Chapter 18

The place he meant when he said he was taking her to rest was none other than his own room. Even though she sat across from him on a separate couch, she was no less on edge about being alone with him. He called for his servants and ordered for something to be brought in so they both could relax. She understood even less when they returned with some weird thing that looked like a vase and candlestick mashed together. There were two hoses coming from it, he offered one to her and took the other for himself.

"Is this drugs," she asked. "I don't care what's legal here, I'm not doing drugs!"

"It's flavored tobacco," he answered angrily. "It's called shisha and it's an integral part of this country's culture. You should be honored that I've invited you to partake with me. I'll have you know that refusing is a grave offense, so if you resist..."

She surrendered but was still wary. He watched her intensely and wasn't satisfied until she took her first puff. He snickered when of course she ended up coughing.

"Like this." He demonstrated by taking a slow and gentle breath, held it for a bit, then exhaled just as smoothly.

She tried again and although the taste of ash didn't fill her mouth this time, she still didn't like it. The servants had also brought a bowl of dried fruit and a pot of tea. To avoid smoking as much as possible, she made sure to take her time savoring them.

"I saw you taking tea with Lambert," he said after another leisurely blow. "And with Falitna as well. Quite the interesting ensemble."

She knew he was trying to get at something but was unsure what.

"So is that you're decision? Are you going to crown him king and become a part of his harem?"

He cut to the chase and dared her to speak. He was ready to push and pull her with his words to get her where he wanted and what he wanted from her. Or so he thought, ignoring the beginning of the soft drumming in his head.

She burned her tongue on her tea in surprise but managed to answer with some shred of civility.

"No way! Don't talk nonsense."

"Is it? But you've spent so much time with him recently. And then there are the rumors..."

He was trying to make her angry. She didn't know why yet but she thought she knew him well enough. She pressed her tongue to her teeth, not even bothering to guess that he'd be after anything other then the bracelet.

"If this is about the bracelet, I haven't decided to give it to anyone yet. Actually... Ugh! You actually seem like the best candidate at the moment."

"But you don't want to give it to me. Is that right?"

Instead of angry as he would have rightfully been, he stared off at the ceiling with a wistful and almost pained expression.

"While you have some good ideas about the kingdom, your attitude is kind of..."

He cut her off by laughing loudly while she tried to find the words to acceptably say that he was a jerk.

"Is that all you find so off-putting? Even though I'm clearly he best, you refuse to give me the succession because I hurt your feelings? Your vanity is deeper than I thought."

She was sure a vein somewhere in her forehead had popped. Insufferable, she shouted in her mind. Insufferable times ten! She would rather give anyone else the bracelet now just so he could lose!

While it may have been her own feelings getting in the way, she would have rather been beheaded than have to hear it from him. But giving the bracelet to anyone but him, at least while she was angry, would only further prove his point. There could be no worse crossroad to be at than this.

"I pride myself on being smart," she said through gritted teeth.

'And having great self-control,' she thought as he continued laughing. 'Otherwise I'd strangle you!'

"So there's some other questions I want to ask you. Ivan told me that only the king's sons who already had status could inherit the throne. You were born in Meheret but you're a crown prince... I wanted to ask how'd you do it?"

Just sat up straight and for the first time since she'd met him, he gave her a genuinely fearsome stare.

"You're not allowed to ask that. No one is allowed to ask that."

She held her cup tight to her chest and scooted back into the sofa with a quick glance at the door just in case.

"Hmm... But since you want to know..."

He lay back on the couch with one arm draped over the arm rest. The cavalier look on his face was entirely him yet somehow, with a genuine smile and the way his eyes looked almost remorseful was completely out of character.

"What didn't I do is more like it..." he said to himself. "Barring Melchiorre, do you think his majesty would pay attention to any son who'd show no ambition? I guarantee you he would not. I... simply refused to be ignored."

He tried to talk in his usual false cheerful tone but the resentment with which he had said Melchiorre's name hadn't gone unnoticed. But was it Melchiorre he was really mad at?

"I started by studying everything I could get my own hands on," he said. "Every book, every document, every treatise. I attended every meeting whether they allowed me to or not. I inserted myself into every conversation, every argument, every sphere of influence in the palace. When there was any activity involving the crown princes, I counted myself among them and would not be left out!"

His mind flashed to his early days living in the palace. Most of his time was spent on catching up with his brothers. While they had grown up in the palace with private tutors, he had only received a public education and was left behind when it came to learning complicated math and literature. He studied until he fell asleep face first in his books.

While they leisurely rode horseback, he had never rode before. He had been bucked or had worse accidents so many times that he should've been thankful he was still alive, let alone able to walk away from them. No matter how many times he fell, he got up and was insistent to try again.

His elder brothers were competent in both swordsmanship and martial arts. He forced himself to learn until he could reach their level of mastery and ignored his need for anything else.

Every time someone tried to step in to tell him to slow down for his own safety, he saw at it as a personal offense that they would dare come between him and his goal. His answer was always the same, a firm 'no'.

"My father had no expectations of me and that was fine by me. But I would not stop until he recognized me as an heir. I would make him acknowledged me! No matter what I had to do or who got in my way-"

His rage subsided and he looked at her. To her, it sounded less like an inferiority complex and more like a vendetta, one that she did not want to come between. She tried to steer the conversation into a less dangerous topic and hoped stroking his ego would work.

"You've obviously worked very hard..."

"I have," he said as he stood up. "Very much so, now more than ever in fact."

He came to sit next to her and she felt every hair in her body stand on end. There were too many red flags. The room was smokey and her head hurt. Prince Jun's relaxed manner and the way he spoke so candidly was not usual. The look on his face was almost soft enough to be gentle. He sat down beside her with his body turned towards hers. She leaned back and kept her hands on her lap but close to her chest should she need to push him off. But he did nothing. Just sighed and smiled.

"So Ivan told you my sad story, did he? Let me guess, was it over pillow talk? I've heard quite a number of interesting stories about you as well."

"I can't believe that you'd just believe anything you hear," she replied angrily.

"But your teary-eyed breakup was seen, did you forget that?"

Her eyes widened in shock but she knew there was no use being mad about it. It was her own fault for causing the scene in public in the first place.

"So you've turned to Lambert to comfort you?"

"I said that's not it!"

While she yelled in anger, he struck quickly. His hands held her wrists and pinned them to her sides. He reserved himself at least somewhat, using just enough force to hold her but not enough to hurt her. She immediately froze when she looked him in the eyes. It was then she noticed how abnormally dark they were. There was something wrong about them... Something wrong with Jun.

"Jun, let go..." She spoke to him carefully, trying to get him to hear the concern in her voice.

"If you and Ivan are done," he continued vacantly, "and you're not with Lambert, than will I do?"

She repeated herself louder and started struggling against him, "Jun, let go!"

"Tch! What is it about them," he said as he tightened his grip. "Do you too prefer them over me!? Do you think I can't treat you just as well?!"

"I said let go!" She couldn't move her arms but she had thought of another idea. With a deep breath and a very sincere prayer, she laid back as far as she could and then slammed her head against his. The pain was enough to not only get him to let go but also apparently get him to use some colorful language.

While she most definitely saw stars and other shapes, she ignored it and immediately pushed him off and onto the floor. He called out to her but she kept going. First out of his room and then down the hall. She didn't stop until she reached a gust of fresh from air from nearby window. Breathing it in made some of the dizziness go away but Jun was not so lucky.

He held his throbbing head in his hand struggled to stand up. When he did, it was the spinning of the room and everything in it that finally made him realize. He took a seat on the couch and waited for the blackout he knew was coming. He couldn't believe it, how he had let his guard down and how his own plan had been used to make a fool out of him. He had been drugged. He didn't doubt that the opportunity would be used to turn her against him and give someone else the succession. He wanted to laugh at karma but knew it didn't exist.

After a period of blackness, he woke up on the couch with a cold pack on his forehead and Ivan standing over him. He closed his eyes again, more annoyed at having been woken by the intrusion than alarmed. He sprang to life when he remembered that for just how fast news traveled around the palace, rumors traveled even faster.

"What did you do?" he asked. Ivan's face was stone and his voice as deep as the grave. If he were angry, he wasn't showing it but neither was he hiding it.

Giving a simple answer would have been easiest. But of course, Jun wasn't one for taking the easy way.

"It doesn't matter," he replied.

"Jun, what did you do!?"

He rose his voice when he said his name. He wasn't calling his attention but using a signal, giving him a command. He had dropped the proper protocol and instead spoke to him on familiar and intimate terms with the severity of a parent parent scolding their child.

"Why are you asking as if you don't know," he snapped back. "I was a little rough with but so what?"

"So what- She is a person, Jun!"

"She is a means to an end," he shouted back.

Jun's supposed nonchalance at the situation set him off with vehemence. He knew, had to believe, that the prince wasn't so stupid, wasn't so monstrous as his behavior would lead him to believe.

"Then what you have achieved!? What has it gotten you? You are brilliant yet you undo the credence you've worked so hard for with stupid underhanded schemes! What I can't figure out is why. Why you would sink this low and what have I raised you to become-"

"You are not my father," Jun erupted, his voice shaking the room.

"You may have helped raise me but don't you dare," he fought to hold his fury as his voice started to break, "dare for a moment think you're him. I'm not the child you tutored anymore, Ivan, and I'm not afraid of you!"

Ivan crossed his arms and lifted his chin as he waited for some kind of proof to his claim. Proof that he knew wouldn't be coming. It was fight they didn't have to have and yet Jun persisted.

"None of what I do is any of your business! Even now, you don't care about me, you're only here for the girl! And why is it you care about her so much, I wonder?"

Meanwhile, just outside of the room, a figure stood frozen at the door. To open it and to interrupt their argument, or to keep listening to words he didn't want to hear?

"Alvah, what are you doing here?"

He turned around, startled by his eldest brother.

"Ah! I uhm, I wanted to talk Jun."

"That's not possible right now."

There were rare times when Melchiorre acted according to his position. It made it a foreboding thing to see him not wearing his usual smile or talking in his whimsical manner. It was odder still that austerity fit him so well.

"You know Jun's not usually like this," Alvah pleaded. "Please, just let talk to him!"

Melchiorre sighed deeply.

"It's too late for that now. Just go back to your room, Alvah."

"But-"

"I'm giving you an order. So please."

Alvah curled his lips and stared at him with a bitter expression, his fists balled by his side. He could no longer argue with him but he refused to let that be the end of it. He knew there was person that could clear Jun's name and stormed off to find her.

The moment Melchiorre entered, an icy air filled the room. Jun, who had been on a righteous tirade just moments before, silenced himself and took a step back. Ivan was none the happier to see him but resigned his anger to the intrusion. Melchiorre's involvement was not to be taken lightly.

"Ivan, could you leave us alone, please?"

"As you wish," he said, bowing the elder prince before leaving.

Jun stayed in his corner of the room and tried all he could to fend him off with a glare. Melchiorre gave him an emotionless smile in return. His eyes were caught by the hookah still on the table. He picked it up by the neck and looked it over. It was pretty, with its mosaic glass base and the intricate designs on its stem. The filigree here and there lent it the feel of a proper work of art. He hated it all the same.

"How many times," he began, "have I told you to quit this disgusting habit?"

He forcefully threw it on the ground and shattered it.

Jun recoiled at the sound. He swallowed hard but said not a word. There was a void that came with Melchiorre's current mood. It sucked the warmth from everything around him and raised a visceral feeling of unease. It was an absence of mercy that he knew not to step into it.

"I'm disappointed in you, Jun. This is not how we treat guests."

"I didn't do it consciously!" He held his hands in front of him, beseeching him for empathy as he finally tried to exonerate himself. "Melchiorre, the food, they drugged the food! Test it and you'll see!"

He held his up hand, his fingers together and his arm rigid as if he were blocking his words from reaching his ears.

"It's far too late for that now. You acted of your own free will all the same. Father has decided that he will speak with you first thing when he returns home. He will decide your punishment."

Jun nodded his head slowly and stepped back. He sank onto the couch and put his head in his hands. He stared off as his mind went through every possible outcome.

"And in the mean time?"

"You are to remain in your room until then. You are not allowed to leave under any circumstances."

He snorted as he heard his verdict, supposing it was Melchiorre's only kindness. It was a kindness he didn't want.

"Am I not good enough for the dungeons," he asked in feigned ignorance, "when you weren't?"