Of Rust and Gold (Book 1, The Saints' Song Series)

Birthday Bonus

Turning thirteen had meant so much to him. In Escan, the word for thirteen was spelled the same way as their word meaning "most prized".  As such, it was an important birthday. Certainly for a prince.

He remembered the day fondly. Sparklers came out of his cake, nearly lighting the dancehall on fire. The palace halls lined with a procession of nobles coming to give him gifts, and Argus sitting before tapestries and flags in a mock throne beside his father. King Frederick on his right, and because he was his closest friend at the time, Enyo was granted another seat to his left.

Guests had to walk down a long golden carpet to the dais, presenting him with their gifts. Cidro gave him a new violin, and knowing Argus' laziness when it came to learning his instrument, hired a famous Ceoqui musician to play it for him. Leonides gave him a thick book for every year he'd been alive, seemingly endless volumes about Escana history and accounts of foreign political climates. Even all these years later, he never read them. Manolo gave him prayer beads that were weighed down so heavily by gold he could hardly pick it up. Orland and Zurina gave him two halves to Nagi statue. It was called a Dygi. When put in front of windows before going to bed, it was supposed to ward off evil spirits but it had to be separated during the day otherwise Argus would risk possession. The damn thing had scared him so much he'd thrown it out and never looked back.

Eron hired professional Renya storytellers to craft tales and songs about him, and sing they did. Up on a stage as people danced and drank his birthday away, songs about his eternal beauty and good graces. Naldo gave him a sword and lessons in the courtyard that Argus never took him up on. As he grew older, he had to wonder if he would have benefited from some weapons training. Toli wrote him a poem, which he performed before the dinner and nearly reduced himself to tears as they all watched them intently. Calvino, perhaps the most rational, simply commissioned Argus a new pair of shoes.

Damaris gave him a music box. Not at his party. No, he remembered she hardly showed her face in those days. But that night, she'd snuck into his bedroom and they'd huddled under the blankets as she played the music box her late father brought from deep within the Highlands. Argus still had the music box.

The hall was full of presents, people had to weave between them to get to the dancefloor or to the refreshments. But there was more. He remembered his father leaning towards him and saying, "I have a very special guest for you."

Argus, who had been smiling the whole night, beamed even brighter. His father always had the best surprises. Whenever he said something was special, he usually meant it. The last time he had something special for him it came in the form of an army of toys from the colonies. Or a whole new wardrobe that cost half a million idros. Once King Frederick gave him an entire statue built in his likeness because Argus had thrown a temper tantrum over not being old enough to enjoy a glass of wine at dinner.

He watched his father, who smiled back at him, watched and waited for him to elaborate on his special guest.

But it was Enyo who spoke next.

"Oh, Saints."

Argus snapped his gaze to look in his direction. Enyo's eyes had widened, zeroing in on the pale stranger who waltzed down the golden carpet towards them.

Pale. Few were pale in Graza. In fact, Argus always likened himself to be the only one in the capital with such a skin shade. But here he stood, tall and blond. Not a deep, rich honey like the hair on his head, an icy almost white shade of blond that blinded him. It wasn't long either, cropped short on top of his head. His shoulders broad underneath the long kaftan.

He came closer. From far away, Argus assumed he was older. Someone with a built body like that certainly had to be a grown man. But he approached the dais, stepped up to face Argus, and before he bowed he saw the strangles of hair that outlined his lips and boyish curves to his face. He couldn't be much older than Argus.