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Back in his room later that day, Alik paced the length of his room. Even the ocean outside could not soothe his thoughts and he knew that sooner rather than later, he would have words with his parents about the decisions he already made.
They expected him to keep them abreast of all major decisions especially when it came to what he was thinking, saying, and doing. It was an impossible thing to ask of him and he knew that Edmond and Avelina would not keep it to themselves that Alik informed them both that he would not be picking them.
Even if they did, the knights that were with them would not.
Ataton might not be anything like Grayhaven, but rumors traveled just as quickly here as they did there.
Alik could not think of a way out of what he already committed to before he heard the march of boots down the hall.
“Damn,” he muttered to no one but himself.
Alik straightened his clothes, after having changed back into traditional clothing of the Grayhaven court and insufferably hot but they gave him a sense of control over who he was and what he was doing.
Even if he was flailing as a fish on shore would.
There was a perfunctory knock and Alik wasn’t even given a chance to tell them to come in before King Alexios was throwing the door open and marching in.
He stood there, breathing hard.
Even across the room, Alik could smell the wine on him.
“You are so stupid that you cannot even follow one request,” Alexios snarled.
Alik did not reply. It didn’t matter what he said. Whatever it was, would only sink him deeper and further into this hole he was in already.
“I was just informed that you have already told Prince Edmond and Princess Avelina that you will not be marrying them. What is going through your thick skull, Alik? We are here barely a single day and you are already telling people that you will not be marrying them!” Alexios shouted.
“Avelina is far too young. Edmond has no interest-”
“Neither age nor interest is what matters! How many times must I tell you? If we do not have the protection of their army, the kingdom that I built will be burned out from underneath you!” Spittle flew from Alexios’ mouth and Alik had to restrain himself from looking for help. Usually his mother was here to calm him, Margrave would appear with a smart remark and redirect Alexios’ anger somewhere else, or even his personal guard would intervene.
But no. He was alone. Issat wasn’t even here, gone to the tailor for more suitable clothes for herself.
“The choice remains my own, dear father,” Alik said in a low tone and he didn’t even move out of the way when Alexios lumbered over to him and wrapped a large hand around his throat and tightened.
“Go ahead. Do it. Show your friends what you are really like,” Alik hissed.
Alexios struck him hard enough for Alik to taste blood but he only smiled. “Probably best not to go for the face, father. That’s the part that you are supposed to sell here, remember?”
Alexios threw him to the ground and Alik had a moment to cover his head before his father kicked him hard enough in the ribs that he thought he heard something crack. Just as he drew back to strike him again, there was a loud clatter and the shouts of men. Alik did not dare look up, for fear of something worse than his father beating him.
“This is not your business,” Alexios snarled at someone.
“In my home, everything is my business,” Eamon snarled.
Alik looked up to see Eamon between him and his father, Alexios farther away than he was just a moment ago, and the men behind him picking themselves up off the floor. They looked stunned, out of sorts, and Alik could only imagine Eamon heaving them out of the way.
With the exception of one that was not moving.
“Then let us go speak to your father about how you choose to intervene in my business,” Alexios snapped.
“Yes, let’s. Who do you think he will choose? You? Over his son? And even if he does, where will that get you? Do you think my men will fight for you?” Eamon asked. He looked down at Alik who was struggling to sit up and he wiped at his face. “Come, Your Highness. We do not kneel for people like him.”
With a rough hand, Eamon pulled Alik to his feet and they headed for the door. When the guards attempted to stop them, Eamon smiled.
It looked mad, dangerous, and carefree all at once.
“Come then. I can protect one and fight you all. Would you like to see?” Eamon asked and drew his sword. He slid one leg back and lowered his head, like a bull ready to charge.
“I would like to see,” Alik said, interested. He was bent over his side and though the pain was still rolling through him, he was always ready to see his father's men being beat to the ground.
“My Prince,” Willhelm said from the end of the hall.
Behind him was a contingent of guards.
“Sport it will be,” Eamon declared.
The Grayhaven guards parted.
“Bring my sister to my rooms,” Eamon ordered his guards. “And remove Alexios from my wing. Post a guard. He does not step a foot in here.”
“As you say, Your Highness,” Willhelm said. The contingent halved itself and came for Alexios. They marched him out of the wing and Willhelm gave a hard stare to the remaining guard who scrambled after their king.
The other half posted themselves outside of Eamon’s rooms.
“Well,” Alik said and wiped his face with his sleeve. The creamy white sleeve came away bloody. “That was embarrassing.”
“Sit,” Eamon said and gestured to a chair in front of the window.
Alik sat.
Eamon pulled a chair in front of him and brought a bowl of water to the sill. With a piece of cloth, Eamon wiped the blood from Alik’s face.
“Is he like that often?” Eamon finally asked.
“Yes. But at home, I have guards that answer to me, protect me, even from him. Friends, too, that have mastered the art of not angering him further and drawing him elsewhere. I have yet how to learn how to do that.”
“Perhaps you should take up the study of not angering him further. Not until you are on the throne,” Eamon suggested. His hands were gentle and when he finished, he tipped Alik’s head back and studied his neck in the sunlight. He sighed and Alik repressed a shiver when he felt Eamon’s warm breath on his neck. “You will bruise here,” he said and touched his neck lightly.
“I bruise easily. It is not the first time.”
“As long as I have a say, it will be the last,” Eamon murmured and Alik felt his fingers dance delicately over his neck.
Alik held himself very still, scared to chase away this moment, wanting something that was just out of his reach.
Then there was a knock at the door and Eamon was pulling away and calling for them to come in.
Lissandra stepped in and looked between the two of them. There was some kind of knowledge in her eyes before Eamon was standing and gesturing to the chair.
“Sister, if you would be so kind as to see to our guest,” Eamon said.
“Of course,” she said and sat in the chair. Her fingers traveled over the same bruises of his neck but there was no shiver, nothing for Alik to repress.
She checked his nose, found nothing broken but winced when she looked in his mouth.
“What?” Eamon prompted.
“He is bleeding. The cut is deep,” she reported.
“What are your thoughts?” Eamon asked.
Lissandra studied Alik for a moment. “I will pack it for now but if in the morning it does not look better, I would prefer to stitch it closed.”
“Gods,” Alik muttered.
Lissandra patted his hand. “You are tougher than you appear, Alik. All is well. We are here for you.”
There was a knock at the door and before anyone could reply, the door was opening.
Issat stood there, eyes darting about the room before she saw Alik sitting in the chair, blood flaking on his face and bruises undoubtedly blooming on his throat.
“And where were you?” Alik asked stiffly.
Issat crossed the room and knelt in front of him. “At the tailor.”
“You are to be removed from your post at once.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
“I do not want to see you ever again so long as I live.”
“I will throw myself from the nearest cliff.”
“Take my father with you.”
“As you say,” Issat nodded and wiped at her face. She hated to see Alik like this. Much like Lissandra, she ran her fingers lightly over where he was injured and then pulled him to his feet. Issat knew him better than anyone and she knew better than anyone how to inspect him.
Issat put his arms around her shoulders and hugged him, gently, and he hissed.
“Knew it,” she whispered and stepped away when Lissandra stepped forward. With swift fingers, Lissandra unlaced his tunic and pulled it over his head without even asking him. She instpected his side and sighed.
“Will you lay down?” She asked.
“Do I have a choice?” Alik asked, attempting to lighten the mood. He did not want pity.
Lissandra humored him. “I’m afraid not Your Highness. My brother has been known to help with unruly patients.”
Grimacing, Alik nodded and looked around. “Where?”
“The bed,” Eamon said with a huff.
For the first time since entering the room, Alik looked at it. It was overly large, Alik guessed that it had to be to accomodate Eamon. The four posts had wolves carved into the rich, dark wood and the blankets on top of it were a thick fur that Alik couldn’t identify.
Eamon pulled out a short stool and Alik was grateful that he didn’t have to climb up unassisted. He settled on his back, looked up at the woven canopy and saw yet more wolves sewn into the fabric there.
His left side was closest to the side of the bed and Lissandra stepped up, gently pressed and asked where it hurt. When she was done, she stepped away and shook her head.
“What happened?” She asked Eamon.
“I thought that Alexios hit him and threw him to the floor. I did not see what happened to his side.”
Lissandra turned to Alik who stared resolutely up at the ceiling.
“Alexios kicked him, I’m sure,” Issat said.
Eamon and Lissandra turned to her.
“When Alik defies him, which is a daily occurence, it is one of his favorite forms of punishment,” Issat said.
“But you are there to protect him,” Eamon surmised.
“Me or someone else,” Issat agreed.
“I don’t think anything is broken. Bruised, surely. I will pack it and recommend that you stay here for the evening,” Lissandra said.
“Here?” Alik said and tried to sit up.
“Yes, here,” Lissandra said and pushed him down until he was laying flat once more. “Who would dare enter the Crown Prince’s room?”
Eamon remained silent and Alik wanted to ask him for permission, or if he even agreed to this whole set up, but Lissandra was giving Issat instructions and then she was gone, returned with a new shirt for Alik and then gone once more.
When she returned, there was a black wooden case in her arms, emblazoned with Lissandra’s name and the family crest.
Eamon seated himself at his desk and began to sort through parchment that was left there and Alik wanted to ask him what it was. In times like this, he used books or fiery discussions with his cousin to quiet his mind.
Lissandra soaked a silk wrap in something and Issat hovered over her shoulder, watched her as she worked.
“Would you like to sleep?” Lissandra asked.
Alik thought about it. If he were asleep, his mind would finally quiet.
“I would like that, yes,” he said quietly.
Eamon stood when Lissandra was ready and helped Alik to sit up. She wrapped the clean silk that she soaked in her own mixture around his midsection and then both her and Eamon helped to lay him back down.
It smelled of roses and the woods and something thick and earthy that Alik could not put his finger on.
“Here,” Lissandra said and pressed a small vial in his hand. He tossed it back without a second thought.
“How long-” Alik asked and then the room began to fade at the edges. “Not long at all.”
There was a soft chuckle and someone told him to sleep.
So he closed his eyes and did just that.
***
ISSAT AND EAMON WERE just settling in to stay in the room with Alik when there was another knock at the door, but this time, the person waited for permission before they came in.
Willhelm glanced at Alik on the bed before turning to Eamon. “You have a meeting with Prince Edmond.”
Eamon sighed and looked from Alik to Willhelm. He almost completely forgot about his daily meeting with Edmond concerning their borders.
“I will stay with him, Your Highness,” Issat said. As if Eamon had any doubt.
“As will I and so will Willhelm and Nicolin,” Lissandra said.
“I will?” Nicolin said from the door.
Lissandra looked at him.
“Of course I will. There is no place I would rather be,” Nicolin added hastily and stepped back into the hallway.
“If there is a word of trouble, if Alexios tries to enter-” Eamon began.
“He might try but he will not succeed. I am under direct order that no one but the Crown Prince himself may come or go from this wing,” Willhelm said.
Pursing his lips, Eamon nodded. He glanced once more at Alik, asleep on his bed, and left the room.
***
ONCE IN THE HALLWAY, he headed for the library where he and Edmond met daily. Between the two of them, they kept each other constantly abreast of what was going on within their own borders. Eamon realized that when one of his family married Alik, he would have to expand his council to others he might trust with information to tell him of the northern borders.
He made a note to include that in his conversation with Edmond.
As he rounded a corner, two of his father’s guards ran into him.
Young men, still terrified of Eamon, they both stumbled back and righted themselves, before bowing.
“Your Highness,” the said in unison.
“Excuse me-” Eamon muttered and attempted to step around them.
“Prince Eamon, His Majesty sent us to find you. He bids you come to his chambers at once,” Terric said.
Eamon ground his teeth together. No doubt Alexios ran to his father and told him how Eamon intervened on Alik’s behalf. He did not need this confrontation right now.
“Edmond is in the library. Bring him and his men to me, immediately,” Eamon ordered the other man, Sanson, and watched as he scurried off towards the library. He turned back to Terric and nodded, let him lead the way.
King Therris was waiting in his own sitting room and sure enough, Alexios was sitting next to him, looking like a spoiled child who was denied his favorite toy.
Eamon hated this room more than any other in the castle. It was wall to wall bookcases though Therris read none of the books. He kept them there so that Eamon could not read them without his permission and so that others would think him more intelligent than he actually was. It was almost always kept dark and the thick blue and gold curtains kept the sunlight out.
Sanson led the way and when Eamon stepped in, he couldn’t help but notice all the men in the room were either Grayhaven knights or fiercely loyal to Therris.
Eamon swept the room and let the men feel his gaze as he measured each of them. They were either too old to fight for Eamon, too young to enter his guard, or too inept. Grayhaven knights were laughable.
“Father,” Eamon said.
“Son. I hear there has been excitement in your wing, has there not?” Therris said.
“I suppose you could call it that,” Eamon said diplomatically.
“You suppose?” Alexios asked.
Eamon did not answer.
In the hall, there was the sound of marching soldiers, headed their way.
The men, around Alexios and his father, shifted uncomfortably. Therris looked mildly interested, like he was about to watch his son battle an opponent in a ring for his own amusement.
Edmond led the men in, took up a spot next to his brother and the men lined up behind them both.
“Son. I don’t recall inviting you,” Therris said.
“Eamon did,” Edmond said.
“Of course he did,” Alexios muttered.
“Would you like to tell me what all this is about? Why you have forbidden Alexios from your wing and essentially, barred him from seeing his only son?” Therris asked.
The knights behind the Kings shifted around but the ones behind Eamon remained silent and still. Edmond twitched, an aborted movement like he was going to look to his brother, but stopped himself.
“I care not for how he treats the Crown Prince,” Eamon said.
Therris raised an eyebrow.
Eamon remained silent.
“Tell me, how does he treat his son?” Therris asked.
“By choking him, striking him, and kicking him. It required Lissandra to come and see to him. She worries that he might need to be stitched together,” Eamon said.
None of the knights behind Alexios looked surprised.
“And that is your business why?” Therris asked.
“Because this is my home, he is my guest, and while Alexios is here on my island, he will not raise a hand to Alik,” Eamon said.
“Your home? Your island?” Therris asked and leaned forward. It was probably meant to intimidate Eamon but Eamon had long ago lost any fear of his father.
“Yes,” Eamon said.
“And what am I?” Therris asked.
Eamon would not step into that trap.
“I could take the crown from you for this disrespect,” Therris threatened.
“Do it,” Eamon said.
“You will be without a home, without an island, without anything to your name,” Therris threatened.
“I have other places that I can find a home. And I have men that will follow me,” Eamon replied and looked over his shoulder. “But you will be without your Bladebringer. And who will train your men when I leave?”
“Believe it or not, I have another son,” Therris smirked, like he won the battle.
“I will go with my brother,” Edmond said.
“You will not,” Therris threatened.
“Stop me,” Edmond replied.
“If Alik is to be a part of this family, whoever he might choose, my protection to him is the same as any other of my family. If you raise a hand to him, if you press me, I will strike you down, King or no,” Eamon turned to Alexios. “You are here for a general and his army. Do not press me. These men are loyal to my rule, not my father’s. If I see one injury on Alik that cannot be explained, one scratch, I will strike you down, take your lands with my own army, and drain all the wealth you like to wave about.”
Alexios stood. “How dare you! You do not speak to a King-”
“You are no King!” Eamon roared. Everyone but Therris and Edmond shrank back away from Eamon. “You have one warning. Do not push me or my men. Drink, eat, but stay far, far from my path, Alexios. Do not think you can control me.”
With that, Eamon swept from the room, and his brother and their men followed him out.
***
"WHERE IS OUR GUEST?" Queen Christenne asked when she swept into the library. Both Eamon and Edmond were there, seated at a large, scarred table. Between them, there was a map laid out that they were studying.
“Resting in Eamon’s room,” Edmond replied.
There was nothing but a stony silence in the library when the two brothers arrived in the library. Edmond knew better than to press Eamon during a time such as this. Instead, he let Eamon pull maps from the shelves and blank parchment from a different shelf. The men split themselves up once more; half to stay with the princes, the other to go to Eamon’s wing of the castle.
“Is that so?” Christenne asked.
Eamon and Edmond watched her with wary eyes but did not reply. Neither one knew for sure if she knew what happened with Alik and Alexios. Since she didn’t seem surprised that Alik was currently hidden away in his room, they both had to hope that she did indeed know.
"Don't look at me like that, you two," she said warily. "I just want to know what you have concluded so far."
"Concluded?" Edmond furrowed his brow. "He is a nice enough fellow. I'm not sure I would care to bed him though."
Eamon snorted. He wanted to ask his mother if she had spoken to the king, but did not want to see that look in her eyes that meant that she was being forced to choose between her children and husband once again.
Edmond turned to him, "Have you no opinion brother? We have all seen how he watches you and Lissandra. And he told me this morning that we would not make a good pair but that he would only like to be friends."
Eamon turned to him and opened his mouth to say something. It made sense, then, why Alexios lost his temper with Alik. Perhaps Alexios was supposed to be consulted on who Alik wanted to marry and who he denied. And if Alik informed Edmond that morning while Eamon was sparring, he more than likely said it off the cuff and now was expected to pay the price for making a decision without Alexios’ consent.
It would not surprise Eamon. He knew firsthand how controlling kings could be over their children.
The surprise was written all over his face but their mother beat him to it.
"Did he?" Christenne said. "What else did he have to say?"
Edmond shook his head. "Nothing much more, mother," he said.
Christenne tapped her fingers on the table for a moment and then looked to Eamon who had his hands pressed to the table top and was studying the map with a singular intensity. The reports that Edmon gave him from the merchants that traveled the seas was not a good one. The Vresal ships were beginning to gather themselves and there were more scouts than ever in the villages.
And yet the king of Ataton threatens his own Crown Prince. Eamon ground his teeth together. He had not received any updates from his own scouts on the Vresal mainland in weeks now. His hopes were not high for them.
"And what say you, son?"
"Unfortunately, mother, I haven't had the time or luxury to learn much of our guests," Eamon replied softly. He thought briefly of Alik feeding the wolves, though he was terrified. He thought how Alik slept in his bed while they spoke of him. Eamon did not give voice to his thoughts though. Those seemed far too private, something all his own.
"You need to make the time," Christenne urged gently.
"I have other matters occupying my time," he said and there was a note of irritation in his voice. "Unlike my sisters and brother, I do not get the time luxuriate in the manners of the court and all the romance therein."
"It's hardly romantic," Edmond said.
Eamon sighed and sat back. He waved Doran and Jeremiah over and tapped a point on the map. "Shore it up here. I'll have the wolves patrol from here to here," he said and swept his fingers along the map, "Ready a contingent of men. They'll take shifts throughout the night. If there is anything suspicious, anything at all, I wanted it reported to me immediately."
"Sire," they said and bowed.
"What news, Eamon?" Christenne asked and stood up. It was a relief for at least one of the heads of state to be interested in what he was doing, even if it was only a passing interest.
"Scouts. Small contingents of men, here and here. The Vresal army pushes too far, mother," he said.
"What does your father have to say?" Christenne prodded.
Edmond shook his head and tried to stop her but it was too late.
"Father makes wedding plans and drinks with King Alexios over the kingdoms becoming one. Father seems to forget that the reason for this wedding is that the Vresals are pushing deeper and deeper into our lands and we have not the means to supply the army that we would need to push back. Father has left it in mine and Lissandra's hands to decide how to deal with the Vresal captives that we have. Father threatens to take the throne from me and protects Alexios after he beat Alik. Father is about as helpful as Kane when it comes to strategy," Eamon said bitterly.
"How can I help?" His mother asked and for the first time in months, since the word of the Vresal scouts and contingents first started showing, Eamon could feel a crack in his veneer. His shoulders tightened and he gripped the table and Edmond tugged his mother away, for fear Eamon might upend it.
"I know not," Eamon finally said after a moment. He shook his head and relaxed his grip on the table. When he looked up at his mother and brother, he looked like the young boy he almost never was. "I know not," he repeated.