I'm scared," she said plainly.

He swallowed hard. He grabbed her hand and patted it gently.

"I know," he said softly. "The guards here are good men and women. They'll protect you."

He let her go. He straightened his jacket, turned and walked away. She watched him leave, getting smaller and smaller before he turned a corner and disappeared. She furiously brushed the tears from her eyes and turned towards Chezem's room. Her steps were slow and she knew full well the humiliation she was wearing. Not even the guards dared to her meet her eyes as she passed them.

Inside the room, Chezem lay reclined on the couch pretending to be engrossed in a book and not as if he had just been hanging on every word from the door way. Likewise, Medina pretended to be straightening the bedsheets but the blush on her face was too obvious.

"I know you guys heard," she said with a broken voice. "It's fine."

A second later, Medina wrapped her arms wrapped around her to try to comfort her. "I'm sorry..."

"I can't believe it..." said Chezem. He wasted no time in putting his book down and stared at her with rapt attention. "Ivan, of all people..."

"I knew he was avoiding you, but I didn't know why," Medina added with a guilty look.

"I think we still don't know why..."

Chezem was once again off in his own little world as his mind raced a mile a minute. He was thinking of thousands of possibilities and crossing them off as least to most likely as they played out in his head. What reason could Ivan have that would make him reject her so fiercely?

"He's raised us since we were young. He's been so serious and restrained in all that time. And now this," he said absentmindedly. "This is exciting."

His words earned him looks of slight disdain from the two women.

"Prince Chezem, could you please be a little less enthusiastic? I am kind of overwhelmed right now."

"Chezem," he corrected her. "Just call me by my name, please."

She agreed without argument and didn't bother to ask why. She told herself that if she remembered, she'd do so tomorrow when she had the energy.

"I've decided I'll help you," he declared suddenly.

"What," she asked flatly. "Help me how, exactly?"

"Someone's out to get either you, the bracelet, or both," he began. "The succession is on the line so there's not exactly a narrow pool of suspects to choose from. Foreign conspirators might be involved as well if you take all things into consideration."

"This is not helping me calm down," she told him.

"Yes, I'm fired up too," he said as if he had just had an epiphany. "But I don't want to get involved in anything that might be too dangerous. So instead, I'll just help you in ways that aren't inconvenient to me."

She narrowed her eyes at him. What was he even offering at this point? It sounded like he just wanted to be a spectator as long as it entertained him.

"Ms. Alex," Medina interjected, offering a suggestion. "Chezem's knowledgeable about all kinds of things involving the royal family and the country. If you ask him about matters involving the succession-"

"Except that," he interrupted.

"What do you mean 'except that'," Alex shouted in outrage. "In my list of problems that need help, the succession is literally all of them!"

"I mean, I don't want the succession for myself so if you're thinking of asking me to take it, I refuse."

"Any reason why?"

"It might cause trouble among the ministers." Medina answered first without thinking about her words or her audience. "Prince Chezem's mother is an extremely wealthy oligarch. If he were given the bracelet, there might be talk that your choosing him was rigged."

As she suddenly remembered herself, she turned to him and bowed apologetically, "forgive my rudeness, your highness."

His face said that he heard as much before but it never failed to upset him.

"I don't exactly understand." Alex looked to him for a more definitive answer. "How could it be rigged if you're a prince?"

A downtrodden look came over him as he began to explain.

"My mother's family owns oil fields both in this country and a few others. We also run a business exporting diamonds from West Africa to be sold around the world. My mother spends most of her time away from the palace and managing these affairs. Even though she's married to my father, her royal title is considered secondary to her wealth."

She nodded along as she remembered an earlier lesson on how the king's harem worked. With status came the king's favoritism. With favoritism came power. But it sounded like Chezem's mother had enough of it that being royalty was actually a step down. Never in her life had she ever thought she would be faced with such a problem as anyone being too rich.

"How tragic," she quipped with a completely straight face.

"If I were to inherit the throne, it would only upset people. They'd say I was corrupt and that I brought the throne instead of ascended due to my own merits."

The bass in his voice started to lower as he grew angrier.

"Ever since I was born, people have tried to use me only thinking that I'll give them money. Adults would tell their children to be sure to be friends with me and ask for expensive gifts. Now that I'm older, they'll think that my mother will pass on the business to me so they've started hounding me themselves with bribes. If I throw enough money around, I could sway whatever laws they wanted in their favor. They don't think that I am still a prince, but I am," he shouted. "I have feelings, do they know that?! I have morals and loyalty and my personhood can not be bought or sold!"

As he huffed out of breath, Alex and Medina exchanged nervous glances. She may have been in life threatening danger but suddenly, that seemed small.

The dark cloud over him made her both happy that he hadn't heard her earlier insult and guilty that she had even said it. So maybe there were some problems that came with being too rich. For him, that problem was learning to be able to tell who was a sincere friend among a hive of greedy opportunists. He couldn't run away from his problems like Melchiorre. He didn't have Lambert's ability to impose his will. He didn't have Jun's cunning to use their greed against them. He didn't have Alvah's conviviality that kept ill-harm at bay, or Nagit's deceptive childishness. He was reticent and socially anxious, but honest. He had developed the only defense he could, which was his ability to get by quietly and unnoticed with his detached reputation.

As she thought about it, she realized there was a pattern beginning to emerge. Which of the princes didn't have problems involving court life? At least there was Alvah, she guessed. She was beginning to wonder more about just what kind of father King Tamir was that all his sons would have such issues. The fact that she hadn't seen him in weeks was certainly saying something.

"Alex..." Chezem called her out of her thoughts with a pained look on his face.

"Yes!?"

"You at least, you're not after anything from me, are you?"

"Well... from you, no," was her forlorn reply. She held up her wrist and flashed the bracelet around. "What I want is to be rid of this."

"If that's true, than we can be allies. You can visit me whenever you'd like when I'm not busy. I'll keep a look out and if there's something that I could research that could help, let me know."

"Rather than allies, Chezem," she smiled, "let's be friends."