He looked back at Jarryn. “I have learnt to define myself by the values I uphold. If you cannot accept me, then so be it. But know this, I did not raze villages to the ground in a flood to earn my punishment. And what I did is no business of yours.”
Chapter Nine
When he wasn’t occupied with the jobs and tasks as ordered by his father or Verin, Leander found himself spending more and more time enjoying not only what delights Jasmine had to offer, but also the wonders of Saeren’s underworld.
Now that he was mortal, with no divine protections, Leander found himself very much enjoying the effects of various substances and activities to alter his worldly experience in both body and mind.
It wasn’t much of what he wanted out of life, but it was… fun.
Taverns were good enough on occasion, but he found himself craving,needing, more than what ale could provide. Jasmine’s brothel had opened his eyes to the dark delicacies that the mortal world had on offer, and he couldn’t get enough.
Nights passed in a blur and were often forgotten by thenext morning, as Leander found himself blacking out as a result of whatever it was that he was consuming more and more frequently.
The previous night had been no exception, as he once again tried some of Jasmine’s opiates whilst bedding Talia, who had fast become his favourite distraction.
Leander had never seen the Desannian prince in the brothel again, which was a shame, because he could not stop thinking about how much he wanted to ravish him. Or to be ravished by him—that was really what he wanted.
He had a vivid imagination, and spent hours thinking about what he might do with Jarryn if given the chance in a shadowy corner of Jasmine’s brothel.
When Leander blinked blearily into wakefulness, his head was pounding. He was vaguely aware of pressure against his skin as someone leaned in to touch his forehead with the back of a hand.
The demigod flinched backwards, gut twisting violently, and he abruptly shot up into a sitting position, almost toppling out of the bed, as he rapidly scanned the room.
“Calm yourself, Leander.” The Talius scion’s voice was quiet but firm as he steadied his younger half-brother on the shoulder with his hand. “You’re okay.”
Leander had only a second’s warning before the feeling of nausea hit him like a tsunami. He leaned over the side of the bed just as the older aristocrat brought a bowl to his face and tucked his long locks of brown hair behind his ears. He didn’t actually throw up anything; he just retched a few times. This, in a way, was possibly worse, because hestill went through the horrible feeling that his stomach was being ripped out of his lower body but didn’t have the satisfying feeling of achievement one has when one sees the vomit.
His throat was burning something fierce, and he so desperately wanted to reach down and rip out the offending organs—of which there were many—causing his current suffering.
“You deserved every bit of that,” Verin said scathingly, and Leander could tell that he was beyond enraged.
“How… why… what happened?”
“You couldn’t stay where you were,” Verin said bluntly. “Passed out cold on the streets of Saeren? I think not, little lion. As to what happened? Your guess is as good as mine, as there are no willing witnesses coming forward to lay bare your shame for us to know. I suspect you pay them far too well for their silence.”
“Can I have something to…?” the demigod looked up as Verin handed him a glass of water. “Thank you,” Leander whispered meekly and then he took a gulp of the tepid water. He gagged, despising the lukewarm piss he had been given.
“Drink slowly, small sips,” was all the reply Verin offered.
After sitting still for a few minutes and doing as instructed, the world stopped spinning on its axis and the nausea began to subside. Without dizziness and nausea to concentrate on, the young demigod considered his situation.
Leander could feel the older aristocrat entering hisunprotected mind again with ease. He could even sense Verin’s vague fascination at his predicament.
Taking the glass of water out of his brother’s hand and placing it on the table beside the bed before turning to face the demigod full on, Verin looked at him with concern. “How do you feel?”
“Absolutely divine, just dandy, thanks for asking,” Leander said, his response more than a little hysterical.
Verin wasn’t deterred, and ploughed on with his questioning, determined to get to the bottom of why he had been forced to search the streets for his youngest brother like a gnarled old woman searching for a wayward cat. “Would you like to explain, then, what drove you to ingest opiates so nonchalantly, without a single care for what damage it would cause to your body and mind?”
He wasn’t in the mood for this. “Oh, fuck off, Verin, give me a break, okay? I’m not a child, so don’t tell me how I should be acting.”
“Now why would I do that when you’re making it oh so very easy to treat you like one? Your little escapade down at the harbour last night has made it so abundantly clear that you are incapable of looking after yourself.”
Leander, who had been staring at a fixed point on the wall, glanced over at his brother and inwardly quailed. Verin’s countenance was stern, his expression hard, and Leander came to realise why so many people at court gave the Talius scion a wide berth. Leander felt very young all of a sudden.
“When we met, I gave you the benefit of the doubt, assuming you were sensible and level-headed, but I see now that trying to reason with you won’t work. If this self-destructive behaviour continues, I will escalate as I deem necessary. Keeping you, as a member of this family, safe is my highest priority. Please do not misunderstand me.”
The demigod, surprised at the affirmation, made to speak but was interrupted before he could even begin.
