Divided (33 page)

“Loyal to a fault,” Lee mused aloud.  “That seems like a
trait that would suit you, Kilik.  You must understand when and when not to
exert it, though.”

Kilik’s jaw tightened at being spoken to in this way, and
then he managed a weak glare in Lee’s direction.  “You must be maddening to
spend time with, Lee,” he said flatly.

“I am,” Lee answered.

The sound of the door alerted Lee to the fact that people
would be coming in out of the rain, when his head moved to check who was at the
door, Kilik’s did too.  The person who had entered was not who either of them
had expected, Lee would guess.  Though, in hindsight, Lee decided that the time
might be late enough that it was understandable.  Calis’s eyes were on Kilik,
as though the boy had just committed a crime.  “Kilik,” he said, with a worried
voice only an infatuated man could manage.  “Juliet said you were here.”

“You went to my home?”  Kilik said crossly.  “You went into
my house and asked for me?  You should not do that, your highness.  You will
certainly make Lady Amaral feel uncomfortable, and your interests should not
lie with the common people.”  Then, the boy flushed with realization.  “I—I
don’t mean to sound entitled, but I think that you shouldn’t keep checking on
me.  I am well.”

“You aren’t well, though,” Calis said exasperatedly. 
“Juliet said that you aren’t well enough to be walking around.”

“I am, though,” Kilik said, as if this was going to diffuse
the situation with indisputable swiftness.

Of course, though, it didn’t.  “You are not.  You had a
fever last sun,” Calis pointed out unabashedly. 

“Why do you insist on concerning yourself with my affairs? 
I am nothing to you, your highness, and with all due respect, I don’t think
that you need to keep dirtying your boots with trips here,” Kilik said irately.

Lee had noticed that Calis was uncharacteristically composed
when he spoke with Kilik, far more so than when he dealt with others.  Whereas
Kilik said things that would normally set Calis’s teeth to a grind and infuse
him with ideas of punching the speaker, Kilik seemed to constantly endear
himself to Calis with his remarks.  “I have asked that you not call me your
highness, Kilik.”

“I will call you your highness, your highness, because you
are who you are, and therefore, I would risk execution if I did not show you
the proper respect,” the smaller boy answered with the quickness of one that
knew he wasn’t going to win an argument.

Then, Calis proved that knowledge correct.  “My father would
have to execute me if he hoped to accomplish anything of the sort.”

“You—you should not make such flagrant assertions!” Kilik
said with a gasped breath as his cheeks turned a soft shade of crimson.

“If you are worried about me being discovered and placed
under questioning, my reluctant friend, then you should not call me things such
as your highness—as it tends to draw attention.”  Kilik looked once again taken
aback, and he glared uncertainly at the floor of the tavern.

“I…” Kilik floundered.

Calis’s eyes then turned to Lee with a spark of shock.  Had
he really not known that his advisor was present this entire time?  Then, Calis
nodded his head.  Perhaps vaguely aware, Lee thought curiously.  “Lee,” the
prince said.

“How did your… meeting go?” Lee asked immediately, hoping
that Kilik would let the issue of Calis not seeking him out so openly drop. 
Surely, Lee and Kilik agreed on that issue, but they both also knew that Calis
would not be dissuaded.  Or, Kilik ought to have been able to see that.

Calis thought for a long moment, as if trying to determine
how he wanted to characterize the meeting, and then he spoke.  “Very odd,” he
answered.

“In what way?” Lee prodded.  ‘Boring,’ ‘non-stimulating,’
and ‘annoying’ were words that Lee had expected Calis to use, and ‘odd’ had
piqued his interest.

In their brief exchange, Calis had made his way across the
tavern to Kilik, where he forced the young man onto one of the benches beside
the tables.  Kilik resisted only momentarily, and then he allowed himself to
look up at Calis curiously.  “Every way,” Calis answered Lee, unhelpfully.

Kilik wanted to ask about the meeting, and Lee could see the
energy he was using to repress his curiosity blazing in the blue irises.  Katt,
on the other hand, demonstrated no such restraint.  “What was the meeting?”

Calis glanced at her, as if she were a flea and needed to be
flicked into the distance.  Such a different expression than the one with which
he regarded Kilik, Lee mused.  The contrast was startling.  “I met with a lady
of another house.”

Kilik was unable to contain his snort, and Calis unable to
subdue his smirk at Kilik’s obvious interest in the topic.  “Did you propose?”
Kilik asked blithely.  “Considering your overt way of speaking, that seems
natural for you.”

“That is not my way of speaking,” Calis answered gently. 
“On the contrary, I handled negotiations in Dokak, and you haven’t the
slightest idea how delicate and restrained one must be to trick another nation
into helping Telandus.”  There was the subtlest twitch of Kilik’s features at
that.  Odd.  “I restrain myself very well, Kilik, just not around you.”

“Stop saying things like that,” Kilik snapped.

“No,” Calis returned.  Once again, the air was filled with
the two of them trying desperately to fight off feelings that would not be
vanquished.  Or rather, Kilik was still fighting them—Calis seemed embracing of
these feelings and intent on making Kilik accept his own. 

Lee could not understand why Calis would want to do this. 
Surely, the prince realized that his marriage to this woman, Lady Avyon—no
matter how
odd
the engagement this sun had been—was inevitable.  Kilik,
though, was not one to be coerced or dissuaded by Calis’s charm or his own
feelings.  “I am going.”  With a decisive scoff, he started towards the door,
brushing by Calis as though he were nothing but one of the benches. 

A flourish of his body, and Calis had Kilik by the wrist with
a very firm look in his blue-green eyes.  “You will do no such thing.”

“Do you intend to exert your will over me, your highness?”
Kilik challenged.  The challenge, for what it was, was an admission that Kilik
knew that Calis would never do such a thing.  Therefore, this boy knew in some
part of him that Calis meant him no harm.  Yet, he would not give himself to
his feelings without challenge.

The prince, though, would not back down.  He pulled Kilik
closer to him with a stormy gaze that looked a tad like his father’s.  “I will
if I must.  You will not worsen your condition to make a point to me, Kilik.”

“Let me go,” Kilik growled. 

Rather than obeying the command, Calis took a step forward
and grabbed Kilik’s other hand, so that the smaller man was entirely
restrained.  “I will not.”

Lee noticed for the first time that this entire ordeal was
making Katt uncomfortable.  She was clearly trying to determine whether or not
she should interfere on Kilik’s behalf.  He was, after all, her friend, and he
was being subjugated into a situation that he didn’t appear to desire.  Until
now, though, she had remained unfalteringly quiet.  She must have factored in
the fact that Calis was speaking for her position on Kilik’s going out into the
rain.  Calis was not forcing Kilik into anything that was not for his own
good.  The question remained however, whether or not it was acceptable to force
Kilik’s own good upon him.  In Lee’s own mind, being pressured into realizing
his own mortality was precisely what this mysterious boy needed.

After a brief struggle, Calis seemed contented that Kilik
wouldn’t go anywhere, and he let the boy move away from him.  Lee could see the
rattled expression on Kilik’s face, and by the way his breathing had sped up
just marginally, Lee was certain that Calis had affected the poor boy more than
Kilik had expected to be affected.  “You were gone for five years, were you
not?” Kilik asked in a harsh whisper.  Lee found himself smiling at the fact
that Kilik was attempting to keep Calis’s identity secretive, despite
pretending not to give a damn about him. 

“I do not understand,” Kilik continued, “surely your family
must have missed you.  Surely, there must be plans for you.  How is it that you
seem to have so much time to dally about in Dark District, your highness?”

A fair question, Lee thought.  Too bad Kilik didn’t seem to
realize that Calis was not above entirely disregarding his obligations to his
family.  Lee preferred to think that Calis was above becoming too tangled
within his family’s so-called duties, actually.  “There are plans for me,”
Calis said thoughtfully.  “Plans that I have no particular interest in.”

“Your father has no remarks on your prolonged absences?”
Kilik continued.

Their gazes were so locked on one another that Lee wondered
if he could have thrown a few of the bottles behind the counter and have
neither of them notice.  Kilik may have noticed, but Calis would not have, he
decided.  “My father has no remarks on the things that he does not wish to
see.”

“Your father is unaware that you vanish?” the question was
much less accusing, and in fact, Kilik almost sounded concerned.

Calis pulled his weight back onto his back foot, and
therefore put a little distance between himself and the other man.  “You
believe me?”

This seemed to take Kilik off guard, and he began struggling
with some internal conflict at the question.  “I don’t know,” he finally
announced.  “I do not know the king.”

“I would prefer to keep it that way,” Calis stated idly. 
His eyes traced Kilik from head to toe, and there was a desire within them that
made even Lee feel a might uncomfortable.  Yes, Lee thought, he definitely
needed a new thinking place.

Another moment passed before Kilik persisted in his
interrogation.  “And what of your brother?  Are you two not close?”

“We are not,” Calis answered without hesitation.  There was
a note of penitence in Calis’s tone that Lee would never understand.  There was
positively nothing about Tareth that spoke to friendship. 

The younger Tsrali was incompetent, rude, brash, and on top
of all of that, he had Lavus’s power-hungry ambitions.  A fool that wanted to
be what his father was.  Tareth had the potential to be even more dangerous
than his father, and yet Calis had persisted in trying to become close to his
younger brother.

Lee had considered the likelihood that Calis wanted to avoid
Tareth’s eventual decline into whatever Lavus had become.  In fact, Calis had
made admissions that effectively confirmed this belief, but Lee wished that
Calis could understand that people could not be changed so fundamentally. 
Especially when Lavus took part in Tareth’s rearing.  That Calis had turned out
as he had was, in itself, a miracle. 

“You would like to be,” Kilik said, and it was not a
question.  The boy was biting his lip at once, as though he had just treaded
into territory that he knew was better left untouched.  But, he was in that
territory, and Lee was certain that Calis would not let him out of it.

There was a gentle smile on Calis’s face, and Lee couldn’t
hope to understand what was going through the prince’s mind.  He hated this. 
He had become so used to knowing precisely what the eldest Tsrali was thinking,
but under Kilik’s influence, Calis was unpredictable.  Decidedly, Lee stood. 
“I should go,” Lee informed the two of them brusquely.

They both started, as if shocked that he was still in the
tavern with them.  They would be even more surprised to find out that the
little red-haired girl was also listening to every word they said.  By Lee’s
measure, he had done them both a favor.  “Will you return to the castle?” Calis
asked.

With a shrug, Lee glanced towards the door.  He wasn’t sure
where he would go, but he did not like being a spectator in an exchange of
which he could not foresee the ending.  More kindly, Calis deserved some time
alone with his fondness.  “I’m not sure.  I might go to the healer’s,” he said
solicitously, “would you be interested in going with me, miss?”  He turned to
glance at the conflicted girl.

Her flush confused him, but he decided not to worry much
about it.  For now, he wanted to get out of this tavern.  She should probably
also be relieved from the situation, as well.  “I… I, yes, thank you, sir.”

She hurried to his side, and in her blue eyes, he saw a
flash of gratitude.  He just nodded faintly and started towards the door.  “I
will see you soon, my friend,” Lee said quickly to Calis.

“Indeed,” Calis answered.

As they left the tavern, Lee couldn’t help but be aware of
how extraordinarily close to him that Katt walked. 

What an odd girl.

“The kingdoms were divided, and so too were the
princes.”

-A Hero’s Peace, v.ii

Getting Kilik to sit down again was quite the ordeal, as the
young man seemed to take it as a submission of his free will.  As it was, Calis
was working not to think about Kilik submitting to him in anyway.  That was
unsafe, he thought.  Eventually, though, Kilik sat down on one of the benches
with a mystified expression.

“I appreciate it, Kilik,” Calis said as he took a seat next
to the boy.  He had said many, many thanks to Lee after his advisor had left. 
Somehow, without actually knowing, Lee seemed to always understand when Calis
needed him to go.  Now, though, the prince was alone with Kilik, and the desire
rushing through his system was making him nauseous.

The blue-eyed man hadn’t had much to say since Katt and Lee
had left, in fact, he had been contented to stare into nothingness.  Calis felt
frustration and affection coexisting within him far better than the two ever
should.  “I am trying to determine whether I anger or fluster you,” Calis said
aloud.  That, he had been trying to figure out for some time.

“Both,” Kilik answered obligingly.  “I do not trust you,” he
said flatly.  “You have no reason to be around me unless you suspect me of
something.  If you do, your highness, then I implore you to interrogate and
search me.  I have nothing to hide.”

That was a lie, and they both knew it, but Calis wasn’t
attempting to get Kilik to open up to him about those things just yet.  For
now, he simply wanted Kilik to know that those things weren’t the reason he was
here.  “I have no interest in what you are hiding, sir.  Well, that is a lie. 
I am very, very curious about you.  But, that is not why I am here.”

There was the slightest of flushes on the boy’s cheeks, and
Calis felt a smile creeping onto his own face.  “How can I convince you?” Calis
asked inquisitively. “There is nothing I will not do.”

“Why do you want to convince me, prince?” Kilik asked, and
his voice was nothing short of a hiss.  That suspicious nature—it seemed so strange
for this boy—as though he didn’t know precisely how to go about implementing
it. 

Calis sighed.  “I don’t know.”

Kilik’s eyes softened, though he seemed almost as though he
didn’t want them to.  “I apologize.  You have done much for me, and I know I
must come across as ungrateful.  You are just… you must understand that to
someone like me, you are very dangerous.” 

The thought struck Calis as entirely disgusting.  The fact
that he could be dangerous in any way to this man horrified him.  He could not
imagine hurting Kilik—he absolutely couldn’t.  The thought frightened and
paralyzed him.  But, the thought was not untrue—his mere position was
threatening to Kilik. 

“Apologies, but that is the truth.  Your brother has…”  Kilik’s
voice trailed.

“I am not my brother,” Calis said softly.  “I realize
though… that who I am may be strange—threatening.  I realize that my family has
a reputation, and trusting me could certainly be considered foolish.”

“And yet I find myself wanting to trust you,” Kilik said warily. 
His blue eyes sparked with worry.  Their color was so vibrant, Calis noticed, a
thousand blues poured into a single iris.  So many colors combined to make one,
pure blue. 

Calis’s heart hammered at the idea of Kilik being unable to
distrust him.  Surely, that had to count for something, though the easiness
with which Kilik surrendered himself sent a flash of protectiveness through
Calis.  “You see the good in people too easily,” Calis said reluctantly.  “Even
when it is not there.”

The blue eyes flashed with hesitation.  Calis certainly
sounded then like someone who was trying to warn the young man away from
himself.  “No one helped you,” Calis whispered suddenly.  “Do you have any idea
what they would have done to you?”  Calis spoke with a heated tone that he was
sure he shouldn’t be using. 

Kilik seemed dismayed at the abrupt turn that the
conversation had taken.  “That was not due to my trusting anyone prematurely. 
Those nobles sought me out.  I did everything I could.”

“I don’t mean the nobles,” Calis snarled.  “The nobles are
clearly uncouth belligerents.  Why should you trust people like that?  No, I’m
talking about the people of Dark District.  The ones you seem to value so
highly.  They did nothing—I know we’ve talked about this before.  But, seeing
you like that…”  Calis didn’t need to say that he was thinking both of the sun
Kilik had been in danger and the sun the Phantom Blade had.  “The bloody
blacksmith wouldn’t even give me a sword.”

This entire speech seemed to have Kilik reeling.  Whatever
the young man had been thinking before, he was obviously reconsidering it. 
“The blacksmith didn’t trust that you were going to help…”  Then, he froze.

Their eyes locked, and Kilik’s lips pressed into a thin
line.  The sun with the blacksmith had not been the sun Kilik was injured, and
they both knew that.  “Wh-why were you getting a sword from the blacksmith,
regardless?  Y-you… why would the blacksmith give you a sword—you were a
noble
?” 
The panic in those blue eyes was excruciating.  He tried to reconstruct his
statement—to pretend that they were not talking about the same incident.

But, as Calis had already determined, he wasn’t here on this
sunless shift in this tavern to make Kilik miserable.  “No,” Calis said
lightly, “I tried to get a sword from the blacksmith to help the Phantom Blade
a few suns before your incident.”

“Ah,” Kilik said, pretending to be surprised.  He didn’t do
a very good job of it, Calis noted.  That panic was still terrorizing his eyes
unendingly.  “W-well, he still may not have understood your reasoning.”

Kilik was furious with himself.  Calis felt a surge of
triumph.  He must have had some kind of effect on Kilik to cause all of his
inhibitions to drop in the way that they had.  Calis hoped that this was
because of him—and not because Kilik trusted everyone so readily.  “I cannot
stop thinking about you.  I cannot stop worrying about you,” Calis said
suddenly.

This time, the red of Kilik’s cheeks was far more obvious. 
The bronze of his skin, which usually did a little for disguising Kilik’s
embarrassment, seemed to highlight it this time.  “What?” Kilik spat.  “You
don’t know me.  You presume to make all these declarations of affection when we
know nothing of one another.  I think you are simply a sexually repressed
child.”

The statement was not true, and Calis wanted Kilik to know
this—but he couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled to his lips at Kilik’s
choice of insult.  How cute.  “A sexually repressed child?” Calis echoed.  “I
assure you that if I wanted to declare affections to anyone that there are many
women who would be easier targets.”

“None that you get the glorious opportunity to chase,” Kilik
said emphatically.

“You know nothing of court if you think that none of the
women there offer up a suitable chance for chasing.”  There was a flash of
remembrance in those blue eyes, and then Kilik looked away. 

Calis thought, and he chose his next words with precision. 
“Though, none of the women in court have the kind, selfless nature that you
seem to possess.  Nor do any of them contain your bravery and wit, or the very
unique way you seem to have of making everything you do frustratingly
endearing,” Calis ticked off his reasons solemnly, as if Kilik had caught him
in the act of something that he shouldn’t do.

Another flash in those blue eyes, and this one was of very
serious irritation.  He glared away.  “You don’t know me well enough to assume
that I have any of those qualities.  You see only what you want to see.”

“I see a young man with an injured leg, who came here
knowing it would rain to collect funds to support a family that isn’t his.  I
see a man who wants to keep his promise of venturing into the rain again to a
foolish young girl who doesn’t know that he is still injured.  I see a man who
refused to give up purchased items to nobles, knowing that he would be beaten
or worse for it, because he worried that the person who requested them would
want for something.”  Calis didn’t even need to cite the fact that Kilik put on
a mask and risked his life for people that he didn’t know every sun.  What he’d
said was enough. 

The blue eyes flickered with reluctance.  They darted about
the room, trying to find anything that would distract him from what had just
been said.  Calis had just given him irrefutable proof that he was, to some
extent, desirable.  “And that makes you… affectionate towards me?”

“Yes,” Calis answered simply.  “I apologize if that is
inconvenient.”

“You are odd, your highness.  You dress up as a commoner,
avoid balls in your honor, and you have dirtied your hands to help people many
times.  I don’t want to trust you for what you are, as it conflicts with
everything a Tsrali is.”  Then, Kilik flushed.  “Though, I suppose that is
unfair of me.  I have never seen you until recently, and every time you have
helped me in some way.”

“My brother has effectively balanced that out, I would
wager,” Calis answered.  Kilik was still looking away, and Calis moved his hand
to the boy’s cheek, bringing their eyes into one another.  “I say this
truthfully, Kilik.  If you want me to leave you alone, I will not bother you
anymore.  If you are afraid of me, then tell me, and I will go.  I will not
bother you again.”

The moment was tense, and Calis thought he felt Kilik
trembling just slightly under the tips of his fingers.  “I…”  Kilik choked. 
“Go, then.  Go.  I don’t want… I don’t want you here.  I can’t do this.”  The
words were simple, though they did seem to cause Kilik a great deal of pain to
say.  His eyes flickered with steely resolve, though.

Calis closed his eyes, determined to keep good on his promise. 
After all, their relationship was the nonsense of fairy tales, he told
himself.  Pain lanced through him, though, and his heart twisted and felt as
though it might implode on itself.  He stood abruptly.  “I understand,” he
said, and tried to keep his voice steady.  “I will never be able to express to
you the pleasure of meeting you, Kilik.”

The boy was uncertain, and Calis knew that, but he wasn’t
about to take advantage of it.  All he’d have to do, he thought, was say the
right amount of charming words—and Kilik would break, telling him that he
wanted him to stay.  But, no, he would not do that—he wanted Kilik only if
Kilik wanted him with no pushing.  “Goodbye,” he said, without dramatics. 

With a firm resolve of his own, Calis turned to the tavern
door.  The walk back through the rain was not going to be enjoyable, he thought. 
It would certainly match the way he felt.  He hadn’t thought his heart capable
of feeling so much—of feeling so raw, as if someone had beaten it and ground it
over sand.

Though, a moment before he pushed the door to the tavern
open, a frantic voice pierced his determined resolution.  “W-wait,” Kilik
cried.  Calis knew from the distance of the voice that Kilik had gotten to his
feet.  “I trust you.  I… don’t want you… to go.”

Calis turned with a curious expression.  He worked to keep a
premature smile from his lips.  “Are you certain, Kilik?”

“I think, I mean… yes.  Yes, I am sure.”

For a few moments, Calis kept standing at the door.  He
didn’t know whether or not he should return.  After all, Kilik had told him to
leave.  He had no way of knowing that Kilik hadn’t simply changed his mind
because he didn’t possess the ability to be so unkind.  “Come back,” Kilik
whimpered.  “You are the only person who… I…”  He paused, fighting the words. 
“Please.”

There was certainly no way that Calis could leave if Kilik
had given himself over to begging.  There was sincerity in those blue eyes,
though.  Kilik was afraid, but he believed in the choice he was making.  Calis
turned around fully and took a few steps back into the tavern.  He would stay,
he thought, if only to figure out the end of that sentence.  That would be his
official reason, and he wouldn’t mention that Kilik’s whimpered words were the
saddest, most heart-wrenching sounds he’d ever heard.  “Why the change of
heart?”  Calis asked irreverently.

“You were going to leave,” Kilik said.  “You were going to
leave because you thought I didn’t want you here.  That was… you are… I have
never had to deal with someone like you, your highness.”

“Calis.” Calis ventured.

“We’ll get there,” Kilik mumbled.  “The rain’s stopped,” he
pointed out.  “I am going to get Alyx’s ribbon and bread.  Would you like to
come with me?”

“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”

They left the tavern, Calis letting Kilik walk a few paces
in front of him.  The boy was right about the rain, though the gray sky told
that there may be more to come.  Calis made a note to get Kilik back to his
house before that happened.  They headed towards the market in silence, more
comfortable than it had been that sun on the horse. 

Kilik walked with the most unperceivable of limps.  The only
reason Calis was able to distinguish that he was limping was the occasional
blaze of pain in the blue irises.  Kilik’s eyes, Calis had quickly determined,
told more about him than should ever be readily available.  “Why are you
watching me so intensely?” Kilik asked.

“You are limping,” Calis answered honestly.  He knew better
than to extend his help to Kilik, though, as it would be rebuked—and Kilik
would certainly get that indignant expression that he wore so charmingly.

There was a momentary pause in their walking as Kilik seemed
to suffer some internal turmoil.  “Is it obvious?” he asked miserably.

“I hardly think that is relevant,” Calis snapped, “the
imperative fact is that you are making your injury worse.  Or, at the very
least, you are slowing down your recovery.  But no, it isn’t obvious.”  His
words were dry, and he had a distinct feeling that Kilik would ignore all
words, save the last ones.