III

o0o

One might have thought that Kuojin would wake up disoriented to such a radical change in surroundings, but as someone who hadn't slept in his own bed for over a year, the change in furnishings and otherwise was something he'd barely come to notice. However, he did marvel at the sheer opulence and luxury evinced in the royal apartments of the Oronac family. Solan, whose room Kuojin now occupied, had a down mattress that was so soft that Kuojin had ended up sleeping on several comforters spread out on the floor.

It was still early in the morning, so Kuojin decided to better acquaint himself with his current residence.

Solan's chests overflowed with garb enough for ten men. The former Prince's lack of appreciation for what he had was made clear through the laundry casually discarded for minor flaws and accidents. Kuojin recalled a time where Solan had angrily tossed a shirt after a sparring match with another nobleman for a tear it had in its sleeve. Kuojin had taken the shirt, presumably to dispose of it as the Prince had demanded, but he'd taken to his mother who was able to transform the princely garment to practical smallclothes.

Such a waste, Kuojin mused. Though vanity was seen as a sin of the fairer sex, men certainly were not immune to it. He made a cursory perusal of Solan's personal trappings, choosing a few sensible items for himself.

There was a light knock, and Kuojin invited his manservant into the chamber. The older man glanced around at the mess Kuojin had made of his room, piles of the former Prince's garments here and there.

"If you see something you like, take it," Kuojin said negligently, waving his hand. "There is more here than I need, I would be remiss to not allow others to make use of them." Though in Onshae Thamo, just as anywhere else, wealthy people had more than their poorer counterparts, excess was still frowned upon. If one was assured of having no further use for an item, it was considered gracious to pass it to someone else who would make use or enjoyment of it.

"I thank you, sir. Would you like your tea?" the underling asked, acknowledging the offering, but as was common among the Thamonese, he did not make an overt display of his excitement at the opportunity.

"Yes. Are there any messages?" he asked. Had there been an emergency, he would have been roused out of sleep, but he did not doubt that there would be requests to see him, and business to handle. He listened with half an ear as he moved over to the window, looking outside. When he'd been nothing more than the mixed-race child of a servant, he'd never imagined that he would ever be able to experience this sort of view, especially as a ruler, not a barely-tolerated citizen.

A pot of hot water was delivered to him on a tray that held several other items. He pulled a packet out of his bag, adding his personal blend of tea to the water before letting it steep.

As he waited for his tea to be ready, his mind wandered to Sialeni, as it had often done throughout the night. He almost couldn't believe that he was actually here, and with as much power as he had under his command. Never, during his old life here, had he ever had such lofty aspirations.

o0o

Eight Years Ago – Summer 812 AP (After Peregrination)

Having even just a Touch of Fire magic made life somewhat easier for the holder of said gift, and others as well. With at least a Touch, a Firemage could create a spark to light a fire or torch, saving the considerable effort it sometimes took to light a fire. Firemages also seemed to not experience heat as acutely as others, which made high summer easier on them than others. In winter, a Firemage could coax a fire to produce more heat, which came especially handy to those who lived in the colder northern regions of Araithale.

Lukas snapped his fingers, seeing a spark fly. A fire started in the corner of a junction between logs where he'd tucked some kindling. Once the flame was firmly entrenched in that small area, Lukas gave a mental push, encouraging the flames to spread and intensify. He had only a touch of magic, so he was unable to perform spectacular feats, but his talent had its definite uses. The flames leaped from log to log, and in what felt like no time to him, the fire was burning steadily.

His mind wandered to a subject that'd given him no end of grief the last few days. The owner of the kilns in town stated that he sought several assistants, and should any of them show promise, he would officially apprentice him and learn the useful art of manufacturing eating ware, as well as pots and containers that could be used for food or medicine. Lukas had admitted himself to the pool of candidates that the employer would choose from.

Despite him answering the questions and performing the tasks that were asked of him, and the fact that he had Fire magic – a magic that was of considerable use in the fine art of managing sources of heat – he was aware of the old man's disapproval. The old man was tactful enough to not say so out loud, but Lukas knew that his mixed heritage had doomed his venture from the start. Some of the other boys had sneered at him, and a couple had even whispered insults to him under their breath.

Unable to retaliate, he had taken their barbs in stolid silence, turning his focus to the boys ahead of him who were being tested, and trying his best to deduce the answers that were being sought after, and doing his best to fulfill these requirements when his turn had come. As the old man was about to end the interview, Lukas brought up his Fire magic. This caught the old man's interest – none of the other boys had such a gift.

Nonetheless, he chose three boys, and Lukas had not been among them. Not for the first time in his life, Lukas hated the Thamonese part of his heritage. An unknown father had impregnated his mother, leaving her to raise a mixed-race bastard child on her own. He was lower than even the poorest whore-sons in the village. Because of the immutable stamp of his heritage that was apparent to anyone who looked at him, he'd been judged harshly ever since the day he came into this world. He even had to lie about his father's heritage, although he understood why. Much as the Hgngians were looked down at, the Thamonese were the scum of the earth in the eyes of Araithale.

He knew that when he was older, he would leave this place forever. Where, he was not quite sure. Would the people of Onshae Thamo accept him any better than the Araithalens did? He had a dream, of finding his father's family and being welcomed by them. Such was an impossibility, though. Mother's parents were both dead, and she might as well have been a bastard herself. With no obermon to provide for them, the life of mother and son was indeed more difficult than many.

A low huff burst from his chest. He knew that he would have been a good assistant, and fairly certain that he might have become an apprentice if he had been given a fair chance to develop his skills. At the age of fourteen, he was no longer a little boy and knew that eventually, he would have to find a way to support himself. Not that he wanted to shirk the responsibility, of course, but how could he take that responsibility if others wouldn't let him? How well would he fare in the southern kingdom of Viruch, or Araithale and Viruch's shared neighbor, Dakul?

Lukas startled a bit as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see his mother, Amyra. With green eyes like his own, and dark blonde hair, Amyra was an attractive woman despite her hard living. She would have a better life if not for him, he mused. Without a bastard child to take care of, Amyra might have been married to one of the men in town, a younger son of a peasant family or possibly a widower who would overlook her murky background. But no respectable Araithalen man wanted to take serious responsibility for a half-Hgngian boy, much less adopt him as a son.

"Go get more water, please," Amyra said. Lukas nodded and rose to his feet before getting two buckets and making his way to the riverbank. He made several trips between the river and the broze pot that sat over the fire, and paused at the shore as he stared at the rushing water, a recent summer storm having caused the river to rise in height and speed. If he could move as swiftly as the water, he could go anywhere, he pondered.

A shout from across the river drew his attention...

o0o

Kuojin pulled his mind back to the present as he reached for the pitcher, pouring himself a cup of tea. Letting the hot, faintly bitter liquid slide down his throat, he pondered this day's schedule of events. There would be the morning sup, and then a few hours in Court, to pass edicts as well as meet representatives from more noble families. Then a nuncheon, and more meetings. There was plenty of work to be done before he would leave his aunt's side and return to the Islands.

After pondering his attire for a few moments, Kuojin selected a deep red undershirt with a light black robe over it, the Dark Hand on the left side of the front. Daggers hidden in his boots and his sword strapped at his side, the prince of the Onshae Thamo Empire stepped out of his room. Servants, both Araithalen and Thamonese, bustled through the hallways on various errands.

The banquet hall was much quieter than the evening before. After making the proper greetings to his aunt, he took his seat, the same he'd been in the night before.

Tea and coffee were being served. After a moment of indecision, he took the coffee. He'd rarely had this since he'd come to Onshae Thamo, and the scent of it had always comforted him. Azami raised an eyebrow as she saw his choice. "I thought your time with us would have destroyed any Araithalen influence on you," she joked. Unlike him, the rest of the Thamonese had chosen tea, with the few Araithalens there choosing coffee. He could understand the distaste for coffee, however, after having spent the last half-dozen years sampling the various teas of Onshae Thamo, where even the bitterest concoction lacked the burnt-earth taste of the ground beans that were harvested in the south and eastern regions of Araithale.

"Do you never tire of tea?" Kuojin shot back with a faint smile.

"Tea is one of the cornerstones for a civilized society," Azami replied as she lifted her cup, her tone light. Despite her preference, Azami was not about to make coffee illegal. One of the things that lent to the stability of the Onshae Thamo Empire was its focus on more important laws, and leaving it to its newly-gained – or conquered – citizens to decide what they wanted to eat or wear, for the most part. Less disruption of the daily minutiae that occupied their lives meant easier assimilation into the Empire.

"Looking at our society, I am hardly one to argue the point," he teased back before his attention was riveted by a flash of green. Sialeni entered the room, shoulders held back, hands folded neatly in front of her, just like last night. Technically, she was no longer a princess, but she exuded the aura of one, nonetheless. She was clad in an emerald-green dress with silver threading along the hems, the fabric cinched loosely around her waist with a matching girdle.

He felt his heart skip a beat as he took in the sight of her, and beckoned to her to sit with him as she had last night. Gracefully, she picked up her skirt to climb the few steps and took her place beside him.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked after greeting her. She paused for a moment before nodding. Deciding to not press the matter further, he changed the subject.

"Azami and I will be spending a fair amount of time in Court over the next few days, as well as meetings, and going over the laws and changing them as necessary."

"Very well," was all she had to say. She maintained her politeness and respect, and Kuojin did not doubt that she would behave with dignity here and in Onshae Thamo, but again, there was that wall that she had firmly set between herself and others. Granted, she had much to think about and process. He knew that when he had learned of his true origin and met his father, it'd taken him several days to be ready to begin to acclimate to Thamonese life and his new station.

Instead of trying to elicit further speech from her, he let her eat in peace, turning his attention to his aunt and their advisers and listening to their conversation. He did not miss her lack of appetite, noting that she had an egg and several slices of crispy fried apples, pushing the food around on the plate. She did deign to sample the tea, and he noted her interest as she took the first sip, before she finished two cups of it through the meal.

"I need to take a walk and get some fresh air before I am stuck in Court. Would you walk with me?" he asked, offering his hand. She took it, and he led her down the steps, looking forward to being with her away from so many pairs of eyes.

"A moment, my prince," he heard Lord Starsmore behind him. The lord rose from his seat when the Prince stopped, and approached him, bowing his head.

"If I might speak with Lady Sialeni for a few minutes, my lord?" the newly-appointed Governor of the Southern Province asked.

"I suppose I might spare few minutes," Kuojin stated lightly. Sialeni shot him a mildly surprised glance before Lord Starsmore led her to the outside area, well within view of the Prince and his aunt, but out of earshot if one spoke in a soft tone.

o0o

What was it Lord Starsmore could want, Sialeni mused as she looked up at the older man.

"Titles in the Onshae Thamo are as important as they are here. I have a piece of advice for you, and I do not give it lightly. Create a title for yourself. Give yourself a new surname. I sincerely doubt 'Lady Oronac' will endear you to the Imperial Court. If you like, you can take the name Starsmore, because after all, we are related, however distantly."

She gazed at him contemplatively, wondering if he might have some ulterior motive in tying himself with her. She clearly held Kuojin's favor, but how much could other people use that for their advantage?

"I made that suggestion because my name is regarded well by the Prince's parents and others in the Imperial Court. Knowing you are related to me, and granted my name, should give you a level of ease in dealings. Of course, if you like, I suppose you could give yourself the surname of any of the houses from the maternal lines," he said with a shrug. "Though I doubt House Fiori would be too pleased to have you use their name, with your relationship with the Prince," he said with a small smile. House Fiori was the house that Selestia had been born into, and its daughters were generally comely, and much-sought after by other powerful houses. The former queen was not the first daughter to have been given to House Oronac, and the Lords of the Green had received their share of Oronac princesses in exchange, furthering the prestige of their bloodline and power. "Or the fact that because of the Onshae Thamo, their fortunes have been greatly reduced."

"And yours increased," Sialeni deduced. "What happened?"

"I have just been named the Warden of the Southern Province."

"The entire Province?" Sialeni asked. The Southern Province referred to a significant part of Araithale, taking up nearly a third of the country. The upper two-thirds of this province was lush and green, and much of it was – until now – under the control of a long line of Fiori lords.

He nodded in response. His governorship effectively made him one of the most powerful men in Araithale, or at least what used to be Araithale.

"At least, what is left of it, the Viruchids were granted the Gray Reaches and the land south of it, in return for their alliance. I do not begrudge them, and am content with what is left."

"The Tekura apparently are not stingy with their rewards," Sialeni observed.

"That is one of the reasons why they now rule," Starsmore replied in a placid tone. "But I regret that it seems that someone else seeks your time." He gave her a quick bow before he retreated, Kuojin quickly taking bis place.

"What is this about Lord Starsmore being the Warden of the Southern Province?"

"Should I tell you who the rest of our governors will be? Or do you have any other questions to ask me?" he asked, a faint smile on his lips as he regarded her, the warm light of morning making his eyes as vibrant as emeralds.

"You said I would be able to become a citizen instead of a prisoner. Which I am of course grateful for..." She paused. "I am no longer a princess and do not have illusions of ever being one again. Lord Starsmore suggested that I take his name as my surname, and I shall take his advice."

"That is a wise decision. Shall we go out to the garden, then?" he asked. She nodded and allowed him to take her hand as they walked side by side down the steps to a place that she had usually found pleasing, and a welcome refuge from the world, unless someone followed her into the garden, like her brother, or a would-be suitor.

However, Kuojin was hardly a poor companion. They did not speak for several minutes, and simply took their time to admire the garden. If one thing could be said about Selestia, she had exquisite taste, and the gardens were one of the assets of the palace, providing both flower and fruit. The centerpiece of the royal gardens when they were in season was the former Queen's prized roses, collected from various lines, including some that House Fiori had specially cultivated.

"Azami loves roses. Whatever else she decides to do to this garden, your mother can be assured of the security of these roses," Kuojin assured her. That reminded her of another subject of concern. Perhaps, after some time in the dungeon, her father was seeing things more clearly. Despite her often fractious relationship with her family, she hoped that she might be able to talk to them.

"Speaking of my mother… when can I see my family?"

"Whenever you wish."

She paused, staring at him a moment in surprise. "Really?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. Regardless of everything that has happened, they're still your family. I would suggest waiting another day, or two. Your father tried to give the guards a hard time when they delivered breakfast."

"I suppose their night's sleep was no good."

"Your father is a stubborn one. He clings to his perceived divinity."

"You'd think that if you believed your god would test you, you would act with more grace," came her snarky reply. He gave out a small snort of amusement.

"The years have not been just kind to you. I always thought you were so elegant before," Kuojin said in a tone softer than she had expected. "but the years have aged you like a fine wine."

She'd been given so many flatteries by her suitors that she thought she'd heard them all – the crass, the lewd, the condescending, the artificially clever, the superficial, that it was refreshing to hear something that came across as genuinely admiring words of praise.

"I think you have been blessed more than I," Sialeni demurred. She studied him in the morning sunlight. His ebony hair was glossy and tied back loosely, and the red of the shirt added a touch of fierce regality. She was not sure if the effect was intended, but he wore the colors associated with Fire and Black magic. Some mages tended to favor a set of colors close to their elements, others didn't follow this minor convention.

He nodded slowly. "You know life was not always easy for me. My trials have been compensated for many times over. But I am certain that fate has intended for us to share in at least some good fortune."

"You honor me, Prince." His gaze was so intent that she lowered her eyes, feeling her heartbeat flutter a bit. She felt something touch her chin, coaxing her to turn her face upward. It was his finger.

"There's no need to be so shy, at least around me." He smiled at her. "Remember when we first met?"

o0o

Eight Years Ago

The annual summer retreat was something Sialeni had looked forward to for as long as she could remember. The family would travel north to their summer residence at Golden Lake. The mountains offered them cool air, and here, rules were more relaxed – at least, slightly.

She'd managed to slip away from her governess when the old woman was taking a nap and was anxious to escape before Estelleta could tattle on her. She was able to beg several fruit tarts from the kitchen, carrying the precious cloth-wrapped bundle from one hand in a tied-up cloth. Deftly, she darted through the back hall of the manor and burst outside, darting to the trees.

Once she was secure in the cover of the woods, she slowed down, catching her breath, cheeks warm from the exertion and the warmth of the day. She would romp through the woods at her leisure, and have her fruit tarts, and there was a river, where she could get water from, or perhaps even have a swim.

Coming to a bend in the river that formed a small pool, she paused and sat down on a rock, seeing how high the water was. She closed her eyes, feeling its flow. As someone blessed with Water magic, she could feel the rhythm of her element. Untying the bundle, she took the first tart out, looking forward to the taste of the sugared blueberries ensconced within the buttery crust.

"Hey!" she heard someone call out. Her heart dropped to her stomach as she recognized her brother's voice, and quickly tucked the tart under a flap of cloth before rising to her feet, dusting off her skirt.

Solan lumbered out of the shadows like a bear. Puberty had been kind to him thus far and at nearly seventeen, he was already as tall as Father and well-built on top of that. It certainly did nothing for his kindness towards others, though...

"Hello," Sialeni offered neutrally. Hopefully, she could just humor him a bit and he'd get bored and leave.

"I saw what you got. Give it to me."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "There are more in the kitchen, they'll give you a whole basketful!" Sialeni pointed out, quickly scooping up her bundle, prepared to make a run for it.

"I'm hungry now," Solan demanded.

"Well, you can't have mine!" she spat out, mentally debating whether running left or right would be better. Her brother quickly advanced upon her, and she made a frantic dash to the right. His arm shot out and grabbed the sleeve of her dress, yanking her back to him.

"I am the Crown Prince, next in line for the Heavenly Throne, and I demand obedience!"

"Go to hell!" Sialeni shot back as she tried to jerk free of him.

"When you are old enough, I will see you married off to a drooling old man!"

Refusing to be cowed, she flashed cool eyes upon him. "Then I will hire a nursemaid, and be glad that I am free of him and you," came her retort.

"Hn! Then I will marry you off to a Thamonese man. They are frustrated all the time and seek depraved ways to attain pleasure since their penises are so small. And I will have no pity for you, sister dearest." He grinned down, and she hit him in the side of his face with her bundle, startling him enough to lessen his grip on her. She spun away.

"You seem to know a lot about Thamonese men..." Sialeni taunted. "Hmm, have you taken one to bed? And enjoyed his depraved appetites? Or are you the one with a small manhood?"

Solan's expression transformed from petty amusement to unmasked fury. His eyebrows furrowed, and his lips twisted to give the normally sunny-looking youth a dark countenance. Barely when the young Princess understood what was happening, her brother had lowered his upper body and rammed into her, knocking her backward and causing her to tumble into the pool.

With the fast-moving water, Sialeni was pulled downstream, and her sleeves and skirt clinging to her limbs, she was finding it difficult to swim. She gasped and flailed as she tried to orient herself and make her way to the riverbank, the churning water spinning her around. Suddenly, there was another body up against hers, an arm securely wrapped around her middle as a thin but strong chest flexed against her back.

o0o

"How fortunate we were that day," Sialeni said dryly as her gaze met Kuojin's own.

"How much more fortunate we are today," Kuojin countered gently. He turned to see an adviser approaching them.

"I regret that our excursion has come to an end." Kuojin had such an expression of sorrow on his face as he stared at her as if it would crush his heart to leave the garden. She was aware of this streak of melodrama, remembering it well from back then, and had to fight a grin.

"Fear not, my Prince. There is tomorrow, and the next day and so on as long as the sun rises."

"There is also tonight, and all the nights for as long as the moon rises." His expression had changed to one of delight.

"It's nice to see you have not lost your flair for poetry," Sialeni commented as they turned around to go inside.

"It's also nice to see that you haven't abandoned your appreciation of my skills."

Sialeni did not miss how much more openly confident he was as a Prince. He didn't have to keep his eyes averted to the floor in the presence of the nobles or the royal family, or silently accept the subtle, and not-so-subtle insults and slurs that had come his way. She was certain that he had not forgotten his past despite the calm confidence that he exuded. She was well aware of how some things never changed.

At least there were some changes she could accept and even embrace, she told herself as she and Kuojin entered the audience chamber.