Tears burned in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall, blinking them back as the silence stretched.
“I never wished this for you, Eiri,” Kien finally said, almost too quiet to be heard through the door. “I will write to your mother and tell her the truth of what is happening. I don’t have the power to get you free of this place, not without the council behind me, but she could sway them.”
She likely could, but Eiri had to wonder if shewould. His was not the only loveless marriage the council had arranged, but it was one of the most important. Those sent to Kargha and Caranyvik were important to creating new allies, but those countries had never been outright hostile to Canjir. Their distance protected their coastlines from raids.
Their ties with Nevarre were more fragile, their coastal towns having been targeted more than a few times, but Queen Isadore was a fair ruler. Even before Eiri had left, new lines of commerce and communication were opening with Nevarre.
Vaetreas, though, was a different story entirely. Hundreds of miles of their coast sat just across the Karjul Straits, dozens of port towns stuffed to the brim with food and supplies ready to be shipped off to the highest bidder. They were prime targets for raids and over the years, Vaetrean ports had been the heaviest hit by his people, creating a tension between the two kingdoms that had turned to the hatred that existed now.
The only reason Canjir as a whole still existed was the protection provided by the Straits. According to the stories he’d been told, Canjir had once been part of the continent, connected by a strip of rocky land. They’d lived in the shadow of Anatau until the day it erupted so violently it collapsed in on itself, sinking into the ocean and creating the Straits.
The remnants of that volcano created a shallow, treacherousstretch of water between Canjir and the rest of the world. Craggy rocks beneath the surface scraped heavy ships apart, and the tides created whirlpools that sucked down smaller boats. The Canjiri were the only ones who had learned the secrets of navigating it and even they lost a few sailors every year to the depths.
“What if the council refuses? You know how important this alliance with Vaetreas is to them,” he finally said. “I want to believe my mother would support me, but…”
Again, Kien’s silence only confirmed his fears. “If the council refuses, then we will have to abide by their decision, no matter how much we disagree.”
Eiri scowled, impotent fury curdling within him. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re an ambassador, with diplomatic protection. You can leave any time you choose. I’m the one who will be stuck here until the day I die.” A day that grew closer and closer the longer he spent around Syrus.
“Let me write to her first, before you get too caught up in what could be. She is your mother and she loves you. That holds more power than you may realize. Please promise me you won’t do anything rash until I receive word from her.”
“I can’t promise that. I’ll do whatever I have to do to defend myself if Syrus threatens me again.”
“I am not saying that. I am asking you to keep your head down and stay calm until we get word back from Canjir. Please, Eiri,” Kien said, like he knew Eiri was about to object again.
“I’ll try. That’s the best I can do. I need you to hurry on this. Syrus was furious when he left, and I don’t know how much time I have before he does something about it.”
“The contract restrains him just as much as it does us, which will buy us some time. I will have a letter on the way before the hour is up. I took the liberty of findingcouriers I could trust when we first arrived, just in case. Give me a few days, that is all I ask.”
“That won’t be up to me.” Eiri shuddered, remembering the burning hatred in Syrus’ dark eyes. In all the times the two of them had faced each other, he’d never been afraid of the other man, but in those times, he’d always had an escape route. Here, he was trapped. Syrus had every advantage, while Eiri only had his magic and Kien.
Even after Kien left to send his letter, Eiri lingered by the door. The surge of energy from the fight was ebbing, leaving him tired and hollowed out. He sank to the floor right there, leaning against the heavy wood as he fought back the dark thoughts trying to consume him.
Kien’s letter back home was a useless gesture, and they both knew it. His mother cared for him, even if she didn’t love him quite like she loved Akari. Honestly, contacting his sister would be a better bet, as she would plead his case to their mother, but he had no way of contacting Kien to tell him that now.
Even if his mother did fight for him, though, the odds of her winning over the council were small. Canjir needed peace with Vaetreas. More importantly, they needed the trade agreements that would finally allow his people to afford the food and supplies their island couldn’t provide. Weighed against the unhappiness of one man, he knew what they would decide.
Still, the selfish part of him couldn’t help but hope they would prove him wrong. There had to be other ways to forge peace between the two kingdoms besides marriage. It wasn’t even working. If anything, his constant fights with Syrus and his refusal to give up his culture were making things worse. A more noble man would yield, would adapt to this new place for the sake of his people, but the very idea made Eiri sick. He was proud of who he was and where he came from. He wouldn’t hide who he was because of one insufferable bastard.
Newfound determination pushed him to his feet, combating the emptiness inside him. Kien could send his letter and Eiri would wait for the council’s decision, but he wouldn’t sit idly by. If things went the way he feared they would, he needed an escape plan of his own. He was not helpless. He was Canjiri. His people had endured even after their home had been destroyed. They’d stayed, and they’d survived.
Eiri would not be defeated by a single man, even if that man was his unwanted husband. Like his people, he would persist. He may have lost one fight to Syrus, but he would win this war.
Chapter 13
Syrus
“Areyou going to tell me what’s going on?”
Syrus ignored his cousin in favor of stalking down the hallway toward his borrowed room, which only fueled his temper. It’d been hours since his fight with Eiri, but it still felt fresh. His arm stung where the raider’s knife had sliced into him, the layer of bandaging almost visible against the fabric of his shirt. He’d wrapped it himself, not wanting anyone to know Eiri had gotten a hit on him.
“What happened with Eiri?”
Xan’s question stopped him in his tracks and he shot a glare at him. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re only this much of a cranky bastard anymore when it’s something involving your husband,” he shrugged, unfazed by Syrus and his temper. “So, what happened? Did you get into another argument? I’m assuming you found him, since you were at supper? Thank you for telling me I could stop looking, by the way.”
He chose to ignore Xan’s sarcastic comment. “Yes, I found him. Yes, we fought.” Syrus started walking again, but Xan easily kept pace.
