Lying next to her, Valen rubbed his hand up and down Fang's smooth, warm skin. Between these soft and languid touches he pressed kisses to her face and neck while his tail curled over her legs and wrapped around her ankle. Once she caught her breath, Fang rolled towards him on her side. Their fingers twisted together, Fang's gold-lacquered nails bright against Valen's deep red skin, and for a time Valen absorbed the sweep of her eyelashes, her sweet, short little nose, the curve of her reddened lips. He studied the strange shape of her rounded ears, their lack of pinnae making her moods difficult to read if one didn't know to look elsewhere; without a tail she couldn't slash the air in irritation or swing it with contentment, but her dark brows and mobile, expressive face told Valen more than words could say.
Fang blinked. "You're staring."
Valen smiled. "Well, you are a human." He wrapped his arm around her. "Better get used to it, Lady Consort."
"Not much I can do about that." Fang shrugged one shoulder. "What do you think Tias will do when that happens?"
"Ideally, he'll faint on the live feed and have to be carried out while billions watch. Personally I'd love to see that, but I think realistically he'll just smile and nod because billions will be watching – he cares more about how he looks to the Empire than he does anything else."
"You don't think he'll try something later?"
Valen chuckled. "Is this the kind of pillow-talk I should expect from now on? Let me worry about Tias, Firemother knows I have the experience."
Fang traced the outline of tattooed scales on his chest. "Sorry... I just don't want to be the reason he does something crazy, like have you assassinated or something."
"He wouldn't dare. Besides, it's not you he hates – anyone who would align themselves with me is suspect in his eyes."
"But why?" Fang flattened her hand, fingers spreading over the tattoo's lines. "There has to be a reason he hates you so much, and I know everyone is dancing around it but no one will talk about it."
Valen's hearts sank and his stomach turned cold and sour. 'Have you told her what happens to the women who get too attached to you?' 'You should tell her, she should hear it from you first...' He'd almost forgotten that Fang didn't know the true reason his brother hated him, the 'secret' that was common knowledge to every Drass. Yena was right, though, Fang would find out someday and knowing her she'd be more upset that he hadn't told her. Fang deserved to know, and she deserved to be told by the person responsible for it all. He swallowed down the sick, tight feeling in his throat – caused by guilt, not alcohol – and resolved to tell her the truth. "Tias hates me because I killed our mother."
"Sorry, what?" Fang's brows pulled together, creasing the skin over her nose in a small vertical line. Her face did that when she worried, or didn't understand a new Drass word, or when Valen tried to explain an aspect of the Empire that confused her. Now she looked at him as though she hadn't understood a word he'd said, and behind her confusion Valen sensed doubt and concern. "Did you say 'killed'?"
Valen closed his eyes. He didn't want to look anymore, didn't want to watch her eyes as she realized the monster she'd been forced to tie herself to. Valen nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but... I wanted to protect you from Tias, and I can't do that unless you're a Lady Consort. I understand if you want to back out–"
"What happened? Valen, you can't just say something like that and not tell me what happened." Valen forced on eye open, expecting disgust and hate. That's what he got from Tias for almost thirty years, why would Fang be any different? He hadn't lied to her, but not telling her before she agreed to his plan had been lying by omission and just as wrong. But when he peered through the tiny crack he didn't see horror or even anger – rather, Fang's dark eyes searched his face with sadness and sympathy. "Please, tell me."
Every fiber of him resisted, his hands curling in on themselves as if to catch the words before they escaped and wrought havoc. The cold, hard ball in his stomach swelled and Valen fought to keep it in lest it consume him in despair. You'll hate me, just like Tias. But you deserve to know, you deserve the truth. "After Aeden was born, my father said he had enough children. My mm–..." he had to force the word, one he hadn't said in years. "My mother, the Empress, disagreed. It's said she loved being pregnant, that she looked happier and more beautiful when she was pregnant than when she was Premier of the Imperial Order of the Arts – she was an incredible dancer, the best in the Empire, even better than 'Sana. She must have loved it so much she was willing to risk her life for one more baby, but she tried for years with no success. She was getting older, and my father kept telling her she was being ridiculous. She was sixty-six, almost at the age where most Drass women stop trying because it's dangerous. It's said that they argued over it, and she said that if she didn't get pregnant within the year she would stop trying. My father..." Valen balled his hands into fists, stabbing his palms with his claws. "My father accepted, and less than a month later she was pregnant. With me."
"She got what she wanted," Fang said quietly, gently. "Isn't that a good thing? If she loved being pregnant then it couldn't have been that bad."
"Hngh, you'd think so." Miserably, Valen turned his face into the thick quilt. "With my brothers, she had an easy time. Much easier than 'Sana – she didn't feel sick or tired, and everyone says she always looked happy and healthy. But with me..." Valen pulled in a shuddering breath, his eyes beginning to burn with tears he didn't want to shed in front of Fang. Tears are for children. "She started having trouble halfway through, fainting spells and not being able to sleep. She was pale and weak, someone had to be with her all the time in case... in case something happened. My father begged her to... he asked her to put an end to it, to have a physician terminate, but she refused. She wouldn't–" Covering his face with his hands, Valen rolled away from Fang, burning with guilt and shame as he forced the rest of the story out: "She said she would 'have the child or die trying'. I came two months early – I was so small and weak the physician didn't think I would live – but my m-mother started to bleed, a-and they couldn't s-stop it–" Valen gasped and sobbed, "I killed her, I killed my own mother!"
"No." Fang's voice, firm but kind, just barely broke through the blur of remorse that had always clouded Valen's life; each day he had lived had been stolen from the Empress, and he'd carried that guilt since his birth. "Valen, no. You didn't do anything, you were just a baby." A soft, warm hand grasped his shoulder and Valen flinched. She pulled him around, reaching for his face with her free hand. "It's no one's fault. Women die having babies, it's a risk no matter what – it can happen to anyone." Her smooth fingers stroked his cheek, wiping at the tears that wet his scales. "Come here, I know it hurts."
Valen sank into Fang's arms, his red hands clutching at her body and knotting into her hair. "I'm s-sorry, I shouldn't cry–"
"Hush, it's okay. I've cried on you, it's only fair." Fang shuffled around and pulled his head down to her chest. "It's okay, Valen. It wasn't your fault. I'm so sorry."
For the first time in his adult life, Valen wept over the loss of his mother. He curled up with Fang, the only woman who'd ever showed him any sincere affection, and held on as the flow of sorrow, regret and guilt broke through the walls he'd built to keep it all in, an avalanche of grief he'd fought to keep hidden so Tias couldn't use it against him. On some level he knew Fang was right – he'd been just an hour and a half old when the Empress passed, utterly defenseless and so small – but Valen would still carry the guilt regardless. And while Tias certainly understood the reality of it, that hadn't stopped him from holding his thirty-year grudge. Burrowing deeper into Fang's embrace Valen breathed in her sweet teaflower scent, seeking comfort in it while her fingers combed through his shortened hair and stroked his ears and horns. She doesn't blame me. Valen realized then that his feelings for her were much deeper than he'd originally thought. She may not love me, but she accepts me. That has to be enough.
Fang wrapped her arms around Valen's shoulders. "Are you okay?"
"Hngh," Valen nodded, wiping his face with a corner of the quilt. "I'm all right. Not wonderful, but I'm all right."
"Come here." Fang pulled on him, indicating she wanted him to lie next to her. "I'm sorry I brought it up, I didn't know."
Valen began to roll and wriggle, dragging himself up the quilt like a crocodile climbing a riverbank. "No, I should've told you from the first. I shouldn't have kept that from you – honestly I'm surprised you hadn't figured it out already."
"I knew something was up," Fang tugged part of the quilt from under Valen's body and slid under it. "Aisana said something a while back, I didn't know what she meant but it sounded like something she wasn't supposed to talk about."
Kicking off his leggings finally, Valen followed her under the quilt. "What did she say?"
"Something about you not setting me up like her."
Valen winced. "I'm sorry, Fang. When 'Sana's pregnant she can be mean without meaning to – I think it makes her nervous."
"Maybe, but it might be that giant dickhead she's married to."
It hurt to laugh so soon after crying, when the pain was still fresh and the fear hadn't quite passed, but Valen laughed. He's nervous too, but 'Sana's half the age our mother was. Perhaps his brother preferred being a dickhead to showing his true feelings. Tias was twelve when she died, I'm sure he remembers more than he wants to. Could he really blame his brother for taking his anger, fear and grief out on a defenseless younger brother? She was his mother too. Valen burrowed into the quilts, reaching under them for Fang and pulling her smooth body up against his and curling his tail around her legs. He watched her lips curve into a smile and the hurt from his past softened to a more contemporary ache; Valen couldn't help but wonder if things would be different if he'd met Fang another way, at a different time. What if Ariadane hadn't died, would that have made Tias a kinder brother? Without the animosity between them, Tias wouldn't have had a reason to play such a horrible trick; Valen might not have met Fang at all. He hugged her suddenly, listening to her surprised gasp when his gold-plated claws pressed their tips into her skin: "Oh!"
"Fang," he sighed in her ear, "I haven't forgotten my promise – I'm still going to find a way to give you your freedom."
"I know," Fang caught her breath and stroked his scales, "after everything else you've done, I know you will."
"If it takes a year, ten years, I'll find it and you will be free. I'll do whatever I have to, so you can walk out of here a free woman." I would give up everything for you to stay, my Flame.
Fang nuzzled her forehead under his chin. "You act like you can't wait to see me go."
"I keep promises, not people."
"What if I wanted to stay?"
Valen's head jerked back. What?! "Sorry?"
"Well, if I'm being honest, living in a palace with running hot water and a warm bed is sort of growing on me." She grinned at him and it took everything in Valen's will not to hope she was giving up on freedom. Of course not, who wouldn't love a private hot spring? I do spoil her, no woman would hate that. At least for a while...
"I mean... You could stay if you wanted to, once you're Lady Consort you'll have that right. That's why I want to give you your freedom – so you can do whatever you want, go anywhere you please."
Fang's grin faded, something sorrowful and distant taking over. "It would be nice to have a place to come back to... I had to move around a lot when I was younger, we never really had a place that felt like home."
My apartments have never felt like home, until you lived there. Valen had meant what he said in the bar, that the last month had been the happiest of his life; the thought that it could come to an end at all made his hearts clench. "That's one good thing about being a Drassian's Lady Consort, there will always be a place for you." In my home, in my bed, between my hearts.