Unfortunately, they had to find out, and it didn’t seem likely they would learn it from him, which only left Kien.
He jerked open the door again, biting back a laugh when the man jumped in surprise.
“What of Kien C’Marlo, the man who accompanied me? He’s an ambassador from Canjir. Is he being held prisoner in his room, as well?”
“My orders don’t include anyone else, so I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him.” He smirked. “Or, I suppose you can’t, can you?”
“I’ll find out when he comes to see me, which I’m sure he will. As an ambassador, he has diplomatic rights that outrank even a queen’s orders, which means you can’t stop him from entering,” Eiri shot back. The guard curled his lip, but he couldn’t deny the truth, something that gave Eiri a vicious bit of satisfaction.
“That will be all. Enjoy staring at the wall.” He shut the door before the guard could respond, locking it behind him for good measure. At least they hadn’t thought to take the key from the interior lock. It wouldn’t stop a mage or even a determined kick, but it was better than nothing.
He didn’t know how long it would take Kien to catch wind of what was going on, but surely it wouldn’t be too long. The man was usually awake before Eiri was, so he’d no doubt come looking for him soon. He hadn’t seen him at all yesterday, caught up in his fights with Syrus. That alone should be enough to have his friend looking for him.
Until then, though, he was stuck in the bedroom of a man he was growing to genuinely hate. He’d always disliked Syrus just on principle. The man was a Vaetrean, which was bad enough, but he was also a prince and a soldier. They’d faced each other countless times when Syrus and his soldiers attempted to stop a raid, but it was predictable. In a way, Eiri had come to anticipate those fights. The two of them were evenly matched, and it usually ended in a draw, despite the scars they left on each other. He probably could have won if he’d used his magic, but he’d never needed to, and there were some secrets that needed to be kept at all costs.
For a moment, when he’d learned they were to be married, he’d even imagined they could end up as allies, if nothing else. They were both being forced into it, so that was one thing they had in common. It was a fool’s hope, of course, and every interaction they’d had since then proved to Eiri that Syrus was just as dishonorable and untrustworthy as the queen.
With nothing better to do and no idea when Kien would come looking for him, Eiri decided to snoop. He’d stayed away from Syrus’ things until now, in part because he didn’t care to get caught looking. Seeing as Syrus was probably the cause of Eiri being locked in, it didn’t seem likely now that the man would be returning to the bedroom any time soon. It was a wise decision, as Eiri could have happily smothered Syrus with the bed curtains right now, but it meant he could be as nosy as he’d like.
The wardrobe yielded nothing of interest, as expected.Vaetrean clothing was stiff and structural, everything in dark colors more suited for a funeral than a palace. Syrus chose clothes that appeared to be more functional, rather than fashionable, but they were still boring. Even his shoes and boots looked uncomfortable, made of the best leather available, but cut into a shape almost guaranteed to pinch the wearer’s toes.
Poking around the dressing table yielded only a tiny jewelry box and a single stick of kohl shoved to the back of a drawer out of sight. The jewelry box was nearly as empty, with only a few rings and simple chain necklaces inside. The tailor Syrus had attempted to foist upon Eiri had informed him that Vaetrean men did not wear earrings, especially not ones as gaudy as Eiri’s.
That comment was the one that’d led to Eiri kicking her out, actually. He was proud of the line of delicate hoops and colorful studs running up his ears, each of them representing an important milestone or achievement. Most importantly, they were a constant reminder of his home and family.
Moving on from the bedroom, Eiri made his way to the small study just off the living area. Syrus had a full suite of rooms for his personal use. He’d peeked into all of them, but had only entered the bedroom and washroom so far. Syrus didn’t seem the type to make much use of the office, but it was the most likely place to look for anything interesting.
The first surprise was finding the door locked. On his first night in Syrus’ rooms, he’d opened every door, of course. So in the intervening days, Syrus had locked this one room.
Interesting.
Syrus should have known better, though. Eiri didn’t even need his magic to open the tumblers, just a few seconds and a cloak pin he pilfered from the wardrobe. The lock popped open with ease and he slipped the pin into his pocket, just in case.
The first time he’d seen the office, thedesk had been a mess, papers and letters scattered across the surface. Given Syrus’ status as a prince, he’d just assumed the man needed to hire a new secretary. Now, it would appear he didn’t have one, which wasn’t a surprise, really.
Now, the desk was empty, not even a pen marring the pristine surface. Eiri wandered over, taking a brief detour past the single bookshelf in the room. As expected, it was full of dusty history books and thick, dry tomes of law. Just as boring as his husband.
A solid wooden chair sat before the desk, but even a thick cushion couldn’t make that monstrosity comfortable. Still, he took a seat, examining the desk with a critical eye. Drawers lined each side, and a slender one ran beneath the length of the desk. All were locked, which wouldn’t be a problem, but Eiri could feel the faintest hint of magic on each one. Syrus hadn’t just locked up his office; he’d warded it, as well.
“Well, now I can’t resist,” he muttered, sliding down out of the chair to sit cross-legged in front of the drawers. He couldn’t see the wards themselves, but he could feel the tingle of them prickling across his fingertips when he touched the lock. Since Syrus had no magic of his own, they were likely attuned to his touch by whatever mage had set them.
Mages on the continent all used sigils and spells to set their work. Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, that hadn’t been necessary. Magic in the world had been stronger, and a mage needed only to draw on their own power to make things happen. Historians and storytellers alike had called it a golden age of progress, when the grand palaces had been built up by the great mages of the time.
No one knew what had caused the decline of magic since then, but now mages depended on spells, crystals, reagents, and sigils to do their work. Offensive spells had to be prepared ahead of time, usually in spell bags, while defensive spells tookthe form of wards and shields bound to symbols etched into walls. Magic was still useful, but slow and cumbersome, nothing like the legends said.
That was the case for most mages, anyway.
Eiri dipped his fingers in the pool of magic within him, calling it forward. He couldn’t break the wards without it being obvious, but he could alter them enough to let him in. His magic called on water, which made adding a drop of his blood to the ward quite simple. Just one little push of magic and the wards were now attuned to him, as well.
If mages on the continent knew how different Canjiri magic truly was…
The first drawer yielded only blank sheets of paper and a few pens and pencils. Why they’d wasted a ward on that, Eiri would never understand. Unless it was an attempt to keep Eiri from writing home, but that made no sense, as he could just have Kien provide him with what he needed.
The second drawer was slightly more interesting. Stacks of old journals lay inside, the covers all shades of green. Considering the walls of the bedroom, it was easy to guess what Syrus’ favorite color was.
Eiri picked up the journal at the top of the stack and flipped it open, his curiosity aroused.
“You desperately need a secretary,” he muttered after scanning the first page. Syrus’ handwriting was atrocious. It looked more like someone had dipped a chicken’s feet in ink and let it run across the page. Deciphering it was a nearly impossible task, but eventually, Eiri could make out a few words, enough to realize the journal appeared to be an inventory of some sort. Each page held the name of a city at the top, and after the first few, it became apparent that they were Vaetrean garrison cities.
