Chapter 17

 

 

“Keep your head high, darling,” Queen Janesh said, a gracious smile on her lips as she accepted people’s bows with a slight nod.

“And smile,” the Queen-Consort said, taking Seyn’s arm and looping hers through it.

“I’m smiling,” Seyn said, trying to pretend he didn’t see the sneers on people’s faces as they turned away to whisper or, worse, snicker. He hadn’t really thought it would be this bad. It felt like everyone in the ballroom was gawking at him, as if he’d grown a second head overnight. Maybe Jamil had been right and he should have stayed at home.

“Smile like you mean it,” his mother said, leading him deeper into the bathroom as the Queen stayed behind to talk to someone.

Seyn tried to. But it was hard to keep a sincere smile on his face when even his friends kept a safe distance from him, as if they were afraid to become the laughingstocks too if they associated with him in public.

Maybe they weren’t really his friends.

“You don’t have to babysit me, Mother,” he said with a wide smile that hurt his cheeks. “I know you and the Queen wanted to speak to some politicians. Go. I can handle myself.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” the Queen-Consort said, nodding politely to people who bowed to her. “My wife doesn’t need me. My son does.” A barely noticeable tension appeared by her eyes. “If we had known it would end this way, we would have never granted the Second Royal House the favor of bonding you to their heir. Your mother didn’t mince words when she spoke to Queen Tamirs yesterday.”

Seyn suppressed a wince. “Mother, I told you both that I’m glad Ksar did it—that’s what I wanted, too. I’m not angry.”

“I am,” she said, her voice like steel despite her smile. “I’m allowed to be angry on behalf of my son. I swear when I see Ksar’ngh’chaali, I’ll tell him what I think of his ungrateful, selfish, undeserving—”

Seyn was only distantly aware that his mother was still ranting, but his attention zeroed in on the woman at the other end of the ballroom.

Leylen.

She looked radiant, her smile blinding as she laughed with her friend about something. Her smile froze a little when she caught sight of him. Something flickered in her eyes—something that looked a lot like pity.

A white-hot rage filled Seyn’s chest. He didn’t want her pity. She was the one who should be pitied, not him. He was fine. He was free. He was happy. He was—

“Darling,” his mother said softly. “You’re hurting me.”

“Sorry,” Seyn said, loosening his grip on his mother’s arm and putting on another smile. He ignored the looks people shot between him and Leylen, and tried to ignore the whispers, which was harder to do because of his heightened senses.

“…Have you heard? What a delightful scandal!”

“They say Ksar’ngh’chaali wants to get rid of him in order to marry her.”

“His own brother’s bondmate!”

“She’s beautiful.”

“So is Seyn’ngh’veighli, to be fair.”

“He’s too pale. And it’s hardly a secret that Ksar detests him.”

“She and Ksar will make a striking couple.”

“I feel sorry for Prince Seyn, though.”

“It’s his own fault. I wouldn’t tolerate his scandalous behavior if I were in the Lord Chancellor’s shoes, either.”

“There must be something seriously wrong with him. I know Ksar. He would have honored the contract if there weren’t some serious flaw in his bondmate.”

“I agree, there must be something wrong with Prince Seyn.”

His mother murmured, “Don’t listen to them, Seyn.”

“I’m not listening,” Seyn lied, smiling wider.

Suddenly, he felt his mother tense up. “The nerve of that man,” she hissed under his breath. “How dare he show his face in public after dragging your name through the mud.”

Seyn swallowed. He hadn’t expected that Ksar would be at this ball: he’d barely attended any social gatherings in months.

“Don’t look at him, dear,” his mother murmured.

“Where is he?” Seyn said, making an effort not to look around.

“Over there, talking to Councilor Gfyion and Ambassador Fehtur,” his mother said, her lips curling into a sneer. “Apparently he isn’t a social pariah. Don’t look at him, sweetheart,” she added when he turned his head. “He’s beneath your notice.”

Seyn tried not to look. He did.

But it was impossible. His gaze followed his mother’s glare.

Ksar was in the middle of a group of politicians, looking his haughty, cold self.

As if feeling his gaze, Ksar looked right at him.

Licking his lips, Seyn dragged his eyes away.

He glanced back a few moments later.

Ksar was still looking at him.

“Why are you clinging to your mother’s skirts?”a familiar scathing voice said in his head.

Seyn wasn’t even surprised anymore. Ksar seemed to think he had a right to get into his head whenever he wanted.

“Get out of my head,” he snapped. “And I’m not clinging to my mother’s skirts. I’m escorting her.”

“You usually have an entourage of eager puppies following you around.”

“I guess they now think there must be a fundamental flaw in me,” Seyn said with sarcasm that came out all wrong.

There was silence in response and Seyn started thinking Ksar had gotten out of his head when he spoke again, his mental voice terse and annoyed. “Are you waiting for me to reassure you that there’s nothing wrong with you?”

Seyn glowered at him across the room. “Fuck you. I know there’s nothing wrong with me.”

The haughty, superior look in Ksar’s eyes made his hackles rise.

“Then prove it,” Ksar told him.

Seyn set his jaw.

“Excuse me, Mother,” he said, tearing his gaze away from Ksar. “I see Ambassador Denev over there. I’ll go talk to him.”

His mother looked unsure but nodded.

Seyn strode determinedly toward Ambassador Denev, ignoring the stares and the whispers. He would be damned if he let himself be shunned and ostracized in front of Ksar’s eyes.

Denev seemed partly pleasantly surprised, partly uncomfortable when Seyn approached him.

“Your Highness,” he said after a moment of hesitation, bowing to him slightly. “I didn’t expect to see you here, after…” He trailed off, rubbing his shoulder in discomfort, a faint blue flush appearing on his cheeks. He was a dear, really, one of Seyn’s favorites.

“After what?” Seyn said, raising his eyebrows and smiling kindly, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that everyone around them was listening to their conversation with avid curiosity. “After I finally got myself free of an unwanted bond?”

Denev’s face cleared up. “Of course, Your Highness. Please forgive me for the presumption. I swear I didn’t believe those rumors—I simply…”

“I didn’t doubt it for a moment,” Seyn said with a smile. “Only people who don’t know me would believe that it wasn’t my decision to break the bond. Unfortunately, I’m not of age yet, so I discussed the matter with Ksar’ngh’chaali, and he agreed to file the paperwork.”

“I see,” Denev said, smiling back. “In that case, I hope I’m not being too forward, Your Highness, but I’m happy that you will be free soon.”

Seyn felt a pang of discomfort. He’d always liked Denev. He was Ksar’s opposite: friendly, approachable, and nice. He wore his heart on his sleeve. Denev had never made it a secret that he was rather smitten with Seyn, even though he understood Calluvian customs well enough to know that Seyn could never return his feelings in his bonded state. But it seemed now Denev was getting his hopes up.

Feeling a little bad, Seyn chewed on his lip, looking for a response that wouldn’t encourage the foreigner too much and wouldn’t hurt his feelings, either.

Thankfully, at that moment, two other people approached them, and Seyn put on his best smile and turned to them.

The next few hours were spent making nice with people Seyn didn’t care about, putting on his most charming smile and pretending to be oblivious to their thinly veiled insults. It was exhausting. It was infuriating that he even had to do it. But it was immensely satisfying to prove to Ksar that he could totally win people to his side.

Ksar didn’t leave the ball early, as he usually tended to do. Ksar didn’t approach him and didn’t look at him all that often, but his presence across the room energized and motivated Seyn like nothing else could. He would show him. By the end of the night, he would have everyone in this ballroom wrapped around his little finger.

It was early morning as a very exhausted Seyn finally allowed himself to stop fluttering from one group to another and looked around with satisfaction. He could no longer see any pitying looks directed his way or hear the derisive remarks and snickers. He’d done it. He’d proved to Ksar—and to himself—that he could do it.

Seyn looked around the ballroom, eager to locate Ksar and rub it in his face.

But he was nowhere to be seen.

Ksar had left.

He was gone.

Seyn deflated, his smile slipping as a hollow feeling settled low in his gut. The satisfaction and triumph he’d been feeling just moments ago turned into something bitter, and he hated it, and he hated Ksar for ruining everything once again.

“I’m so proud of you, dear,” the Queen said on their way back. “You handled yourself admirably.”

Seyn shrugged, staring at the wall of the t-chamber moodily. He just wanted to get home and feel shitty in the privacy of his room.

“Yes, it went so much better than I expected,” his other mother said, squeezing his arm. “You charmed them all, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have doubted it.”

Seyn said nothing.

“Is something amiss?” the Queen said. “You are not pleased.”

Seyn wondered how she knew; he had his shields fully up, preventing any emotional transference through his familial bonds. But then again, she was his mother. Mothers always knew, somehow.

“He left,” Seyn murmured. “I wanted to prove to him that I could win them back. But he left!”

There was a moment’s silence.

“Who?” the Queen-Consort said faintly.

“Ksar. Who else?”

This time the silence lasted longer as his parents exchanged a look he couldn’t quite read.

The Queen had a pinched expression on her face. “Darling,” she said slowly. “Why do you care?”

Seyn glared at the wall and said nothing.

His other mother was eyeing him with open concern. “The Council is in favor of approving Ksar’s request. You’ll be officially free of him any day now. Why do you still care what he thinks? You have always resented your bond to Ksar. I thought you’d be ecstatic, especially now that you’ve managed to sway the public opinion. It’s effectively over now. You finally got what you have always wanted.”

Seyn crossed his arms over his chest. “Still. I wanted to prove to him that I could do it.”

“Darling, you don’t have to prove anything to him,” the Queen said, her tone becoming incredulous. “He’s nothing to you anymore. Just ignore him. Let it go—”

“I can’t!” he snapped.

His mothers stared at him blankly, the sudden silence ringing in his ears.

“I can’t, okay?” Seyn said tightly. He looked away, running his shaking hands through his hair.

He was immensely relieved when at that moment they arrived at the palace and he could escape his parents’ stares. They had been looking at him as though he’d lost his mind.

He was starting to wonder the same thing.

The door to his bedroom slid shut behind him with an unsatisfying soft click. Seyn strode inside and came to a halt by the table, staring at it. At Ksar’s stupid snow-white cravat on it.

Seyn kicked the table, turning it over.

Something shattered and broke, but he didn’t care. He threw everything he could see through his blurring vision: priceless heirlooms and exotic alien souvenirs, ancient books and top-notch electronics—nothing was safe from his rage.

A servant rushed in and stopped upon seeing the wrecked room.

“Out,” Seyn growled.

The servant left hurriedly, and Seyn gripped his bedpost, collapsing against it. A sob forced its way up his throat. Then another, a horrible choking noise.

He had no idea how he’d ended up slumped on the floor. There was a sharp ache in his leg that probably meant that he’d sunk down onto some broken shard. There was a dull ache in his throat that couldn’t be as easily explained.

He didn’t know why his eyes were wet. There was no damn reason for it.

No reason at all.