Van Laven Chronicles (14 page)

CHAPTER 25

For a moment, there was nothing but silence between the two men, so similar in appearance—more like twin brothers displaced by time, than father and son. Not surprising considering that Crausin fathered Comron when he himself was merely a young teenager. It had amused Comron to think that looking at his father was like looking at himself in perhaps five to ten years’ time. And it pleased him greatly to know that he inherited the same genes that kept the signs of age at bay so well.

“The specialists have assured me that you’re well in both mind and body, despite your ordeal on Patheis, and yet you hardly seem yourself since your return,” Crausin said from across the great mahogany desk that had been in their family for five generations. His expression was earnest and unusually paternal. “I’m worried about you, Com.”

Relieved that Crausin hadn’t launched into a lecture over his recent treatment of Spira, Comron relaxed a smidgen in the large high-backed chair.

“Doctor Brewsmen was quite thorough in the psychological assessment,” Comron answered evenly. “You should trust his findings.”

His father fixed him with a marked look of skepticism. “I do to the extent that they don’t conflict with my own instincts. Doctor Brewsmen doesn’t have the advantage of our history.”

Comron held up under the scrutiny of his father’s gaze, maintaining the mental barrier that would keep Vaush walled off from Crausin’s penetrating mind sweep. Even now, Comron felt him diligently searching for answers.

“Have you received word from the governance council?” Comron asked, attempting to deflect the Duke’s path when he veered too close to Patheis.

The smile the question produced failed to reach Crausin’s eyes. “Official word came, but you know it was a mere a formality to initiate the vetting process.”

“Still, no Nethicaen monarch has ever accomplished such a feat.” His ingratiating tone sounded nauseating even to his own ears.

“Yes…you said as much when we left the banking conference assured of the bid,” Crausin replied with a hint of irritation in his voice. “Comron, something is obviously troubling you. Level with me so I might help you.”

With Crausin too impatient to wait for his reply, Comron could feel the inner recesses of his mind being violated as the doors opened and closed one after the other, moving inexorably closer to Vaush. Only one thing would be powerful enough to throw him off the trail.

“I don’t want to marry Spira Eskridge,” he announced boldly.

Crausin sighed heavily but otherwise betrayed little emotion as Spira had likely wasted no time informing him of Comron’s stinging affront. “You state the obvious,” he said evenly, “Why?”

“Because I want you to consider a new path in our pursuit of a board seat.”

Crausin looked askance. “We should be discussing the latest intelligence we’ve gathered on Lugen’s covert activities and my plan to trap him. But please, by all means, let’s discuss your wedding instead.”

“Lugen has made three attempts on my life, Crausin. Nobody wants to nail his carcass to the wall more than I do. But the wedding takes place in a week and therefore demands immediate attention.” Comron produced a comp-pad from his pocket and tapped the glossy surface, the visuals sprang to life hovering just above it. “In the Reyal Baddel sector, we could acquire Gelmere Inter-planetary Bank, Casraq Consortium, and Zeriston Reliant, which would increase our deposit holdings by more than 30%. And we could acquire them at the same price we’re offering Eskridge.”

Crausin listened with a mild look of astonishment on his face as the holographic visuals moved around at Comron’s bidding.

But Comron was undeterred. “All three of these entities possess a shared desire to expand into new markets but lack the capital requirements to fund their interests abroad. I know which of them would be willing to sell outright, as opposed to requesting a leadership role in the new organization. I’ve run all the numbers; I can put them before the principal barrister by the close of business and we could have a deal before them tomorrow.”

Crausin turned away with a disheartened look as if greatly disappointed in how Comron had spent his time since returning from Patheis. “Com, your wedding is one week away, and we have an ironclad contract with house Eskridge.”

“This wouldn’t be the first time a wedding was called off at the last hour.”

“Just how hard did you hit your head in the crash?” Crausin chuckled. “We are not having this conversation.”

Comron’s green eyes grew dark and his jaw set firmly. “I am
not
going through with this wedding. The sooner we inform the Duchess of Garonne, the less pain there’ll be.”

“This is madness, Com. We’ll do no such thing.” He rose from his chair and came from behind the desk to stand next to Comron. “Now when did this bloody notion pop into your head?”

Comron looked him dead in the eyes. “The idea has been steadily forming ever since the day I found you jousting Spira’s throat with your cock.”

Crausin’s expression soured. “You would have preferred discovering she was a whore
after
the wedding?”

“I’d prefer it if you weren’t the one she’d been whoring with.”

Crausin scoffed. “We’ve shared most of our women, why should she be any different?”

“We don’t share our
wives
!”

“Only because
my wife
happens to be your mother,” Crausin said with only a hint of judgment. “But if she were not, I wouldn’t withhold her from you. So tell me truthfully, why are we rehashing ancient history?”

“You’d be amazed at how much clarity and perspective one gains when plunging toward the ground in a busted transport.”

Crausin pushed off the desk and headed toward the bar. “Did your little epiphany overlook the fact that we need Eskridge?”

“Haven’t you heard a word that I’ve said?” Comron demanded, following him over. “I’ve laid out a new strategy that doesn’t include their holdings.”

“At this late hour, your proposal is untenably risky.” Crausin poured a glass of brandy. “Why are you trying to derail our plans when we are so close to achieving our goals?”

“Why are you forcing me into this wretched marriage when there is a viable alternative?”

“I won’t allow you to gamble on Nethic’s future with this half-baked plan of yours.”

“The deal is ready to be placed before the respective parties. All I need is your consent to move forward.”

“No, Comron—”

“I’ve queried the barrister governor’s office and they have confirmed that if we proceed immediately—”

“You overstepped your bounds.” Crausin poured anther drink. “I never gave you the authority to make those calls.”

“I needed to know if it was even possible before presenting the plan to you.”

Crausin downed his drink in a single gulp. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to marry Spira for the good of Nethic. That’s final.”

“No, I refuse!”

“Frithe’s gates, Com. I’ll never take her to bed again. Your eyes have been sufficiently opened to what she is.”

Comron’s face twisted in disgust. “Bend the slut every night for all I care, just as long as I don’t have to!”

Crausin groaned aloud. “Wasn’t it enough that your little Patheis excursion took twenty years off my life? And now this?”

“Release me from the betrothal and I will never give you another moment’s trouble.” He grabbed Crausin’s arm and entreated him. “I’m begging you. Don’t force me to marry her.”

Crausin looked deep into Comron’s eyes and his tone grew heavy with menace. “Perhaps if you tried telling me the truth I’d be persuaded to consider your business proposal.”

Comron briefly averted his eyes. “I’ve told you my reasons.”

“What? That you suddenly don’t
feel
like marrying her anymore? This marriage alliance has absolutely nothing to do with feelings,” Crausin said angrily. “It has everything to do with duty and obligation. I married to save our house from destitution and you will marry to gain our seat on the reserve board.”

“We can still—”

“Enough!” The color rose in Crausin’s cheeks. “You will do as your Duke commands!”

Comron’s heart thumped madly and his chest constricted under the pressure. He felt as if he’d been thrust deeper into his gilded cage. Vaush would never consent to be his mistress. Like Grantham, he would become just another casualty of Vaush’s lofty principles, lying there run through by the broadsword of her virtue.

“If you force me to do this,” Comron said in a grating tone. “I’ll never forgive you for as long as I live. Oath be damned!” he spat.

Crausin looked as if he’d been mortally wounded. “Com…you don’t mean—”

“The hell I don’t. I should’ve had the good sense to die on Patheis,” he proclaimed before storming toward the door.

CHAPTER 26

Crausin hurried after Comron and slammed the door shut, preventing him from leaving. “What in the devil has gotten into you? You’re not going anywhere until I hear truth.”

“I have told you.”

“You’re lying to me!” Crausin growled, teetering on the edge of sanity.

Comron backed away, unnerved by the warning tone that preceded Edred’s daunting presence. When Crausin slipped into that mode, the insanity could only be quelled by extreme measures.

“What has given you the temerity to speak to me with such impudence?” Crausin’s expression was dark and his tone equally so. “What could have possibly compelled you to turn on me this way?”

Comron could feel the specter of Edred lurking in the shadows, aching to strike out violently against him. “I’ll do my duty, Sire,” he said, lowering his eyes. “As you command.”

But Crausin’s eyes already glistened with madness. “Oh, I have no doubt you will do as your Duke commands. But first you will confess your transgression.” He took a threatening step closer. “I will have the truth out of you one way or the other.”

All at once, Comron saw himself at seventeen again, locked away in the cellar with a violently deranged madman. Fear and loathing gripped him, for he knew that as an adept fighter, he could overtake Crausin and escape the study, but only to face a squadron of armed guards on the other side of the door. Once again, he would be thrust back into the south wing cellar and left to the whims of ‘Edred’s’ sadistic mercy.

“Forgive me, Crausin. I will end it,” Comron said in a small voice.

The anger broiling in his father’s face fell into anguish at the confession.

“Who is she?” he said just above a whisper.

“I will end it, and then that won’t matter.”

“Won’t matter?” Crausin hollered. “You were willingly to compromise Nethic over her!” He seized Comron. “Who is she? What is her name?”

Comron tried to break Crausin’s grip, though the Duke’s berserk strength made it difficult.

“It’s not her fault. I’m the one to blame,” Comron pleaded.

Crausin cracked Comron across the face with the back of his hand. “Didn’t Edred’s lesson teach you anything? The girl pays!” He slammed Comron against the wall. “What is her name?” he bellowed.

Comron felt his father’s mind probing deeper into his, searching for the name his son refused to surrender. He could feel himself losing the battle; Crausin’s mind had always been stronger than his.

“Countess Emilia Brimfell,” Comron lied, yet she was still a memory Crausin could search out and verify as a recent tryst of his.

Crausin grabbed his face and squeezed it. “You’re still lying!”

“No, we started seeing each other at the start of the fall festivals. We were going to end it before the wedding, but after I returned from Patheis, she decided she could not part with me, and insisted that I marry her instead.”

Crausin released his grip. “What?”

“She threatened to go to you if I didn’t call off the wedding,” Comron lied as the Duke continued to breathe fire, his face twisting in derision.

“How did you allow that pinched faced bitch to manipulate you this way? You’re smarter than this.”

“I know now that I should have come to you with it, but after Patheis my mind was a mess. I-I panicked.”

Comron thought he saw a glimpse of empathy in Crausin’s eyes. Had he succeeded in holding Edred at bay? Comron held his silence, awaiting the verdict.

“What you’ve done is completely reprehensible on so many levels, but I should make allowances for your recent trauma. All will go according to schedule and we will never speak of this again.”

Comron could take no pleasure in the small victory. “Thank you for your understanding and compassion.” He tried to ignore the harrowing wailing inside as he felt Vaush slipping through his fingers, the pain was crushing.

Crausin staggered back against the desk as if he had been assaulted. His eyes narrowed in disbelief. “You
love
her.”

A dreadful fear came over Comron as he realized that in his enormous grief, he’d let his mental guard down.

Crausin’s expression soured incredulously. “Emilia Brimfell? Really?”

Comron’s emotions turned cold at the mention of her name and his expression registered his indifference toward the woman.

Observing this, Crausin’s eyes burned with rage and indignation. “You no more love Emilia Brimfell than you love Spira!”

Closing his eyes, Comron raised his mental defenses and prepared himself for the physical assault that was sure to come. There was only one comfort to him now. Vaush wouldn’t suffer, her identity remained hidden.

“I will permit you until the end of the week to end this accursed affair,” Crausin said.

Shocked, Comron stared cautiously at him in silence.

“End it or I will end her. Do I make myself clear?”

Comron nodded, unsure of what to make of Crausin’s unprecedented rationality. When he started to speak, Crausin cut him off. “I don’t want to hear another word out of your putrid lying mouth. Get out of my sight!” Crausin barked, jamming a finger toward the double doors.

Before the Duke could change his mind or Edred could come forth, Comron made haste from the room and didn’t stop until he arrived safely at his apartments and locked the doors behind him. Left with no other choice, he began to conspire as to how he could permanently rid himself of Spira before their dreaded wedding day.