I went over the situation once more in my head. Factored in all the risks and benefits. It was very simple. One man wasn't worth an entire race. Besides, even if I lived, I might die later from starvation. Better to die now in honor than starving in shame.
I lifted my chin.
“I will tear out your fucking heart!” the man shouted in my face.
“I'm told that I don't have one. I suppose that answers your earlier question.”
He blinked. Then he drew back his hand and hit me.
Again, I won't go into the details. The beating was painful. It lasted a long time. Obviously, they were still hoping that I would capitulate. I would not. Pain does not sway me. Not with a mind like mine. I simply separated myself from the physical sensations, retreating into a mental state. It's an easy enough technique if you take the time to learn it. A few deep breaths, a raising of your consciousness, and then you're in a cocoon of your own creation. Everything soft and muted.
The pain was still there, but I wasn't. I was somewhere else. And in that other place, I realized I would always have it as a refuge. Any pain could be escaped there. But I wasn't worried about heartache, was I? Love wasn't real. I liked the King, but I'd never love him. Would I? Perhaps I dismissed the possibility of succumbing to an emotional bond too quickly. As a man of intellect, I knew that anything was possible. Did that shift my concerns? Add to the risk? I wasn't sure. My cocoon was a good place to find answers, though. So, I searched myself as they did their worst. And I was just as critical as they were.
One thing was evident; those who believed I was heartless were wrong. I had a heart in both the literal and figurative sense. I could show compassion. I wouldn't have held that boy so tightly or run so quickly with him if I were heartless. Nor would I be concerned about the person who may die because I wouldn't solve Kun-lo's murder in time. A man with no heart wouldn't feel such things. He certainly wouldn't allow himself to be murdered to save his race. Or a king.
Did that mean I was capable of the kind of love King Tor'rien spoke of? No. Not necessarily. I still didn't believe in the true love of poetry and romantic stories. Such an unfailing devotion couldn't exist without coercion or magic. But I was believing more and more in the pleasure that came from thoseunreliable ephemeral emotions. There was no denying that I found pleasure in the King's presence. Even when he annoyed me. Which made no sense. But accepting nonsense seemed to be a current theme in my life.
I had to explore the possibility that the pleasure I gained from forming an emotional attachment with the King might be worth the risk involved. I would simply have to be careful about issuing commands. As in, I could speak nothing even vaguely dominating in his presence again. Why worry about risking emotional pain when I could retreat into my mind? In that safe place, I could heal and see things more rationally. Thus, no risk. Had I just reasoned away my reluctance to be with King Tor'rien? Yes, perhaps I was twisting things to suit my base needs. I could see that there as well. But all of this wouldn't matter if that Eljaffna killed me.
I sighed and stopped fighting the pull of death. I had no control over it. The rational thing would be to get it over with quickly.
But death never came.
Slowly, I became aware that retreat was unnecessary. I surfaced. There was pain, but it was decreasing in intensity. It was the pain of the past—wounds already administered. I blinked, my senses returning. Someone was holding me. Stroking my face.
“Tekhan. Why isn't he responding? His eyes are open.”
“I don't know, Your Majesty.”
“Tek!” The King shook me. “Tek, you stop that! Come back. Now! I need you to come back to me!”
I surfaced fully from my trance and realized who was there—who was holding me. “No,” I whispered. “I didn't mean to. You shouldn't be here.”
“Oh, thank the Gods,” the King exclaimed. Then he pressed our foreheads together. “You're all right. Tell me you're all right.”
“Get out! You need to go!” I tried to sit up, but my arms wouldn't work.
“Will you stop telling me to go away?!” He lifted his face to glare at me, but then his stare shifted to the sides. “Great fuck. What did they do to you?”
I looked to the right, but I didn't focus on my broken arm. Instead, I took in the Eljaffna. They were on the ground in different states of injury. The King's Dragon knights stood around them. Even as my safety registered, talons came swarming into the room. They looked at me and then at the Eljaffna.
“Take those bastards into custody before I kill them all!” the Dragon King roared.
“Yes, Your Majesty!” someone said.
“What did they do? What are the charges?” someone else asked.
“Treason,” I whispered.
The King's head jerked back toward me. “What did you say?”
“Help me up, please.”
Gently, as if I were made of thin glass, the King angled me upward. He still held me, bracing my back against his chest, but I felt a little better addressing talons upright.
“These people conspired to manipulate the King,” I said. “Charge them with treason and with the capture and torture of a claw.”
“Uh, is there any evidence?”
