| |
Yandro did his best not to display the mixture of awe, pride, and lingering incredulity at being included among those who ranged themselves on either side of the altar. He resisted the urge to pinch himself to make sure he was not dreaming.
As Rohyr lowered the adamant-adorned, white-silver coronet upon Lassen’s golden head, Yandro glanced down the line to where Jareth stood by the side of his half-brother, Tenryon Hadrana, Herun of Ziana.
The two did not look the least bit alike at first sight. Tenryon was as fair-headed, indigo-eyed and sinewy of form as Jareth was dark-haired, brilliant of gaze and strapping in body. But on closer inspection, one could see similarities in their impressive heights, the shape of their eyes and noses, and the set of their jaws. And of course, both were more handsome than any Deir had a right to be, their attractiveness further complicated by the sensual appeal they exuded without even trying.
The elliptical earrings on their left ears identified them as siblings. The crest of Ziana was delicately engraved in the gold pieces above the emblems of their stations—herunic sapphire in Tenryon's and emerald in Jareth's as befitted a fief-lord's brother. Clad in cunningly embroidered court tunics and silk mantles fastened at their right shoulders with small bejeweled clasps and with the silver circlets of their social stations upon their heads, the brethren were stunning to behold.
Pondering his unexpectedly lengthy tenure as Jareth’s aide, Yandro focused his gaze on the ambassador. He was not quite certain whether it was a blessing or curse that he’d survived two years in the latter’s service in spite of all the temptations of said service and the Deir he served.
Jareth chose that moment to look at him. The corners of his mouth quirked upward in a rakish smile and he winked at Yandro. Warmth flooded Yandro’s cheeks at being caught ogling his superior and he forced his gaze front and center, swearing under his breath and promising himself not to let his attention wander again.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Vaidon-dyhar. He is most pleasing to the eye.”
Yandro caught his breath and glanced at the Deir beside him—Josel, Lassen’s head retainer. The elderly attendant had been in royal service since his early youth, having started out as part of the previous Ardis’ personal staff and going on to tend to Rohyr from his adolescence onward until he was appointed Lassen’s body servant.
Loyal almost to a fault, Josel had foregone marriage and children and devoted himself to the royal family’s service. He was treated more like a relation than someone in the Ardan’s employ. Thus he had leave to speak rather familiarly to Rohyr’s friends and kin though he was always mindful of his manners and made sure to address them with due courtesy.
“I shouldn’t have looked his way in the first place,” Yandro murmured, keeping his eyes trained on Rohyr and Lassen as the latter uttered his vows of duties and obligations. “It isn’t meet to be inattentive at a coronation.”
Josel softly chuckled. “Lassen-dyhar would be the first to chide you for thinking his elevation so important as to preclude an occasional glance elsewhere.”
“But his elevation is of greatest import,” Yandro countered. “He’s the first commoner in centuries to marry into the royal family and the first Half Blood ever to be crowned Ardis. Verily, Their Majesties have narrowed the gap between the castes and classes as has never been done before.”
Only once before had a sedyr wed into the royal family, but that had been through a morganatic marriage. He had not been named a royal consort and it was only because there had been no other valid heirs that his eldest son had succeeded his sire as Ardan.
“I don’t contest that,” Josel amiably replied. “But Lassen-dyhar sees this as the culmination of fortuitous events rather than anything he personally accomplished. Thus he wouldn’t care to impose rigid rules of behavior on anyone just for show.”
The retainer smiled fondly at his master as the new Ardis rose to his feet and allowed his royal spouse to turn him around to face the congregation. Wild applause and many a cheer echoed in the massive chamber and soon after a faint roar could be heard from outside the temple doors as the crowds outside voiced their joy and approval of Lassen’s crowning as well as his marriage to Rohyr Essendri prior to the coronation.
“Besides, he is of a mind to seek the same happiness he has gained for all those close to his heart,” Josel added. “He won’t actively play matchmaker; that isn’t at all his way. But he won’t stand a hindrance if romance is in the offing and would even give aid if he deems it necessary.”
Yandro stared a little thunderstruck at the servant. Romance? Whence the notion and out of the blue to boot? But Josel only smiled more widely, his eyes on the royal couple once more. Yandro returned his attention to them likewise and realized Rohyr had drawn Lassen into a kiss not ordinarily meant for public viewing. With some envy, he noted their easy intimacy and the way they had eyes only for each other despite being surrounded by a virtual throng.
“Would that all Deira could be as blessed with such a love as theirs,” Josel happily commented. “Don’t you agree, Vaidon-dyhar?”
Yandro managed a small smile before he averted his gaze from Josel’s much-too-observant gaze. He wondered if the retainer had seen something in his eyes when he’d looked at Jareth and come to the conclusion that Yandro had romantic designs on the ambassador.
Well, Josel would not be too far off the mark. Yandro’s infatuation with Jareth had admittedly grown deeper than he liked. But he refused to become further attached to Jareth or allow himself to be seduced. An affair with his superior would only end in trouble and heartache all around. Nonetheless, he’d somehow revealed enough of his feelings for Josel to glimpse them.
Yandro shook his head. This would not do at all. He had to master his expressions if he was to keep from broadcasting his thoughts and feelings to all and sundry and worst of all to the Deir those thoughts and feelings centered on the most.
––––––––
The nuptial feast that followed in the great reception hall of the Citadel was everything Rohyr’s first wedding celebration had not been. It did not exceed the former in opulence or sheer length of the guest list. Rohyr would never insult his Uncle Imcael or cousins of Qimaras Mahael and Ronuin by holding a much-grander reception for his second marriage. Nay, the difference lay in Rohyr’s celebratory mood this time around, or so Yandro gathered from conversation with folk who’d attended the previous reception.
He observed the royal couple and Rohyr in particular. When they took their places to lead the traditional wedding jig, many observed Rohyr’s marked enthusiasm, so unlike the first time when he’d done so seemingly out of duty rather than desire. This became even more apparent as the dance progressed.
The two almost never broke eye contact. And the way Rohyr regarded Lassen—he was obviously looking forward to the consummation rite later in the evening. Considering this would not be the first time they would couple, his eagerness to bed his mate spoke volumes of the love behind his lust.
Again, such a contrast from his behavior with his first consort. Not a few had noted how he’d searched for Lassen before leaving the nuptial feast with Tyrde then. Almost pleadingly, several asserted. As if he was asking for his then leman’s forgiveness. Well, there was none of that tension now. Or rather, it was tension of a different sort and so very delightful to watch unfurl.
The various comments served to verify Yandro’s suspicions and misgivings at the time of the Ardan’s ill-starred first marriage. He had not come into close or frequent contact with the late Tyrde Kardova. He and Jareth presented themselves just once at court and this had been after they’d helped Rohyr locate Lassen and spirit him away to the safety of a remote estate in the seaward fief of Glanthar. That one time had been more than enough to make Yandro sympathize with Rohyr and Lassen and support their continued affair, even to setting aside his aversion to adulterous liaisons.
As a child of an extramarital union who’d been abandoned to the care of others right after his birth, Yandro was no advocate of such relationships. But in that one instance of recognition of true love shunted aside for a dutiful and onerous binding, he’d made an exception.
Recalling Rohyr’s unhappiness and the distinct lack of affection and intimacy between him and his consort, Yandro could understand the difference in the Ardan’s emotional state then and now. He soon got an even more precise idea of just how much this second union meant to his king.
He had just taken leave of Ambassador Riodan Leyhar and his veteran diplomat sire Theron when the Ardan beckoned to him to approach. Yandro took a deep, calming breath as he walked to the couple.
The wonder and disbelief surrounding his relationship with Rohyr had never truly vanished, it merely abated somewhat in the wake of his appointment as Jareth’s aide. Those who could not comprehend or accept their sovereign taking a penniless sedyr of unknown origins under his wing continued to regard Yandro with puzzlement and not a little suspicion. The idea of a sexual liaison finally died when it became clear the only Deir Rohyr wanted in his bed was Lassen.
Still, the thought that some believed something inappropriate had occurred in the early stages of Rohyr’s patronage rankled. And it stung to this day though none gave voice to their suspicions, which were betrayed mainly by the speculative, often disdainful manner in which they regarded him whenever Rohyr paid him attention.
As he neared them, he relaxed his shields slightly and at once felt nigh overwhelming joy and possessiveness radiate from the Ardan. Alongside these were the vestiges of a terrible hunger only recently appeased.
Strange, Yandro thought. It wasn’t merely a lover’s yearning for union with his loved one finally answered. The lingering feelings were tinged with such pain and desperation that he could only liken it to what one might experience when sustenance finally returned to the land after a lengthy famine or drought.
What in Aisen could have wrought such anguish on His Majesty? And what has occurred that he seems not only healed of it, but grown whole and hale once more?
The utter tenderness of Rohyr’s gaze whenever he trained it on his consort partly answered the second question. Yandro could not begin to guess what had been behind Rohyr’s secret malaise, but he did not doubt Lassen had been part of if not the actual remedy.
He bowed his head to the couple as soon as he stood before them, allowing his joy to show in his wide smile. Let those idiots who imagined him jealous or resentful of being supplanted wonder if they’d been harboring absurd notions all these years. He also extended his felicitations loudly enough to be heard by those nearby, but not so voluble as to be deemed impolite or unschooled. Hopefully, his demeanor would put further speculation to rest. He did not count on Lassen to bolster his intentions.
“I didn’t get to properly thank you, Yandro-min,” Lassen said, gracing him with a grateful smile and affectionate gaze. His use of the diminutive form of address, a sign of familiarity and acceptance, did not go unnoticed by the many eavesdroppers. Yandro wondered if it had been deliberate. If so, he knew himself even more indebted to his royal patrons. “Had you not lent us your aid, events may have played out otherwise.”
“I’m honored, Your Majesty,” Yandro murmured. “But verily I played only a small role in it. Lord Jareth and Master Sarvan did so much more for you.”
“In the actual saving of my life and our child’s, perhaps,” Lassen agreed. “But ’twas you who recognized the import of Rohyr’s anger then.”
He cast Rohyr a fond and knowing glance.
“It was at your urging that Jareth decided to accompany me,” Rohyr pointed out. “Had Jareth not done so, I would have been alone when Las nearly lost our child. In my panic, I didn’t consider lending him strength to stave off the miscarriage long enough for a healer to reach him. Much less did I think to summon Eiren forthwith.”
“And when you eased my ama’s fears, you discovered the cause behind my failure to recover,” Lassen added. “If not for you, it might have taken Eiren longer to learn what was needed to awaken me. I understand even a slight delay would have proved fatal. Else Roh wouldn’t have risked his life to rouse me. So you see, Yan, you were as much my savior as the others and I am in your debt.”
“We both are,” Rohyr said. “You have only to ask anything of me and it shall be granted.”
Yandro caught his breath. He’d never imagined himself in the position to demand anything of the Ardan and be confident he would receive it. It was a heady feeling, but also intimidating. What could he ask for that was not too petty as to be beneath Rohyr’s attention, yet not so excessive it would put him in a bad light? Besides, he had everything he could possibly need at the moment.
Lassen whispered something to Rohyr, which made the Ardan nod and chuckle. “There is one exception,” he said. “You may ask anything of me save to appoint you to a position that would remove you from Jareth’s side. I swore I wouldn’t do that when he threatened to resign his position.”
Yandro knew color had flooded his face when his cheeks warmed to an uncomfortable degree.
“Why did Lord Jareth think I would ask such a thing?” he blurted before he could stop himself. Flushing even more fiercely, he hastily added, “I mean, I haven’t been his aide all that long and truth be told I’m quite content with my lot thus far. Another promotion would be much too soon and hardly deserved.”
“Too soon perhaps given your place in the hierarchy, but not undeserved in the least.” Rohyr countered. “You’ve repaid my faith in you time and again. I’ve never regretted bypassing your seniors in favor of your elevation. And as for why Jareth thought you might make such a request— Actually, I don’t believe he does. Rather, I think it’s his way of ensuring I don’t get it into my head to do so.”
He abashed Yandro with a smile that could only be called proud if not downright smug. “It seems you abided my advice so well, it’s spurred him to, shall we say, take a more proprietary interest in you. I suppose it’s only to be expected since you’ve never thrown yourself at him as others have in the past.”
“Common sense dictates prudence in such situations,” Yandro mumbled.
“If it were that common, you wouldn’t be the exception to the rule,” Rohyr remarked. “More like a healthy dose of self-restraint given how obvious your infatuation with him is.”
Yandro looked at him in horror. “Obvious?” he repeated, failing to realize what his failure to deny any attraction to his superior implied.
Lassen shook his head and murmured, “Well, that certainly confirms your priorities. As well as my lord’s contentions.” Apparently taking pity on Yandro, he said, “’Tis not unnatural to nurse an attraction to a handsome Deir and Jareth is certainly a fine example of one. Indeed, ’tis to be expected. What matters is how you handle the situation and thus far you’ve done admirably.”
This soothed Yandro’s nerves a bit and he managed a small smile. “Thank you, Dyhar,” he softly said. “I don’t ever wish to be a source of embarrassment or cause for scandal.” He drew himself up to his full height and met Rohyr’s gaze with as much pride as he could muster. “I’ve only ever wanted to prove my worth to you, Your Majesty.”
Rohyr smiled. “You have and more. And earned the right to any reward you desire save for Jareth’s stipulation.”
Reminded of Jareth’s demand, Yandro felt some warmth return to his cheeks. “I don’t quite know what...” he started to say.
It came to him then, and he wondered why it did so suddenly. He looked hesitantly at Rohyr, uncertain if he had the right to ask such a thing of the Ardan.
“I told you, with that one exception, you may ask for anything,” Rohyr gently reminded him.
Yandro nodded and took another deep breath. He softly said, “If it pleases you, Dyhar, I would very much appreciate it if you would legitimize me and have the details of my birth expunged from the public records.”
In Ylandre, the taint of bastardy remained strong and the prejudice against it was so deep-seated, illegitimate Deira were seldom allowed to serve in government. And even when a by-blow managed to get past this initial barrier, he was inevitably overlooked for advancement no matter the length of his service or how capably he’d served.
That was the main reason Yandro’s appointment within so short a period after leaving university had met much resistance and skepticism. And it would be the basis upon which further elevation within the diplomatic corps would be blocked. Were Rohyr to force a rise in rank for Yandro, it would sow discord among his colleagues and promote resentment against Yandro, which could result in active aggression.
Of course, by-blows had recourse through the courts, but the process was a lengthy and very costly one and only those of means could afford it. Legitimization by royal decree was even less probable, regardless of one’s wealth, but it bested the courts in efficacy. The confirmation of one’s legitimacy by the Ardan was virtually equivalent to having been born to wedded parents.
As far as Yandro knew, Rohyr had exercised this prerogative for just two Deira and these were his half-brother Dylen and Captain Vaeren Henaz, head of the Ardan’s Guard. Yandro would be the third if Rohyr granted his request.
Rohyr shook his head. “It should have been done as soon as you entered service,” he ruefully said. “My apologies for the oversight, Yandro-min.”
He waved away Yandro’s shocked protest at the apology and, with an imperative gesture, summoned the scribe whose duty it was to observe the proceedings and record the guests and events at the reception for posterity. The Deir looked at Yandro in some awe when Rohyr directed him to initiate the legitimization process the following morning. Yandro ignored the scribe's stare and concentrated on keeping his elation from bursting out in the form of an inappropriate cheer or dance.
Legitimization would enforce Yandro’s right to practice his profession and any advancement bestowed upon him in the future. In a matter of days he would no longer be hampered by the circumstances of his birth and would perforce be treated the same as his colleagues.
He had no illusions the prejudiced would still look at him askance, talk behind his back, and cast aspersions on his bloodline or lack of it. But they would no longer be able to use his illegitimacy as a means to hold him back professionally. They would still likely attempt to put him in his place socially, but not as openly before and this would lessen the instances of humiliation such public confrontations exposed him to.
The thought that the chasm between him and Jareth would decrease just a tiny bit he strove to drive from his mind. It would only feed the hope he’d spent the last two years trying to vanquish. He really did not need another load on top of the burden that already weighed down his heart.