Chapter 9

 

 

It was all well and good to say that he would avoid all social gatherings, but there was one Seyn absolutely couldn’t avoid: his sister’s marriage ceremony. Gynesh would kill him if he did that, and their mothers would never forgive him.

That was how Seyn found himself dressed in the blue and white colors of his House, his hair up in an intricate hairstyle that drew attention to his jawline and lips. He looked good; he knew that.

Gynesh looked positively radiant.

Seyn smiled a little, watching wistfully as his sister’s entourage fretted over Gynesh’s hair.

“Ladies, she looks perfect as it is,” he said, stepping into the room.

The women bowed to him gracefully with a chorus of “Your Highness.”

Gynesh smiled at him, her green eyes very striking in contrast with her dark violet hair. “You may go ahead,” she told her ladies-in-waiting and walked toward Seyn. She patted his cheek with a grin. “These cheekbones are unfair to the rest of us mere mortals. You aren’t supposed to outshine the bride, you know.”

Seyn managed not to flinch at the touch—his control had improved that much—and smiled crookedly at his sister. “Flatterer. No one is outshining you today. Ready?”

Gynesh pulled a face. “A little nervous, but yes.”

“What is there to be nervous about?” Seyn said, putting her hand on his arm and leading her out of the room, heading toward the High Hall where the ceremony would take place. “I thought you got along with your bondmate.”

“Yes, but he’s the King of the Eighth Grand Clan. I’ll have much bigger responsibilities as the Queen-Consort than I’ve ever had as a mere princess.”

“You’ve been trained for the role since birth. You’ll be a wonderful queen-consort.” Seyn chuckled. “And I’ll have to bow to you.”

Gynesh wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. I don’t want my baby brother to bow to me. “ She nudged him playfully. “But it won’t be as weird as when I’ll have to bow to you when you become the Second Grand Clan’s King-Consort.”

Seyn’s smile became strained. He looked straight ahead, avoiding his sister’s eyes.

Gynesh sighed. “Are you still fighting with Ksar?”

Seyn pasted on a wide smile. “Let’s not talk about me today. This is your day.” Regardless of what he thought about bonding, he tried not to force his opinion on other people. He knew most other people were perfectly happy with their bonds and the bonding ceremony was one of the most important days in their lives. His sister liked her bondmate and was excited to marry him. He could be happy for her, even if her marriage meant that she would leave their home. Seyn almost wished she’d married down her social status; then her husband or wife would have moved in rather than vice versa. But she was marrying a king, even if he was a king of a smaller clan than theirs.

Gynesh let out a chuckle. “My day? You’ve been a recluse for almost a month. Gossip is running rampant. You’re fooling yourself, brother, if you think all eyes won’t be on you.”

Seyn made a face. “Jamil should have given you away, then.”

“You know that would not be proper,” Gynesh said, her smile fading.

Seyn sighed. “Sometimes I really hate all our stupid, stifling rules and customs.” He wasn’t even sure where the custom of widowers not being allowed to give their siblings away had come from. Perhaps it had been considered bad luck. Perhaps it had something to do with the black mourning bracelet Jamil wore as a widower. Either way, it was stupid. If Jamil’s bondmate hadn’t died, it would have been Jamil giving Gynesh away, not Seyn. It was also really stupid that their mothers couldn’t give Gynesh away, either: tradition dictated that it had to be a male relative, which was blatant discrimination that had no right to exist in the modern world. But no one cared, because it was tradition.

Fuck tradition, seriously. Seyn tried not to think about how it would make Jamil feel to see his younger brother taking his rightful place by Gynesh’s side during the ceremony; he felt nervous enough already without adding guilt into the mix.

It would be the first time in a month that his self-control would be tested seriously.

It would also be the first time he’d see Ksar since—

Seyn pushed the thought away. 

It was irrelevant.

“You’re shaking, brother,” Gynesh said as they reached the double doors leading to the High Hall of the palace. Seyn could feel the crowd behind the doors without even focusing.

Reinforcing his mental shields, Seyn shrugged. “I don’t give my sister away every day. A man is allowed to be a little nervous on such an occasion.”

Gynesh didn’t look entirely convinced, but, thankfully, she didn’t say anything.

“Ready?” he said.

Gynesh licked her lips, running a hand over her blue and white dress that matched his attire. “I don’t know.”

“You do,” Seyn said, taking her hand and kissing her gloved knuckles. “You’re ready.”

She smiled at him, straightening her shoulders. “I am.”

Seyn nodded to the footmen.

They bowed and opened the heavy double doors.

 

 

* * *

 

The ceremony passed in a blur.

Seyn barely registered it, smiling and nodding at hopefully appropriate times, keeping his eyes fixed on Gynesh and King Farhat as they knelt before the High Adept and tied the white ribbon that symbolized their marriage bond to each other’s wrists. He could barely hear the traditional words the High Adept said as he performed the ceremony, his hands on Gynesh and Farhat’s heads. Seyn tried to concentrate on the High Adept’s face, and tried not to look around, focusing all his mental attention on keeping his shields up. 

It still wasn’t easy. It was impossible to ignore people’s emotions and thoughts in a crowd that big. It didn’t help that his sense of smell was overwhelmed by the different fragrances in the room, and his attention kept drifting to conversations that were happening at the other end of the High Hall. It felt like the crowd’s thoughts and emotions were pressing down on him from all sides, making him shake with the effort to keep himself from being overwhelmed. Dammit, dammit, dammit—

Suddenly he felt such an unnatural, blessed silence that Seyn nearly jumped in surprise.

“You’re a mess,” a familiar voice said in his head. “If you don’t get better at controlling yourself, it’s only a matter of time before you give yourself away.”

Seyn closed his eyes for a moment before turning his head toward the first row where royal members of the largest grand clans sat. He glared when his gaze met Ksar’s. “Get out of my head,” he thought as loudly as he could, his eyes roaming over Ksar’s formal attire. The bastard looked unfairly good in his House colors, his signet ring glinting on his little finger.

Ksar’s lips curled slightly. “I’m the one keeping you from having a very public breakdown.”

As much as he hated it, Ksar was entirely correct. The knowledge ate at him, but Seyn wasn’t an idiot to reject help.

Correctly interpreting his silence for the reluctant agreement it was, Ksar told him, “It’s tiring for me to keep extending my shields to you across the room. Come over here.”

Eyeing him suspiciously—since when had Ksar offered help voluntarily?—Seyn walked toward him, ignoring some curious stares. Thankfully, most people had their eyes on the marriage ceremony and he attracted relatively little attention as he made his way to where Ksar sat with his family.

Upon reaching them, Seyn gave a bow to Ksar’s family, receiving a polite smile from Ksar’s father, a sharp look from Queen Tamirs and a curious look from Princess Sanyash, who looked very beautiful and very pregnant.

Finally, he turned to Ksar and gave him a shallow bow that was more like a nod. He smiled innocently when Ksar’s silver eyes narrowed.

“Sit,” Ksar said curtly, gesturing to the empty seat beside him.

The empty seat that shouldn’t have been there, actually.

Frowning, Seyn took the seat and murmured, “Where’s Harry?”

Ksar gave a slight shrug.

“You don’t know?” Seyn said, incredulous. Ksar usually made it his business to know everything; he was the biggest control freak Seyn knew.

“I believe he’s moping and I have no patience for that.”

Seyn shook his head. “You’re such a bastard. He’s your brother.”

There was a barely noticeable tension at the corners of Ksar’s mouth. “Our family affairs are none of your concern.”

Seyn studied him, suddenly wondering if the seemingly heartless bastard was feeling a bit guilty for making his brother miserable.

Leaning close to Ksar’s ear, he murmured, “Guilt is an uncomfortable feeling, isn’t it?”

Ksar stiffened.

He turned his head, and a shiver ran up Seyn’s spine when he felt Ksar’s breath on his lips. It was…disconcerting.

“If I should feel guilty, then so should you,” Ksar said softly. “I’m not the one who dragged him back to Earth and gave him a false hope.”

Seyn spluttered in indignation. “It’s not the same and you know it!” he hissed, grabbing Ksar’s arm. Heavens, he wanted to kill him, wanted to wrap his hands around that muscular throat and—and—

“Ahem,” came a delicate cough from behind them.

Seyn flinched, only now realizing how close he and Ksar had been.

Pulling back, he looked at Princess Sanyash, who was looking between Seyn and her brother with something like bemusement on her face.

“You are making a scene, brother,” she said quietly. “I can’t believe I’m saying it, but behave yourself. People are staring.”

Ksar gave a clipped nod without even glancing at his sister, his heavy gaze still on Seyn.

For no damn reason, Seyn blushed, unable to hold Ksar’s gaze for more than a few moments but also unable to stop looking back at him.

What was wrong with him?

“It’s called attraction, you little idiot,” Ksar’s dismissive voice sounded in his head.

Seyn scowled at him. He had a horrible suspicion that Ksar was right, but everything in him rebelled at the idea. He couldn’t possibly be attracted to that asshole. Seyn hated him, despised everything about him. He couldn’t be attracted to him.

Ksar shot him a flat look. “I told you: it’s entirely possible to be attracted to someone one dislikes—or I wouldn’t possibly be attracted to a mouthy, disrespectful brat like you.”

“Fuck you. And stop reading my mind, you creep.”

“Besides,” Ksar told him in his head, as if Seyn hadn’t said anything. “Considering that as far as your body is concerned, it’s been sex-deprived for years, it’s not surprising that you’re eager for sex.”

“I’m not eager for sex,” Seyn hissed out, barely audibly. “Not with you!”

Ksar lifted his eyebrows a little and shifted his gaze pointedly to…to Seyn’s hand, which was stroking Ksar’s biceps.

Seyn stared at it, feeling absolutely mortified and betrayed by his own body. Yanking his hand away, he opened his mouth and closed it without saying anything.

Ksar heaved a sigh, and Seyn hated that he couldn’t stop noticing the way it made Ksar’s chest expand. Ugh. He almost wanted his stupid bond back. This was horrible. Horrible.

“Look,” Ksar said in his mind, his mental voice laced with irritation. “It isn’t a big deal. I’m well aware that you can’t stand me, which is mutual. But we wouldn’t want you to give yourself away because your body has too many new hormones you have no idea how to deal with. I’ll have sex with you if you want. To take the edge off.”

Seyn licked his lips, his pulse thundering in his ears. “You don’t have to make it sound like such a chore.”

Ksar looked him in the eye.

A beat passed, then another.

Seyn felt heat rush toward his groin, want making his hands tremble and intensifying the longer he looked into Ksar’s eyes.

“It won’t be a chore,” Ksar said in a low voice, “if you don’t make it one.”

“Screw you,” Seyn said, barely moving his lips, only vaguely aware that everyone was rising to their feet. The ceremony seemed to be over, but it felt so very distant. “Fuck you.”

Ksar leaned to his ear and said, “I’ll be the one doing it. And you will like it.” And then the asshole just breathed against the sensitive shell of Seyn’s ear, making Seyn tremble violently and let out a small moan.

“My study, ten in the evening.”

And with that, Ksar stood and left to congratulate the happy couple, leaving Seyn trying to awkwardly hide the giant bulge in his pants.