Most princes cycled through companions like tunics, discarding them when novelty wore thin or more interesting prospects appeared. But Rhazir had been different from the very beginning. Quietly brilliant, utterly reliable, loyal to a degree that sometimes frightened me with its intensity. He knew me better than anyone, though perhaps thatonly meant he knew a fraction more than nothing at all.
"Shall we break our fast?" I suggested, suddenly eager to escape the weight of memory and the dangerous warmth that spread through me whenever I looked at him too long.
"Of course, Your Highness."
He moved toward the door with that fluid motion I'd watched for years without truly seeing. Now every step seemed calculated to draw attention to the play of muscle beneath fabric, to the warrior's grace that marked him as surely as any brand. When had I become so aware of him as something other than my faithful shadow?
The common room had transformed in daylight from the intimate space of the night before into an airy chamber where morning sun painted everything in shades of gold and cream. We were served a feast that would have fed half my father's court, fruit so ripe it seemed to glow from within, bread that crumbled like clouds between my teeth, cheese aged to perfection in caves I could only imagine. Cold milk beaded the pitcher with condensation, and I drank deeply, tasting freedom in every drop.
"Magnificent," I murmured, watching Rhazir arrange for porters to carry Priest Myris's gifts up to the palace complex.
He nodded absently, already focused onpractical concerns. "The climb will be easier without the burden."
Together we stepped into sunlight that seemed kinder here than it ever had at home, where it beat down on black volcanic stone like the fury of angry gods. Here it filtered through olive leaves and dancing vines, dappling everything in patterns of light and shadow that made the world seem painted rather than grown.
The path wound upward through terraces of impossible lushness, gardens where flowers bloomed in riots of color, fountains where water sang sweetly as it fell, groves where fruit hung heavy and ripe for the taking. It was abundance made manifest, nature shaped by loving hands rather than conquered by iron will.
"We battle the earth as much as we battle other men," Rhazir observed, his voice carrying notes of wonder despite his attempts at neutrality.
"Perhaps that is our greatest mistake," I replied, meaning it more than I'd expected to.
His dark eyes found mine, searching. "It is the way of our people."
The sadness in his tone cut deeper than any blade. Did he truly believe that, or was he simply repeating lessons hammered into him during those early years of brutal training? He'd been torn from everything he'd known, family, homeland, the very language of his thoughts, and forged into the perfectweapon through methods I preferred not to contemplate too closely.
Sometimes I wondered what remained of the boy he'd been before the Three Isles claimed him.
"Your Highness," he said suddenly, breaking into thoughts I hadn't realized had grown so dark. "Should I make inquiries about ships bound for home?"
The question hit me like cold water, washing away the warm contentment that had been building in my chest. "We have only just arrived, old friend."
"But His Majesty?—"
"No ship, Rhazir." The words came out sharper than I'd intended, carrying enough princely authority to make him step back slightly. Yes, I knew my father lay dying somewhere on the dark waters between here and home. Yes, I knew the crown waited for me like a patient predator. Yes, I knew lords would squabble and scheme until the succession was settled. But could I not have a few more days of this golden dream before the iron reality closed around me forever?
Before he could respond, a voice called out from the path ahead. "Your Highness! What perfect timing."
A priest approached with arms spread in welcome, his sea-green robes flowing like water around his lean frame. Behind him walked another figure, a man with silver hair that caught themorning light like polished precious metals, his bearing noble despite his simple garments.
“I am Callis. I welcome you to Eletheria. The high priests are occupied with morning prayers," the priest explained with apologetic grace, "but the palace fairly vibrates with excitement at your arrival. Everyone wishes to meet the Prince of the Three Isles."
He gestured to a young acolyte who waited nearby, the same beautiful youth who'd graced the temple grove yesterday, now clothed in robes that did nothing to diminish his ethereal appeal. “Ander will show you to your chambers. I trust you'll find them suitable."
The priest's attention shifted to his silver-haired companion, and something in his expression softened in a way that made my pulse quicken with recognition. Here was love, open and unashamed, displayed with the casual intimacy of those who need not hide their hearts.
"Until later, then," Callis said with another bow before gliding away, his companion falling into step beside him with matched grace.
I watched them go with something that might have been envy, then followed young Ander up paths that grew more magnificent with each turn. The palace complex unfolded before us like a fever dream of marble and gold, its gardens cascading down the hillside in waterfalls of color and scent.
Our chambers, when we reached them, stole what little breath I had remaining.
The rooms sprawled across an entire wing of the palace, their windows offering views that made the heart soar. Moonstones provided gentle illumination in shadowed corners while sunstones radiated warmth wherever it was needed. Books lined the walls in leather-bound rows, their titles promising adventures in languages I'd only dreamed of reading. Comfortable chairs invited long hours of contemplation, while a bed large enough for three men occupied one wall like an altar to luxury itself.
"Isn't this the most wondrous place?" I breathed, turning slowly to take in every detail.
Rhazir stood near the doorway, his expression carefully neutral. "It does seem full of wonders."
Something in his tone made me study his face more closely. "Why do you dislike it?"
