In Twain (BoyxBoy)

4 - s n a k e s

Charzaphir

Handling my close-kin was not unlike handling a pot full of snakes. If I kept sticking my hand in, eventually, I would get bit. I didn't want to get bit, but he wanted everything and he wanted it immediately. He had little use for patience. What he couldn't get right away, he schemed blatantly to obtain. Arguing gained me precious little. His scheming was better than mine, but because that's how he lived, the rest of us followed in kind. Even with my system of men and women gathering information on allies and enemies alike, I couldn't surpass him. Knowledge is power and he trumped me. I knew my strengths and weaknesses. Unfortunately, so did he.

I pressed my lips together and hesitated a moment before the door that led to my quarters. While Umecaem kept me in lavish accommodations, it kept me away from my people. I slept on silks; Ghimizar slept in lodgings barely above livable and practically in the dungeon. Certainly, I had a lot of erfere visiting, but just because they shed clothing for others didn't mean they did the same for me. Umecaem was many things, but a fool was not one of them.

I loathed being that far from my people, but it was with purpose. One was to keep eyes on me. The other was to keep eyes on my first, the man who led the men who led my armies. Unfortunately, my armies were at the holdings of I'jei-Cai. I came with minimal warriors in an attempt to keep a somewhat peaceful accord with Umecaem. He made it his personal game to challenge that. He insulted me by insulting my first and forcing him, along with the rest of my people, to sleep in the bowels of the keep practically next to prisoners. Ghimizar was commander of my armies, the First to the Forn of I'jei-Cai and my personal healer. He spoke with me at length and finally convinced me to drop it. The snub of my man, my people and their mistreatment would be discussed at a later time.

I nodded to the two men that stopped at my door and remained as I entered. It didn't matter how many times I told Ghimizar that I didn't need to have my room guarded. He insisted it was a good idea to make sure no one could listen in on conversations that might be overheard through closed doors. I walked into the room.

"My forn."

Xumerion. It was about time that she got back to me. I wondered where she hid herself recently. Usually, she responded faster to the tasks that I sent her on, but with the delays, it appeared that she had run into some challenges. I tossed my sword and daggers onto the desk. It would be so much easier if no one was allowed to carry weapons in the keep, but no one would ever remain. They didn't feel comfortable without the metal bumping against their hips. Not enough people knew how to fight with their hands and feet—or with their minds.

"Xumerion."

She lay on my bed smiling at me, her hair just so, her outfit just so. Everything about her announced the role she played. She acted like an erfere, though she wasn't one. Once upon a time, that was her place, a seductress among the gentry, but her fate—me—intervened, and while once it was true, it was no longer. I raised an eyebrow at her. Not in this lifetime. Or, Soriad willing, in the next either. In the past, she was sultry. Soft. Simple. Now, she was harsh, blunt like a mallet. Everything needed to fit together, pieces interlocking without leftovers. I didn't know if that was my influence, but she used that mental mallet to force everything to fit. When it still wouldn't, that's when the true pain began, especially for the part that refused to conform to her wishes. Then she brought out the knives.

She sought the title of Forne of I'jei-Cai and desperately clung to the idea that it was possible no matter how many times I discouraged the notion. Even a blunt, "it will not occur," wasn't enough to deter her. Apparently, she thought she might still change my mind. Besides, it's hard to want to lay with someone that might possibly kill me on our Bond night because it was good for business.