Chapter 25

 

 

Ksar first heard the rumor from Councilor Xuvok, of all people.

“You must be quite relieved, Your Highness,” Xuvok said suddenly in the middle of a discussion about trading permits.

“Pardon?” Ksar looked up from the graphs displayed on his screen.

The elderly man clarified, “The…current situation must have been awkward for you—encountering your former bondmate everywhere while you’re so close to marrying another person. You must be relieved that Prince Seyn’ngh’veighli is going to move to another planet.”

Ksar stared at him. “What.”

Xuvok frowned. “Have you not heard the rumors? It is said Prince Seyn has accepted Ambassador Denev’s proposal.”

Ksar moved his gaze back to the graphs and gazed at them blankly. “Let’s return to the subject at hand.”

His voice came out strange, but Xuvok didn’t seem to notice.

The meeting went as it should.

When the Councilor finally left, Ksar sat very still, his hands on his desk.

In the absolute silence of the room, with nothing to distract him, he finally had to accept something he’d been in denial about for years.

People said with great power came great responsibility. They were not wrong. Ksar had always prided himself on being cool-headed enough not to use his telepathic abilities recklessly. He’d done…some morally questionable things in the past, but there had always been the line he’d never allowed himself to cross. He’d never harmed another person.

But now…now he had to admit he was absolutely capable of doing what the horror stories said about the high-level telepaths. Because his first thought upon hearing the news was to find Denev and make sure that he suffered from sudden heart failure. It would be so easy.

So easy.

Sighing, Ksar pinched the bridge of his nose.

He would do no such thing. Denev’s only fault was wanting Seyn, and Ksar could hardly blame him for that.

Except Seyn wasn’t Denev’s to want.

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered through his teeth. Seyn wasn’t his. He had never been his. The only thing they’d ever had was their farce of a bond.

Except the bond had been very real to him. He might not have ever been bonded to Seyn, but he’d had constant access to Seyn’s emotions for twenty-four years. Ksar was used to Seyn’s presence at the back of his mind, no matter how annoying and distracting it had been at times. Twenty-four years was a very long time. It was probably natural that at some point he’d started thinking of Seyn as something that was his. 

A harsh laugh left Ksar’s throat. No, there was nothing fucking natural about it. He should have been glad to be rid of the needy presence at the back of his mind. He should have been relieved to no longer feel the guilt that presence had always caused in him. 

He had no business feeling this ugly possessiveness twisting his stomach and urging him to crush Denev for daring—

Ksar grimaced. Seyn was a free man now. Seyn was free to choose whomever he wanted. And apparently, it was Denev, the ambassador of a planet half a galaxy away from Calluvia. If Seyn married the man, he would move away—which shouldn’t be allowed. Seyn’s place was here, on Calluvia, where Ksar could see him and look at him even if he couldn’t have him.

Ksar stared unseeingly at his desk, disturbed by his own thoughts. Perhaps it was a good thing that Seyn had chosen Denev and would live on another planet. Perhaps it was exactly what Ksar needed to get rid of these…these insane thoughts—especially since he wasn’t sure he could handle seeing Seyn with another man without arranging an accident for that man.

Sighing in exasperation and disgust, Ksar ran a hand over his face. This was ridiculous. Seyn wasn’t his. Seyn was now engaged to Denev, not him. And there was nothing Ksar could do about it. Seyn was free to choose whomever he wanted.

Whomever he wanted.

Ksar lifted his head.

And then he almost laughed at himself for entertaining such a thought. Seyn would never choose him even if Ksar asked him to. Why would Seyn choose him when being free of him was all he’d ever wanted?

Not to mention the not insignificant fact that Ksar was marrying Leylen in eight days. The invitations had been sent out. The preparations for the wedding were in full force. It would create an enormous scandal if he were to cancel the wedding now. Even his political standing might not recover from it. Entertaining such a thought was beyond reckless and irresponsible. He was the Crown Prince of his grand clan. He was the Lord Chancellor of the planet. 

What the man behind those titles wanted was largely irrelevant.