Displaced

Chapter 54

"...really, you must try it some time. It is absolutely delightful! Kokovan is a master of his craft whose ability to express the true nature of Astrontic Enlightenment is unparalleled. The choreography alone is a work of genius."

"I see," Tehlmar replied, trying to seem as interested as he could—a task was far harder than it seemed. He willed himself to smile and nod as the petite woman gabbed on and on about Petruvian dance recitals, his spirit shriveling up more and more with each passing moment.

"My family will be hosting the Nema Song Troupe for a performance at our villa six days from now. They're one of the best in all the lands, you know, and I've personally requested that they perform Kokovan's 'The Lament of the Drali Clan Across Three Generations'. I would be ever so delighted if you were to attend. I can't think of a better way for you to experience such art for the first time."

"It sounds quite entertaining, but I am not sure of my availability just yet. I'll have to speak with my attendants and get back to you soon. It was lovely meeting you."

"Likewise," the dainty woman replied, executing a flawless curtsy, a subtle excuse for her to provide him with a better view of her assets down her low-cut bodice. Tehlmar couldn't help but feel respect for her boldness, but he felt little else at the sight. "I hope to see you again soon, my prince."

Tehlmar replied only with a smile, one that vanished the moment she was out the door and out of earshot. As soon as he felt safe to do so, he flumped down a nearby sofa in the least elegant manner possible and lean back against the soft cushions with exhaustion.

"What do you think?" Artiermius asked, standing in the doorway. "A marriage with the young lady of the Remesa Clan would tie the Esmae and the Remesa clans together, giving your family access to their entire manufacturing enterprise while allowing them greater opportunity in our lands. An advantageous arrangement for all sides. Not to mention that she is one of the fairest, most desired women in all the land."

"She was better than the last few," Tehlmar lied. He felt no interest towards the woman, nor with any of the other eligible potential courtship targets he'd met over the last few days. He just couldn't connect with them in any meaningful way. Their values, worldview, and tastes seemed foreign and inscrutable, as if they were from a completely different world than him. Actually, he mused, that wasn't the case—he felt he understood Sofie, a girl literally from a different world, more than he did noble girls his age in his own country.

Now that he was a prince again, everybody wanted him to participate in high society, regardless of his actual inclinations; in fact, his father directly demanded that he do so. Tehlmar hated every moment of it. As far as he was concerned, "high society" was a disease wealthy nobles contracted from a combination of too much money and too much free time.

"Your father expects you to begin courtship by the turn of the season," Artiermius reminded him. "You are running out of time."

"What if I don't want any of them?"

"That is not an option. Your father was quite clear, you may recall."

"I know, I know," Tehlmar grumbled. He yawned and stretched out his arms. "Well, all this conversation has left me worn out. I think I will go to bed early today."

"If you insist, my Prince. I will see you tomorrow morning."

Tehlmar retired to his bedchambers in a grave mood. In a strange way, he felt something similar to how he'd felt while on the run from the bounty, where a constant sense of oppressive, foreboding doom weighed down his spirit. But now, he somehow felt even more hopeless than he'd felt then. Back then, he'd been surrounded by enemies that he could fight, kill, and escape. Now, instead of people, he was penned in by societal expectation and the burden of a prince's reputation. No amount of blades could slay the fact that he was expected by everybody to take a wife within the next few years. He could feel the trap that was Drayhadan high society slowly closing in around him, and he didn't know what to do about it.