“Accepting help isn’t easy, I know. But I would prefer your pride to be wounded, rather than risk more permanent damage.”
Glancing up, Leander said, “Why? What does it matter to you if I, the disgraced demigod, am injured? What was it you said? Legends fade... something, something…”
Jarryn had approached a table to pour water into two small glasses. He handed one to Leander. “It is not in my nature to, even through inaction, cause the suffering of another. Regardless of who they are.”
“Even a drunkard little slut-seeker like me?”
“Slut-seeker? I hadn’t realised an individual’s worth was rated according to one’s carnal relations. Is it something we now discuss openly? I must have missed the memo,” the prince replied dryly. “Either way, who am I to judge howyou spend your free time when you know I am a customer of the very same brothel you frequent.”
“Would that that was it,” Leander said sullenly. His head was starting to hurt and he rubbed at his temple, trying to alleviate the pressure building in it.
Jarryn was in front of him in moments, looking into his eyes to ascertain... something.
“I’m fine.”
“No you’re not.”
“I will manage well enough on my own, thank you.” Once again, he could feel humiliation and annoyance rising within him.
“Sure.” Jarryn pushed himself back up and returned to his glass of water. “You aren’t, because even the damned God of Lies cannot lie about his core wellbeing and mental outlook.”
“That’s me, living up to my name as a disgraced demigod. How could you expect anything less?”
“Oh, my expectations were low already, and I still find myself disappointed.”
That hurt.
“Get some rest, Leander. I will check in on you later.”
Chapter Eight
Good on his word, King Caisa had sent a man around to the Talius residence with an invitation to visit the ancient Ruins of Pasiara, which were located just to the east of the city.
Upon arriving at the designated meeting point, Leander was surprised to find that Thiete was the offered tour guide.
“Lord Thiete,” Leander greeted, extending his hand to shake. “Moonlighting away from noble duties?”
Thiete grinned. “I studied history before commissioning into the military,” he explained. “The king thought me to be the most appropriate option to guide two princes and a demigod through our nation’s proud history.”
“Princes, plural?”
“I know very little of the ruins, so I thought I would tag along too.”
Leander turned at the sound of a new voice and bowed his head in respect as Lucien approached. “Your Highness.”
“Oh, none of that,Myracle. We are just Lucien and Leander today, as with all days.”
“As you wish.” Leander smiled. “We’re waiting on Prince Jarryn?”
“Who might well expect us to keep referring to him as such, yes.”
Leander was not looking forward to seeing the Desannian prince again, not after his hazy recollection of how Jarryn had rescued him when he had had more alcohol than blood coursing through his veins. The embarrassment still hadn’t passed.
Minutes passed and the three men traded light ribbing and banter as they waited. Leander wished it could be just the three of them; Jarryn was not the easiest to pin down. The demigod had no notion of how he would be received by the exiled prince at any given moment.
“Ah, there he is. Hello, Your Highness,” Thiete said. “Right, the sun is growing in the sky and it is going to be a crisp but beautiful day. Let’s get the horses and be on our way.”
They entered the stables, where four horses were saddled for each of the nobles. Also waiting were more horses and a small contingent of guards from both Lucien’s and Jarryn’s personal retinues. The two princes never did anything without a protective shadow of armed men, especially when leaving the city proper.
