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“She is virgin,” Mars told him.
“So is mine.”
At that, Mars raised his brows. “Really?”
“As shared by her sister in an effort to humiliate her. She didn’t refute it. And she didn’t because it’s true.”
Mars watched him closely, remarking, “So True hasn’t had her.”
“He has not.”
They stared at each other.
“She pulls at you,” Mars whispered.
“We’ll just say there’s another Nadirii princess who earned a spanking tonight and I very much wish it was her who got it,” Cassius replied. “Though, after that, our ending would have been much different than Chu’s.”
Mars grinned.
But his grin died and another expression altogether came over his face.
“I am glad of it for you too.”
“The fates have not been kind to me.”
“Then it is your time.”
And yet another expression came over Cassius’s face when he noted, “You found your father murdered in this very room, Mars. The fates have not been kind to you either.”
“So it is my time as well.”
“We go forth against the Beast with these women,” Cassius said quietly.
“Our might will be enhanced, their magic. A witch does not fight a battle with a blade. We do. They’ll be nowhere near.”
“Says the man not marrying a warrior,” Cassius murmured.
“Her sister was simply disagreeable, as is her way, and you sent in Chu. She’ll eventually be humiliated by him. He will enjoy their play, but he will not form a bond with a woman like Serena. And she will be lost when he deems he’s done with her. This, after one conversation of spite. You will find a way to protect Elena. And you will find a way to make her accept your protection.”
“Perhaps the prophecy also gives us power to make miracles,” Cassius joked.
“Perhaps it shall.”
The men held each other’s gazes.
Mars broke it off to call for some whiskey.
23
The Dethroning
Prince True Axelsson
Diplomatic Table, First Floor, West Corridor, State Wing, Catrame Palace, Fire City
FIRENZE
“I think, at this unprecedented juncture, all the realms together, as we have spoken much about a great many things that will ally our lands in ways beyond the matrimonial, an important issue has not yet been addressed,” Gallienus began pompously. “This being the abolition throughout Triton of the bounden.”
By the bloody damned gods.
True shifted in his seat, his gaze moving instantly to Aramus after Gallienus’s proclamation.
Aramus was relaxed, his arm thrown over the back of his chair, his gaze steady on the Airenzian king, his expression bland.
“It is, of course, unconscionable,” Gallienus went on.
And the king was, of course, correct.
But that wasn’t the way to go about bloody doing something about it.
True turned his attention to Cassius, seated at corners at the table from his father.
The Airenzian prince was sunk so deeply in his chair, his head rested on the back of it, his hands were one on top of the other on his stomach, and he appeared to be napping.
Cassius Laird was not his favorite person at that moment.
And this had suddenly turned into a volatile meeting.
But seeing him thus, True fought smiling.
“All the realms, save Mar-el, outlawed the binding two centuries ago,” Gallienus carried on.
True looked to his father, who was nervously adjusting the front of his shirt into his waistcoat.
This could be explosive.
But there was no help there.
He shifted his gaze to Mars at the head of the table.
The dark king was staring in a brooding way at his fingers, which were drumming a beat on the table.
Although war could very easily break out at that moment, True (somewhat) understood Mars’s preoccupation.
Silence was being prepared for her piercing ceremony which would commence in an hour’s time.
True had always admired Mars as warrior. And from what True had heard as Mars took up the mantle of his father’s civilian advancements and the modernization of his realm, True admired that as well.
He still did not think Mars would make a good husband for Silence.
It would take more than a generation to wring the barbarous out of the barbarian.
He was being proved wrong.
Apparently, women did not attend a boy’s piercing ceremony.
Men did not attend a girl’s.
Silence was no girl.
But traditions were to be held.
Mars was brooding because he was worried about her. Silence was about to endure a ritual no one (outside the lobes of ears, piercings Silence did not have) did in her world, and it included pain.
When True visited Silence that morning, she didn’t seem resigned to it. Nor did she seem to fear it. Perhaps she was not eager, though she was curious, as she had an active mind and was wont to be.
She was also keen to do something for Mars.
They seemed a good match.
Surprising.
But gratifying.
And this was where Ophelia was, and why she was not at that diplomatic table.
She would attend the ceremony.
But as she would just be an observer, and it didn’t start for some time, there wasn’t actually an excuse not to be there at the present time.
Thus True had the sense that something else was keeping her away.
“Well, is no one going to say anything?” Gallienus demanded with narrowed gaze at True’s father.
True felt his jaw tighten.
He could not believe this.
Gallienus had negotiated something with Wilmer.
And his father had not shared with True what they’d negotiated.
This being a direct confrontation with a mighty king that was bound to bring discord.
It was just, without Carrington whispering in his ear, and in the face of uncertainty since no one else had backed Gallienus’s declaration, his father was holding silent.
A gauntlet had been thrown on a table meant to bring forth diplomacy.
And it was not shocking that Gallienus had thrown it.
What was unknown was what would come of it.
And True did not have a good feeling about it.
“You do know, Aramus’s great-great grandfather enacted the Those in Service Act,” Cassius said to the ceiling, his eyes still closed.
“‘Those in Service,’” Gallienus scoffed. “Is that a jest?”
“No,” Cassius replied, opened his eyes and turned his head on the back of his seat to look at his father at the foot of the table. “The Act is relatively all encompassing.”
“Binding is binding,” Gallienus bit.
“For instance,” Cassius went on like his father had not spoken. “You cannot take your hand, nor fist, whip, paddle, crop, or other to your bounden in anger, in punishment, in retribution, or for any reason. If you do, the punishment served will be jailtime for the proprietor.”
“And I’ll repeat, binding is binding,” Gallienus decreed.
“You also can’t force your intentions on a bounden, be you male or female, your bounden male or female. If you do, your jailtime is much increased. And if it’s a child, you face a noose,” Cassius shared.
True looked to Aramus.
He was studying the fingernails of the hand attached to the arm hooked on the back of his chair.
Cassius turned his gaze again to the ceiling and closed his eyes. “And if a bounden serves his or her proprietor for fifteen years, they can petition for liberty, which must be granted. They then are given any belongings they’ve collected, a new set of clothes, boots, a steed and a bag of silver. Or they could petition to stay in service as a paid servant. And a proprietor cannot sell or tra
de a bounden. If they cannot keep their bounden, they must free him or her.”
“Perhaps we should ask a Mar-el bounden here, son, and he can lay testimony to his fair treatment,” Gallienus suggested acidly.
Cassius turned his head again and the air in the room changed when he whispered, “I note you said ‘he.’”
Aramus chuckled.
Gallienus moved with agitation in his seat.
Cassius continued speaking.
“The Act also includes strict edicts on the provision of food, medicine, garments and housing. Bounden can marry at will. Spouses cannot be separated for any reason, not of their own choosing. And any child they produce is born free.”
“So it’s all right with you that any ship from the Northlands, the Southlands, The Mystics or Triton can sail through Mar-el’s waters, be boarded and innocent people pressed into service for fifteen years?” Gallienus demanded.
His emphasis on the word “Mar-el’s” was telling.
What peeved Gallienus was that the waters belonged to Mar-el.
He didn’t give a damn about the bounden.
He wanted the seas.
However, how he thought he’d get them, or access to them, by possibly angering the man who ruled them, True couldn’t begin to imagine.
“It is not unknown the perils of the sea, Father.”
“How about this?” Aramus took his arm from his seatback and turned fully to the table. “The Airenzian give women leave to own property. To press charges and have them justly tried if anyone causes her physical harm, rapes or violates her in any way. And all are freed to the right of peaceable assembly should they wish to gather together to darn their husband’s socks, organize to petition the king for better royal patronage of orphanages or say, any reason. In return, I will grant freedom to all bounden of Mar-el after five years of service.”
“In a time where women were allowed assembly, they used that right to plot and connive and thousands of men died,” Gallienus reminded the Mar-el king.
“They did indeed,” Aramus agreed.
“Further, our women are not bounden,” Gallienus spat.
“Are they not?” Aramus queried.
“An Airenzian woman does not have to marry her husband. She does not have to take his coin in return for cooking his food and cleaning his hearth,” Gallienus retorted. “She chooses to and it is our custom that a man rules his house as he sees fit.”
“Does she? Choose to, that is,” Aramus asked.
“Of course!” Gallienus returned.
“I would not choose to clean anyone’s hearth,” Aramus noted. “I would do this only if I had to do it in order to eat.”
“She has choices,” Gallienus sniffed.
“Yes,” Aramus agreed. “It’s my understanding girls in your realm cease education at age twelve. They do this by royal edict. Hence, they are not allowed to be doctor, midwife, lawyer, teacher or merchant. So they do have choices. Service. Or whore, prostitute, doxie. Or wife, which is much the same depending on if her husband has some coin, much coin, or is a sailor.”
Cassius and Mars both chuckled.
True clenched his teeth.
“You find this amusing, my son?” Gallienus asked.
Cassius, who had his eyes closed and was facing the ceiling again, turned his head his father’s way. “Which part? You demanding the Mar-el free all bounden? Or Aramus defining the different types of working girls based on the men who use them?”
“Our women, indeed all our people, are paid if they serve,” Gallienus declared.
“Barely,” Cassius muttered. “Especially the women.”
“And I’ll point out, none of my wives are whores,” Gallienus spat.
At that, Cassius straightened in his chair.
Bloody hell.
Cassius fully engaged in this conversation did not bode well.
“All of your wives are whores,” he replied.
True was correct.
This did not bode well.
“You say this of your mother?” Gallienus demanded.
“My mother is dead. And I’m thankful for that for her. Entirely,” Cassius returned.
Gallienus’s face was getting red.
True looked again to his father.
His father was studying his lap.
There was nothing for it.
“Men,” True said.
Everyone looked to him.
He looked to King Aramus.
“It was not presented well, but it is something to reflect on. No lands on this earth, since all in the Southlands stopped practicing it decades ago, except the Mar-el, carry on with enforced servitude. Your grandfather did a brave and noble thing. It was also wise. Change for the good, but not so much it would throw a nation into dissension. Perhaps the time is nigh for another change.”
Aramus held his eyes a moment before he slowly dipped his chin.
True turned his attention to the rest of the table and continued speaking.
“However, there is much to concern ourselves with in the now. Changing ways of life and incurring strife inside our realms when the Beast awakes is not wise.”
He looked to King Gallienus.
“But in the face of a danger that could destroy all realms, we all should take this opportunity in the calm before a storm to reflect on how we can better the futures of our people once we traverse that storm. All of our people. We can take the threat of the Beast as a warning. And we can take our current circumstances as more than mere coincidence. Instead as a lesson. We’re in a realm that has faced decades of change. And with it, decades of prosperity.”
“And Mars also faced three coup attempts in his first two years on the throne. And his sire was assassinated,” Gallienus retorted. “I do not wish to face that.” He tossed his hand to Cassius and carried on, “Or my son to do the same.”
“It is your kingdom, Gallienus, it’s not for me to say,” True murmured.
“No, it is not,” Gallienus agreed.
“Though, the last time one of your line, when your subjects were restless, who didn’t listen to wise counsel or consider changes that were sweeping other lands, saw thirteen thousand of your males having their throats slit,” True finished.
“Yes! Murdered in cold blood!” Gallienus cried.
“I could not imagine,” True shook his head, “given no choice but to take a life in order to make my own livable.”
Once he said this, he felt the increased focus from Aramus, Mars and Cassius.
“Son,” his father joined the conversation by speaking one syllable tremulously.
“You speak treason to Airen,” Gallienus warned.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Father. He just speaks truth,” Cassius sighed.
Gallienus glared at his son. “So can I take that as you making Airen face decades of change when you take my throne?”
“Unquestionably.”
Bloody hell.
“What?” Gallienus whispered.
“Un…question…ably,” Cassius repeated a lot more slowly.
Mars and Aramus chuckled.
But True did not feel himself wishing to do the same.
This was good, of course.
Ideally.
However, if it happened, Airen would descend into civil war and who knew which side would win.
The gentry of Airen had standing armies of their own. Gallienus favored them not only for their high-born breeding and their chests, which he could tax, but also because, if he angered them, they could ally and depose him.
By force.
Which meant they could ally and wage war against Cassius if he made changes before these armies were disbanded, something Gallienus or one of his forebears should have done years ago. Weakening their gentry. But none of them had had the courage to do it.
In other words, one side had money, men and the power of the throne.
The other had a tactical genius as a general commanding a royal army that might be in disarray as the soldiers in it
took sides.
“You know, my sister has a son,” Gallienus threatened Cassius.
“Please, I beg you, I’ll give you bags of gold, pass the crown to my cousin,” Cassius replied. “He is weakly and can barely ride a horse, can’t leave his hearth without catching a chill that sets him abed for three weeks, and eschews meat as it’s unsavory to him that beasts are hunted. I think he’d make the perfect king.”
Gallienus stood, announcing, “I believe diplomatic relations have just broken down.”
“That’s impossible, considering all nations for the most part agree, it’s just you who’s being stubborn because those men you protect have wealth and militias, wealth you tax and armies you fear, and you don’t wish to make them angry. And further, if your wives had rights, it would be a spectacle, the king of the realm brought up on charges,” Cassius stated drolly.
“I see my son feels his power growing with his alliance with a Nadirii,” Gallienus said softly. “Careful, Cassius. The weight you carry at this table will not translate in Sky Bay.”
“Why don’t we test that when we get home, me riding into Sky Bay with a Nadirii at my side, the might of their warriors trooping at my back, indication that the sons of the poor will no longer fall to bloodlust and the whims of the wealthy when we repeatedly clash with a warrior nation? What do you say, Father? Shall we?” Cassius invited.
“You do not want to cross me,” Gallienus returned, and Cassius’s eyebrows shot up.
“Do you even know me?” he asked.
True bit his lip and lifted his eyes to the ceiling.
Mars and Aramus did not bite their lips.
Their amusement was auditory.
“I fear I won’t be able to attend your nuptials, King Mars, for I’ll soon be away to Airen,” Gallienus announced.
“If you think to leave,” Cassius started quietly, “and go home to amass support against the crown prince, I swear to all the gods, Father, I’ll plan one last war. To usurp your throne.”
“You never wanted it,” Gallienus retorted.
“I’ve since received a promise from my magnificently comely bride to provide an heir. Thus I’ve changed my mind,” Cassius fired back. “You will stay here, and we’ll discuss you making me regent.”