The group was deep in conversation, going over what went well and what didn’t as they moved to Martin’s home, the one Martin was no longer welcome at. Adosina had a lot to say, and they all listened as she made comments on things none of them had even considered. They were surrounding Martin’s desk in his study, with Nathaniel sitting in the chair, making notes as his children ran in and out to see them.
Indenuel knew he needed to keep his temper contained. When it came down to it, he had to acknowledge that his temper was the weakness in this group. It was just so damn hard.
He couldn’t tell how long time had passed. It was almost like attending a war meeting, predicting the High Elder’s next move. This had to be a victory, though. Navir now saw them as a group far more difficult to control, which was a terrifying prospect to be in.
There was a knock at the door, which was odd, considering Nathaniel’s children never bothered knocking. Adrian and Tomas were in and out almost constantly.
“Come in,” Nathaniel said, focusing on the notes he had written.
The door opened and a woman walked in. Indenuel had honestly never seen her in his life, but the energy her presence brought into the room was felt almost immediately. Indenuel frowned, studying the woman’s face. She had to be at least forty, small locks of her brown hair turning gray. She had green eyes that were filled with tears as she stared at the group. There was something incredibly familiar about her, but Indenuel couldn’t quite place why.
Tolomon, who had been leaning against the desk, suddenly straightened, staring wide-eyed at the woman. “Hello, Vi,” he whispered.
The woman blinked, the first of the tears falling, before she ran the short distance and wrapped her arms around Tolomon.
Nathaniel smiled, then gathered up the notes. “Come on, everyone. To the library. I think Vivian would like a private conversation with her little brother.”
***
Martin’s main objective was to keep Navir from throwing himself into mental battles with Indenuel. After the incident with the Oraminians, Navir was far more careful. Martin proved his valuableness by blocking Indenuel’s corruptive pain, so Navir wasn’t about to face Indenuel by himself. Not only that, Martin proved for now, his loyalties leaned toward Indenuel. It didn’t stop Navir from trying to gain Martin’s favor back. The gestures were subtle, but clear. An opinion of Martin’s that he listened to and implemented. Borrowing a book and discussing an idea they both agreed on. Trying to gain back the respect that Martin could never truly give him. But Navir was working on getting a portion of it back, even as Martin worked on pretending to give it. He had been hurt way too many times by Navir to actually trust him again. And Navir threatening Nathaniel, threatening his family, would never place him back in Martin’s good graces. But Navir thinking he was an ally could work to his favor.
It was two weeks since the incident with the Oraminians. He hadn’t heard from his children, and he didn’t expect to. Nathaniel promised to work with Indenuel to include Martin in on things, but two weeks was not going to heal the hurt he caused, even if it was Nathaniel working with him. Martin would give them all the distance they needed to come to terms with his dark deeds. Something told him they would be far more forgiving of him than he ever would of himself.
The city was absolutely abuzz with gossip. There was still fear, but there was also hesitant hope. Hesitant, because many of the nobility didn’t necessarily enjoy the prospect of the savior being half Oraminian and half Dengrian. Navir allowed Martin to reveal the rest of the Divine Ages in a sermon the next Sabbath, but only the vague prophecies. None of the expounded thoughts from the Prophet Jaakob. The public wasn’t ready for that. Especially the one about the Savior’s Coming.
The Oraminians were of course shocked, but some of their own culture had managed to confirm the writings of the prophecy, mainly that their blue eyes were important, and the color meant something and should be protected. Granted, the tree talking Oraminians were annoyed a princess and a king clearly meant it was for the nobility, but Martin wasn’t so sure. After all, Santollia’s own prophecy turned out so much different than he could have ever expected, both the good, and the bad.
Martin set his books down on his desk, seeing a letter there next to his dinner. He frowned, picking it up. There was something familiar about the handwriting on the letter, but he couldn’t place it. Usually much of his work was sent to his study in the Cathedral, because that’s where he was most of the day.
He sat down, eating his cold dinner late at night because he found no reason to come home to a guest home that never felt like his. He opened the letter carefully, not sure what to expect.
Hello, Father,
It must be from his family. His eyes traveled down the long letter, then his throat constricted as he saw it was from Carlos. His eldest son, residing with the good spirits. His boy he missed with an ache he would never recover from. Martin closed his eyes, swallowed, and prepared to read the letter. He realized why the handwriting was so familiar. It was Ana’s, written for him right after a dream, delivered to his home most likely after she had breakfast.
Hello, Father,
I’ve waited before allowing Ana to give you a compiled list of my thoughts. Waited for the anger to subside a little. I doubt Nathaniel ever told you, but the two of us had a wager going. Whoever punched a man out of pure anger would be the first to admit for the rest of their existence that the other was the better nobleman. I thought I was doing quite well, going through my mortal life and never giving in to that. But a few weeks ago, I had Ana admit to Nathaniel that I lost. I came down to this realm specifically to punch you in the face. And I did, a lot. I am sorry to say I wished they made contact, just so you knew how deeply I hated you in that moment. Nathaniel had always been the better nobleman, anyway. I doubted anyone in the family was surprised by the outcome of the wager.
Martin kept a hand covering his mouth, feeling the ache. Missing his son. Feeling the pain of disappointing yet another child.
I was fully ready to give up the noble code at that point. I don’t care what Nathaniel said. You were a hypocrite and a liar. Not only that, but there’s also a very good chance you and I will never be able to hug each other again.
Martin blinked, feeling a tear fall, knowing he’d let silent ones fall for a while now.
But I couldn’t give it up, because you had it engrained in my mind since Nathaniel and I were children. So, I came down to this realm again as a nobleman to be with you in your darkest time to give whatever support I could as you were in the dungeon, awaiting your trial. Trying to talk to you. Asking you questions. Demanding why you did this to commoners. To Tolomon. Kicking a wall I couldn’t actually kick. Being there as Nathaniel diplomatically destroyed you. Then watched as you sobbed. And somehow, I couldn’t be angry at you anymore.
Martin shook his head, knowing he did not deserve his son’s forgiveness.
I can’t give up the noble code, so therefore, I can’t give up on you. I’ve seen you trying to make things right, and I must support you as you do this. Not just because it’s in the code, but because I firmly believe you can change. The best person to correct mistakes is the person who made them, and I believe that. You’re in a position to do a lot of good for a lot of people, and I’m here to remind you of it. You haven’t lost everything, Father. There’s still one spirit in heaven who gives you support. And Nathaniel does, too. He hasn’t told me, but I already know he’s forgiven you. If I have, then he has, because my little brother is the best nobleman in this family.
I have to say that. I lost the wager.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Martin chuckled, more tears spilling from his eyes.
If the High Elders ever make you feel like you’re alone, let them know you’re not. You may think this tore you away from your family, but we just needed some time to come to terms with it. Nathaniel and I will always have your back. A man in his darkest times needs to feel he is loved in order to find his way back to the light. I’m happy to extend my support, now the anger is passed.
I love you, Father.
Carlos
Martin folded the letter up, placing it to one side. He rested his hands under his chin, trying to control his emotions. Yes, the power of speaking to the dead was such a blessing, but Martin could not deny it hurt. It awakened old memories, made him feel Carlos’ absence even more. That boy was every bit his son, and there were times in his youth that Carlos made that very well known. He could almost pinpoint the gray hairs Carlos had caused on his head, but he loved that boy fiercely. And he was afraid Carlos was right. He’d never be able to hug his eldest son again.
Martin sniffed, drying his eyes as he grabbed his fork, poking around his dinner. He cleared his throat, making sure his emotions hadn’t closed it too tightly. He opened a drawer to put his son’s letter in there, but stopped, and instead slid it into his pocket to have on him.
Martin may still be bound for hell, but when he first took the responsibilities given to him with his High Elder robes, he promised to keep people on the path to help them rest with the good spirits in the next life. He always said his greatest accomplishment was getting Carlos into the heavens. Now he had to make sure no one else followed him into hell. And on the top of that list was Indenuel.
***
Indenuel woke up, feeling fully rested. Inessa was still sound asleep as he leaned over and kissed her forehead. They celebrated a month of marriage not that long ago. A strange month indeed, but he would have done it all over again in a heartbeat to keep her.
He eased himself out of bed to not wake her. She was still nervous and jittery, and there had been more than a few occasions he woke up to Inessa and Tolomon talking quietly as she sipped a calming tea. She needed her rest.
It was dark enough still to see the lonely son reaching toward the light of dawn. He dressed himself quickly before slipping out of the room into the empty hallway. He closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the wall. Two weeks, and the rumors were still zooming through the trees. Two weeks and there were people who were positive they saw Inessa kissing multiple women in a brothel.
Indenuel opened his eyes, wondering if he should do some meditating to strengthen his gifts when the door next to him opened and Tolomon stepped out, quietly shutting the door behind him.
“Good morning,” Indenuel said.
“Good morning,” Tolomon said, waiting beside Indenuel.
They were quiet, the stillness of the house all around them. Most of the servants were either asleep or in the kitchen, getting things ready for breakfast. Tolomon’s sister had spent almost a week and a half with them, and the stories that woman told made Indenuel see his bodyguard in a new light. And yet none of it surprised him. Tolomon had been incredibly protective of his sisters, even as a child. It was strange to hear just how close Tolomon was to not attending the King’s Militia as a young boy, and therefore never joining the Graduate program.
“Did your sister manage to get back to her town alright?” Indenuel asked.
Tolomon nodded. “Yes. It was good to visit with her.” He was rubbing the side of his face, the emotions too difficult to read. Indenuel couldn’t imagine what it might have been like to have gone almost two decades with the threat of his sister’s life hanging over his head. He could barely handle Matteo, Isla, and Emilia being threatened. At first Indenuel could only see the similarities in their faces, but two decades living apart, and they were clearly trying to get to know each other again. But every time Indenuel thought they couldn’t possibly be siblings, Vivian gave a scoff and called someone a stubborn ass. It was so much like hearing Tolomon say it, that it surprised him, causing Nathaniel to chuckle at his reaction.
“So, it sounds like I have Vivian to thank for urging you to go to the King’s Militia when you were a boy,” Indenuel said.
Tolomon smiled in a way Indenuel had never seen before. It was one of brotherly pride. “Everyone says that, and Vi fully welcomes the gratitude every single time. She will never let me live that wager down.”
Indenuel frowned. “Wager? It was a wager?”
Tolomon nodded. “Yeah.” Indenuel didn’t want to push it, because he didn’t want to force his friend to share if he didn’t want to. To Indenuel’s surprise, Tolomon cleared his throat. “I was always the one to protect my sisters from my father’s rages, but Vi said that if she could keep me and Rene from getting any injuries from him for the next three days, I was to go to the King’s Militia. I took her up on it, because Father was always the worst on the day before the Sabbath. I couldn’t imagine leaving the two of them to Father.” Tolomon wasn’t looking at Indenuel. “She won, of course. Used all her mental capacity, but she did it. Pacified him when she could, had us avoid him when he got bad.” Tolomon looked down, still not meeting Indenuel’s eye. “That was the first time I realized a battle could be won without throwing a punch.”
Indenuel stared at Tolomon, realizing how much time they spent together, and yet how little he knew about his bodyguard.
Indenuel placed his head against the wall when he heard rustling inside Tolomon’s room. Indenuel straightened, frowning as he glanced at the door. Tolomon winced.
“Everything… alright?” Indenuel asked.
“She might have overslept,” Tolomon said.
“Ah.” Indenuel shook his head as he heard more rustling inside. “I honestly don’t know how you three do it. How do you not get insanely jealous of Nathaniel? Or Nathaniel of you?”
Tolomon shrugged. “Constant communication. And I mean near constant communication. There are things that work, things that don’t. A lot of it is figuring things out as we go along.”
“Doesn’t Nathaniel miss her?” Indenuel asked.
Tolomon gave another shrug, this one seemed more noncommittal. Rosa opened the door, fully dressed. She gave a curtsey. “Must have lost track of the time.” Indenuel bowed to her as she got closer to Tolomon. “Any servants about?” she asked.
“Nope,” Tolomon said, wrapping her in a hug before kissing her deeply. Indenuel looked away, giving them privacy. They broke away, Tolomon still with an arm around her waist as Indenuel tried to smile, playing his part of host.
“Would you like any breakfast?” he asked.
“Oh, no thank you. It’s far too early for breakfast, and we really must be going,” Rosa said.
“Just wanted to offer--” Indenuel frowned, giving her a look. “We?”
“Rosa!” came a quiet hiss that was all too familiar inside the room. Indenuel turned as the door opened again. Nathaniel walked out, shirtless. “Where’s my shirt.”
Indenuel did everything in his power not to let his jaw drop.
Rosa frowned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Nathaniel shook his head, a smile on his face. “You realize that’s what Tolomon says when he knows exactly what he’s talking about.”
“Your eyebrow twitched,” Tolomon said. “Keep the muscles steady.” He faced Nathaniel, not an inch of him moving. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Ooh, that’s good. Yeah, let’s see,” she faced Nathaniel again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You’re still frowning. Gives it away,” Tolomon said, touching the corner of her cheek.
“Well, I mean, I have to use my muscles to talk,” Rosa said, touching Tolomon’s hand.
Nathaniel smiled, shaking his head. “You two are ridiculous.”
Indenuel finally found the ability to speak. He raised a hand. “Do you… all three of you…?” He suddenly realized the question he was about to ask, and alarm filled him. “You know what? I don’t want to know.”
Nathaniel smiled, then bowed like they were at a formal banquet instead of him coming out of Tolomon’s room shirtless. “Good morning, Indenuel. You must have been the reason Tolomon leapt out of bed so quickly.” Indenuel said nothing, simply stared. “Forgive us for intruding. We shall go shortly, as soon as Rosa locates my shirt.”
“I do believe it’s where you hid my underdress the other night,” Rosa said.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nathaniel said.
Tolomon shook his head. “You two are so bad at lying. Must be why you’ve been married for so long.”
Indenuel still stared, knowing the surprise was obvious on his face. Nathaniel walked over, wrapping his arms around Rosa’s shoulders while Tolomon still had an arm around her waist. “Can’t stay angry at her, either.”
Rosa smiled, kissing him deeply before breaking away. “We should be going. We’re usually already home by this point.”
“Usually? How many times have you--” Indenuel started to say before he stopped himself. “I still don’t actually want to know.”
“Indenuel? What’s happening?” Inessa asked as she walked out of their room, wrapping her bed robe around her. “I thought I heard voices.”
Inessa stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Nathaniel and Rosa. No, he realized. She stopped when she saw Nathaniel shirtless. Both of them made eye contact with each other then looked at his chest, absorbing the fact he wasn’t wearing a shirt before meeting each other’s gaze again, both faces considerably pinker. Tolomon smiled at the ground as Nathaniel let go of Rosa, turning around to show the crisscrossing scars on his back. “Good morning, Inessa,” he said before shutting the door.
“Morning,” Inessa said, blinking a few times before meeting Rosa’s gaze. “I know we’re half siblings, so I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but… damn, Rosa.”
She snorted. “I know.” She turned to Tolomon, smiling. “We’ll slip out the back. See you later. I love you.”
“I love you too, my lady,” Tolomon said.
Indenuel frowned, noticing how Rosa seemed to melt at Tolomon’s words. Rosa gave him another kiss before she entered the room, shutting the door. They heard quiet giggling in the room and Nathaniel’s light-hearted whispers.
Tolomon licked his lips before popping them, completely unconcerned that Indenuel and Inessa were staring at him. It became clear that Tolomon could keep his entire life a secret if he really wanted to. It made it such an honor that Indenuel knew anything about him.
“I’ll let the servants know to start breakfast,” Tolomon said.