Warrior King: Warriors - Book 1, page 27
“I’ll allow this formality just once, brother. I am your emperor now, true, but I’m your brother first. We’ll need to dispatch messengers to all the kingdoms, Mother, and my consort, telling the news.”
“I need to get out to the men.” Draylon stood, sheathing his sword. “The time of my return is nearing, and if I don’t make an appearance, they’ve been instructed to tear the walls down stone by stone.”
“Then, by all means, you are dismissed, though I hope to meet with you, your consort, and your senior officers soon.” Avestan stepped over to the desk. “Father let too many matters go lately, focused solely on conquest. I’ve my work cut out for me. He was my father and emperor but hasn’t been a good leader for many years. I will endeavor to do better. And Draylon? Yarif?”
Draylon and Yarif answered together, “Yes.”
“I expect you to tell me if I’m doing wrong.”
Draylon replied, “I’d offer no less.” The next few weeks would be chaos with the old emperor's funeral and a coronation. Avestan seemed stoic now, but he had to still be reeling inside.
Avestan turned toward Yarif. “I think it would be best if you returned how you came. Better that none know you were even here.”
“I agree.” Yarif smiled at Draylon, redonned his cloak, and slipped through the door. “Draylon, I’ll rejoin your men and wait for your return.”
Draylon clasped Avestan in one more embrace before fleeing the room, carefully keeping his eyes averted from the corpse on the floor.
Emperor Soland was dead.
Long live Emperor Avestan.
Draylon met Vihaan in the hallway with May, both approaching the door. “Did the guards tell you what you’d find?”
May nodded. “Don’t you worry. I’ve been hiding bodies since before you were born. And no one will ever see that dagger again.” On that cryptic note, she strolled down the hallway to the office.
“The guards turned our decoys away at the gates. They returned safely to the troops.” Vihaan fell into step with Draylon. “I take it we won’t be attacking?”
“No. The emperor wants to sit down with the commanders. Are you aware that Delletina is now represented among our ranks outside?”
“No! I had no idea. So, are they joining the empire?” Vihaan hurried to catch up to Draylon’s longer strides.
“Possibly.”
“When you say emperor…”
Draylon paused, turning to face Vihaan. “Avestan Aravaid.” He gave Vihaan a warning look. “You must swear to me that no one will ever hear the truth of today from your lips.”
“You have my word.” Vihaan saluted with his arm across his body.
“As one of his first acts in the lofty position, I’ll suggest he send your armies home.”
Vihaan grinned. “Sounds good to me. Let’s go call off the hounds, shall we?”
“Not so fast. I want him to keep you as an advisor.” With Draylon in Renvalle, Avestan would need someone he could trust in the military.
Vihaan mock pouted. “And here I thought we were friends.”
As he grew closer to the front lines on his borrowed horse, Draylon searched out… there! Bypassing questions, he dismounted and wrapped Yarif in an embrace. “It’s over.”
“Really? What about the children?”
Vihaan bowed. “Once things settle, May will send someone to retrieve them from Countess Exa, Your Majesty.”
Yarif’s relief was palpable, worry lines easing from his features. “The twins have been well taken care of, though they might not want to return.”
“Why not?” Vihaan lifted a bemused brow.
“Exa raises horses and dogs. The twins love both.”
“Then we’ll have to get them horses and dogs,” Draylon supplied. “But all that can wait. Right now, I just want to revel in the horror being over. Later, we’ll meet with Aves… excuse me, Emperor Avestan.”
Yarif winced. “Is this going to be a good thing?”
“A very good thing. I trust my brother with my life. Now, come. Let’s go home.”
Emperor Avestan sat at the head of the long table, Yarif to his right, Draylon to his left. Two trusted advisors and a bandaged Rufe rounded out the Renvalle contingent, as indeed, he’d defied orders to lead the Delletinian soldiers. Draylon’s handpicked guards stood against the walls.
Draylon expected no less, though as commander, he’d have to have strong words for his subordinate soon.
Eyeing Avestan from across an expanse of polished oak sat King Niam of Delletina, who cast interested glances at Rufe while trying to appear not to. Draylon knew the feeling quite well, having often been unable to keep from watching Yarif. The remaining commanders filled out the room.
Avestan nodded when Draylon stood and began to speak. “The situation we’re here to discuss is to be kept in the deepest confidence, though you know most of it. Emperor Soland Aravaid conspired with Commander Illa Trandores to lure King Lleval into a trap, then kidnapped King Consort Yarif to try to force conflict between Cormir and Delletina, to take Delletina with her newfound gold mines, into the empire. They planned to kill the king consort to fulfill their aims and even conspired with Craice.”
Avestan’s eyes misted, but he held his head high.
Draylon continued, “Instead, Renvalle and Delletina formed an alliance.”
King Niam spoke then. “Emperor Soland tried to take by force what we would have justly offered out of friendship. Delletina is willing to discuss the possibility of joining the empire, but that is a topic for another day. I’m attending merely as a courtesy for offering my support.”
One by one, the commanders of the five kingdoms swore their allegiance to the new emperor.
A magistrate waited for Draylon and Yarif in the corridor. “Forgive me, Your Majesties, but I must speak with you on a most delicate matter.”
Draylon looked around. None here but them. “Then speak.”
“I hope I’m not being indelicate, but in light of the king consort’s recent abduction at the hand of our enemies…” The magistrate turned apologetic eyes toward the floor.
How dare the man act as though Yarif weren’t standing right there. “What of it?” Draylon growled.
“Sir, it’s the law for anyone who’s been under the influence of our enemies to be marked as a possible threat.”
A tattoo like Rufe’s? “You can’t be serious.”
“But I am, Majesty. It’s the law.”
Over Draylon’s dead body would Yarif be so marked, bearing the humiliation of something that wasn’t his fault, as Rufe had done over the years. “He wasn’t taken by enemies, but by my father’s instructions, by our people. You’ll not mark him.” Draylon rested a hand on his sword.
“No, you shall not,” came a new voice from down the corridor. Avestan strode toward them, resplendent in the formal purple robes of his station, every inch of his bearing proclaiming him emperor. “It’s ghastly, and I forbid it. One of my first acts will be to outlaw the practice.”
Draylon could’ve kissed his brother. So many wrongs could be righted with an emperor who cared for his people. He recalled Yarif’s consort training at the hands of priests. “Later, I want to talk to you about a few more practices to abolish.”
“I’ll await your input, brother.” With that, Avestan continued on his way.
When Draylon turned back around, the magistrate had fled. He couldn’t save Rufe from the torment, but he’d save anyone unlucky enough to be captured from this day forward. He suddenly found himself with his arms full of Yarif.
“Thank you, Dray. I’ve long thought those tattoos horrible and worried if I’d be made to wear one.”
That was the first time Draylon recalled Yarif calling him Dray. The familiarity warmed him. “Don’t worry. You’ve been forced to do many things against your will. Never again.” Draylon meant every word.
“I am very sorry about your father,” Yarif said, following Draylon into their shared bed chamber. “He went for Avestan, too close for me to use my sword. I just… reacted… and I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Draylon assured him. “You did all you could. Avestan knows that and so do I. Father did you nothing but wrong. And if you can forgive me for killing your father, I’m in no position to blame you for killing mine."
He shrugged, hoping the gesture looked casual. Draylon’s feelings for his father were… complicated and would take time to work out. “He took away others’ right to choose and followed his stubborn path.” Would the news bother Mother overly much? Avestan would see to her comfort as she gave up the role of empress for a dowager cottage. Maybe she’d even settle with one of her many lovers. She was resilient. She’d survive.
As would the empire.
“Still, losing a father, even a bad one, is painful. But he took away your choices. Would you change your circumstances now?” Yarif kept his voice low.
Draylon took his consort, his lover, his spouse, into his arms. “He may have brought me here and arranged for me to marry you, but I didn’t lie when I took my vows. Of my own free will, I married you. Of my own free will, I love you.” He brought his mouth down on Yarif’s, gratified when Yarif kissed back with equal fervor. Breathlessly, Draylon withdrew, stroking a finger down the side of Yarif’s face. “Make no mistake. I’m with you because I want to be. Because I couldn’t imagine myself anywhere else. I never wanted to be king, but with you by my side, I might not bring Renvalle to ruin.”
“You won’t. You’ll make a far better king than I ever could. You’ll be a good king. You are a good king. Already you’ve made changes that have been needed for ages.” Yarif rested his head against Draylon’s shoulder.
After a few moments of calm, Yarif ventured, “It might cause quite the scandal back in Cormir, but the Renvallian custom is to cremate our dead as soon as possible after their deaths. May sincerely apologized for accidentally ordering the same for Emperor Soland.”
Thus removing the evidence of how the man died. Now to make up for lost time, comforting Yarif.
A knock sounded on the door. Heaving a sigh, Draylon opened the door to find a guard poised with fist raised, ready to knock again. “Forgive me, Commander, um, Your Highness, um…”
“We both know who you’re talking to. Get on with it.” Draylon tried not to growl, he really did, but this intrusion took him away from the man he seriously wanted to bed.
“Begging your pardons, but Emperor Avestan wants to see King Consort Yarif. Alone.”
What now?
Chapter Thirty-eight
“What could Emperor Avestan possibly want with me?” Could this be the beginning of an alliance?
Unless Avestan planned to follow through on his father’s assassination scheme. Yarif had fought too hard to stay alive to give in now.
He dressed carefully in the rooms he now shared with Draylon, hoping to win respect but unwilling to emulate the former consort by flaunting jewelry and clothing far beyond what all but the wealthiest could afford. Not his style.
Yarif had grown used to simple attire while in hiding, decorated with embroidery instead of jewels. Far more comfortable and less conspicuous. He chose plain brown trousers and a loose-fitting tunic of cream linen, open at the throat. Sturdy boots completed the outfit.
He stared down at his bare hand. Where was his ring now? On the mountain still, with Illa?
Draylon rose from his place on the bed. “I have something for you.”
“What?”
Draylon took Yarif’s hand, sliding on a golden ring with a beautiful sapphire stone. “I know Illa stole your wedding ring. And it was just something simple Father’s secretary acquired. While we were in Delletina, my mother sent this one. I found it with a note in my room.”
Yarif turned his hand, watching the stone catch the light. “It’s beautiful.” He’d always loved sapphires.
“It was my great-grandfather’s ring. I kept it locked away, never thinking I’d marry. It belongs on your hand if you like it.” Uncertainty clouded Draylon’s eyes.
“I love it. Thank you.” So much better than the plain band the emperor put no thought into.
Draylon smiled, lifting Yarif’s hand to his lips.
Yarif couldn’t help smiling as he faced the mirror despite his ruined hair and many bruises.
Marks of honor.
“Shall we go?” Draylon was coming with Yarif, right?
Draylon nodded.
Two guards fell into step behind as they left their rooms, much to the grumbling of Draylon, but this time for protection, not as jailers. Or so Yarif hoped. He wasted no time getting to his father’s old office.
One of the many secretaries in the outer office bowed low. “Good evening, Your Majesties. His Imperial Majesty is waiting.”
“I’ll wait for you here.” Draylon dropped a kiss on Yarif’s nose. “I’m right here if you need me.”
The woman opened the door to the inner office, then closed the door behind Yarif.
No one sat behind the desk.
“Ah, Yarif. Good of you to join me” came a cheery voice from the chair in the corner. Tea service and a plate of pastries sat on a low table.
Yarif had seen and spoken to Avestan before, but never alone. Steeling his nerves, he sat on the opposite chair where Avestan beckoned.
“Would you like tea?” Avestan filled two cups without waiting for an answer. “I must import some of your local teas when I return to Cormira. I’ve grown quite fond of them. My wife will love them too. She does enjoy a good cup of tea.” Avestan’s smile reassured Yarif that his head might not be on the chopping block.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Avestan nodded. “Please. We’re brothers in the eyes of the law. Call me Avestan or Avi.” He took a sip of tea, closed his eyes, then reopened them with an “Ahh… I needed that.”
The day’s strain showed around his eyes, dark circles underneath.
Yarif took a sip from his cup. Having been raised on Renvallian tea, he didn’t quite understand why Avestan made such a big deal over something so familiar unless he merely meant to compliment one of the kingdom’s chief exports. “Thank you,” Yarif said. “You wanted to see me?” His frazzled nerves couldn’t handle making idle conversation until Avestan grew ready to state his purpose.
Avestan’s smile appeared tired. “Straight to the point! My brother said as much.”
What else had Draylon said? “Isn’t it better not to waste time?”
“I agree wholeheartedly. I’d hoped to wait a few days to talk to you, but in light of my father’s death, I must return to Cormira immediately. Since you insist on getting down to business, we’re here to discuss your future.”
“My… future.” Oh, dear.
“Yes. My father forced you into a marriage you didn’t want and used your brother and sister as leverage to ensure your compliance. You didn’t deserve such treatment.” Avestan quietly regarded Yarif for a moment, then gave a decisive nod. What kind of internal dialog had he just held, and what had he agreed with himself on? “I also don’t want my brother to live out his years with a consort who’d rather be anywhere than at Dray’s side.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’m offering you a choice. By your own admission, you have no desire to be king. I'll annul your marriage if you also have no desire to be king consort.”
“You can do that?”
Avestan scowled. Oh, no. Did he think the quick answer indicated Yarif’s choice? “I am emperor. I can do many things.”
“In that case, what would happen to the children and me?”
“One of my brother’s many titles is Duke of Havenwood, a small but profitable estate in the south along the border with Draige. He’ll surrender the title and lands to you. With your management skills, I’ve no doubt you’ll thrive there, and you’ll be near your mother’s family in Draige. I can have the papers drawn up tomorrow. Let me fetch a secretary.” Avestan began to rise.
Yarif threw up a staying hand. “Wait! What if that’s not what I want?”
Avestan reseated himself. “Is there another place you’d like? I understand you hold a few minor titles of your own.”
Was Avestan saying such things because he wanted Draylon out of the marriage? Yarif had half a mind to stick his head out of the door and demand direct answers. “What if I don’t want an annulment?”
Avestan stared at Yarif for several long moments. “Then you would continue as king consort of Renvalle. If you’re amenable, and Draylon agrees, you can name one of the twins as successor.”
“Either one?” Dare Yarif hope?
“Yes. I hope Delletina will soon be part of the empire, and they’re not the only monarchy to name both sons and daughters as heirs.”
Could things really fall into place so easily? Well, not precisely easily, based on all Yarif had endured. “What of Draylon? What does he want?”
Avestan rolled his shoulders. “Mostly to please his emperor. And I want for him to remain here. Oh, and also to please his king consort. Offering up the dukedom to make amends for Father and to give you a choice was Draylon’s idea, but I know he hoped you’d turn it down.”
Yarif relaxed, letting out tension with a heavy exhale. “I stated in my vows that I came of my own free will. I haven’t changed my mind.”
“I’m delighted to hear it. I’ll be leaving shortly for Cormira, hopefully to not be too far behind the news of our emperor’s demise. I expect you and my brother at Father’s state funeral and my coronation. After that, you’ll both act as emissaries to Delletina.” Avestan winked. “When visiting, take Commander Rufe with you.”
“Commander Rufe?” Better than Commander Illa.
“Yes. I went to his room personally to bestow the promotion. I think he’ll be useful in diplomacy with King Niam.”
“Why do you say that?”
Avestan smirked. “Because our dearest Commander Rufe had to climb over King Niam to get out of bed.”
Yarif found himself on horseback three days later, riding incognito beside Draylon on their way to the capital. Occasionally he glanced over to see Draylon smiling.
