Duty-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book II ]

38

"I've heard some disturbing whispers about you, Uachi," said Matei, looking up at the ranger as they strolled along the ramparts of the palace.

It was a cold afternoon. Uachi was enjoying the crisp air and the quiet; he'd spent the morning arguing with some of the palace guard, struggling to exert his will where Captain Alban was king, and was glad for a reprieve from dealing with people. "Oh, aye?" he muttered. "Must be a refreshing change after all the exciting rumors featuring you."

"I'm afraid I do not think it's a laughing matter, my friend."

"What, then? Who'd you hear this rumor from?"

"From Captain Alban, in fact." Matei drew to a stop and turned to face Uachi; his expression was grave and, yes, it was not amused. Uachi restrained the urge to tell Matei what he could do with any commentary from the illustrious captain as Matei went on. "He tells me the guards have been whispering about late-night visits between you and our guest from the Mage's Keep."

A sense of shame settled over Uachi, quickly replaced with irritation. "Don't get your royal britches in a bunch," he muttered. "It's not like you're thinking, Matei. You'll recall I told you she was sleeping in my bed on one of the first days she was here."

"What am I to think? Visits between you and a girl after nightfall? A girl who is in our keeping, who is not free to come and go as she pleases? I certainly hope it is not what I think; it would be quite an unwelcome surprise."

"I tried to get her to leave me in peace and to stay in her own chamber," Uachi said. He began to walk again, glowering at the path before them. He had been enjoying the peace and the weather, but the fact that the palace was abuzz with whispers about his visits with Ealin so frustrated him that he could take no more pleasure in the day. "She would not. She says she cannot abide the dark."

"Aha," Matei said, walking at Uachi's side. He hugged his cloak around him, warding off the chill. "And you give me to believe that you cannot make her bend to your will? You, Uachi, are subject to the whims of a child?"

"She isn't a child," snapped Uachi. "She's a woman."

"A distinction that does not bring me comfort."

"You can't truly think I'm taking advantage of her." He drew to an abrupt stop and rounded on Matei, fixing him with a scowl. "You know me better than that, my friend—I'd as soon claim you'd taken advantage of Mhera."

An expression of discomfort passed over Matei's features. "She's not in question here," he said.

"Just trust me to know my business. I'll do nothing to bring you shame, of that you can be sure."

Matei sighed. "I do know you, and I trust you, Uachi. Do you care to explain it, then, so I might defend you?"

"Don't feel the need to defend me. You're the emperor; such things should be beneath your notice."

"But they aren't. You're my friend, and you are one of my closest advisors. You know that. The realm knows it, too. I think I'm owed the truth in this matter; a shadow over you casts a shadow on the throne."

There was a break in the ramparts overlooking the Imperial Gardens. In the summer, when the blossoms were in full color, it would have been a beautiful sight to behold; that must have been why one of the emperors past had seen fit to put a sitting area there, interrupting the path of guards on patrol. Uachi sat, not waiting for Matei's permission, and scowled out across the winter-gray landscape. "I can't explain it," he said.

"Try. I insist."

Uachi sighed. He looked up as Matei chose a seat next to him, the both of them huddled in their cloaks, warding off the crisp chill in the air. He reflected for a moment, wondering how he could put into words the nameless feeling he himself didn't understand, the feeling that had urged him to protect Ealin ever since he'd seen her in the courtyard of the Mage's Keep weeks before. Now he knew Ealin's secret, and the desire to keep her from harm had grown into a burden Uachi had no choice but to shoulder. She had all but moved into his room, and Uachi, confused by feelings toward her that were increasingly, uncomfortably tender, had been unable to turn her out and had spent his nights half-asleep with his back against the door.