Debt of Skin

Eleven: Bloody Glass in Soft Palms

Mahe was not there when Kaliya woke. The room was quiet except for Tum rustling in his bedding.

It took a moment before Kaliya even realized where he was, since it was rare that he ever came anywhere near Mahe's room. He had no reason to. Then he sat there scrutinizing his memory, trying to make sense of the previous night.

He recalled drinking for hours. And he could vaguely call upon the memory of Mahe escorting him to his room. However, they clearly did not end up there. Kaliya winced at the thought. He must have tormented Mahe to the point of giving up. Pursing his lips, Kaliya stood up. Did Mahe get any sleep at all? Perhaps Mahe simply left Kaliya there and went to sleep in Adain's chambers like he used to when they were young.

Because it had been so long since Kaliya was last given the opportunity, he took his time studying his surroundings. Mahe was a reserved person who generally hid his true feelings behind a polite smile. Thus it was intriguing to see how he reflected his attitude into his private space.

But there was hardly anything to look at. The room was just as neat as Mahe himself was, with little left out to even give a clue about what went on inside of his head. Kaliya knew it was wrong to force himself inside of a person's sacred place, but Mahe was not here and would likely not come back until it was time for sleep. Also Kaliya did not regard himself as a particularly well-mannered person. Neither did Mahe. So how much worse could that perception become?

Since the room was so simple, there wasn't much to even attempt to delve into. The only two options were the chest at the foot of his bed, and the cabinets across the room. Kaliya began with the chest. His head throbbed, but he did not care. This was too thrilling to pass up. When he opened the lid, he was a bit disappointed.

Clothes.

This left a saddened feeling in Kaliya's chest. His own bedroom housed numerous clothes, ranging from extravagant ballroom clothing that he was wearing right now, to simple peasant roughspun for when he traveled out to the villages.

Mahe had very little clothing. It didn't even fill this small chest, and it was folded pristinely. Kaliya didn't have to ask to know that Mahe did that himself, since he refused to accept help from maids.

Just as he went to close the lid back up, he hesitated. Peaking out from beneath Mahe's light coat, was a small wooden box. It blended in with the wood of the chest, making it difficult to find at first glance. But once Kaliya saw it, he could not shake the image. He knew it would be better if he simply walked away, but he could not help himself.

As subtly as he could he move the coat to the side and pulled the box out. It was small enough to fit in his palm, decorated with simple gold trim on the corners. It was not locked.

Sucking in a breath, Kaliya opened it.

All the way until Kaliya was ten years old, he would follow Mahe everywhere he went. Everyday he would wake up and ask when he could play with Mahe, and he would throw a tantrum when it was time to sleep. Why? Because he never had enough of playing with Mahe. The days always seemed cruelly short to his child mind, and as a spoiled prince, this felt especially devastating.

It was hard to say what drew him into Mahe so much, but he felt as if he was meant to be with him at all times. However, Kaliya was also very loud and obnoxious. Mahe was nowhere near. As a result King Xiane would often make it appoint to try to give them breaks from each other when he thought Mahe needed silence. Kaliya was particularly jealous of the time Mahe spent reading with Safiya.

He never truly resented his sister for her closeness with him, since he knew that Mahe genuinely valued their time together. And Kaliya loved his sister similarly. But he did often find himself upset at the fact that he could not provide the same peace that drew them together. He was too much of a wild child, and Safiya was too serene.