No Canjiri willingly chose to live in Vaetreas.
“How thrilling.” Kien leveled a cool, steady look at the two Vaetreans until they turned away, muttering under their breaths. Eiri caught a few filthy looks thrown their way, which he was used to, though one of them added in a slur that had him exchanging quick looks with Kien.
“I don’t think it bodes well for me if the ship’s crew are comfortable saying things like that within earshot. I can’t imagine it’s going to be much better in the city.”
“If Prince Syrus has any integrity, he will put a stop to it once you’re married. Though anyone with true honor would have ensured it never happened in the first place,” Kien added, as though plucking the words straight from Eiri’s thoughts.
“Unfortunately, you give him too much credit.” He couldn’t bring himself to say the man’s name. It made everything feel more real than he was ready for. “He hates me just as much as I hate him.”
“Do I need to go to his chambers tonight?”
Eiri nearly choked, eyes wide. “I beg your pardon?” Had his companion just offered to assassinate his husband on their wedding night?
“The two of you will be alone, at least for this evening,” Kien explained calmly. “If you’re worried for your safety, I can find a way to ensure I’m there. I’m here to protect this alliance, after all, and if you die on the first night, that’s a spectacular failure on my part.”
That made more sense. Eiri huffed in relief. As much as he hated his betrothed, he hated being imprisoned even more, and he would be the first and only suspect if the man died.
“I can handle myself against him. I appreciate the offer, though.”
“Perhaps you could before, but he has the advantage. We’re in his territory now.”
“I’m still a better fighter than him. If he tries to touch me, I’ll gut him like a fish.”
Kien tilted his head, studying him. “Good. I’d worried you may have gotten some fool idea about trying to seduce him.”
“What? Absolutely not!” Eiri spluttered. “He’s not my type, even if he weren’t Vaetrean.”
While he stood taller than most Canjiri, his skinny frame had left him looking lanky and awkward through his teenage years. Working as a raider, he’d developed lean muscle as an adult and grown into his height. A previous lover had called him ‘cat-like’. The people he’d been with had all been of similar build, which wasn’t uncommon, given how hard they had to work just to get the bare minimum. His trysts had been fleeting, fun while they lasted and no hard feelings when it ended.
Syrus Vardor couldn’t have been more different. While he stood an inch or two shorter than Eiri, Syrus was built like a barrel, strong and muscled, but with a soft stomach that said he’d clearly never missed a meal. Scars from years as a soldier marked his dark skin, more than a few of them put there by Eiri himself. A short, neat beard covered the lower half of his face, enhancing a strong jawline and lending a rakish air to his slightly crooked nose.
In short, Syrus Vardor was Eiri’s opposite in every possible way. Maybe in some other life, where he wasn’t Vaetrean and on the side of oppression, perhaps Eiri would have considered a fling with him. One night might be fun, after all.
In this life, though, he and Syrus were on opposite sides of a conflict that defied resolution. When he spared a thought for his betrothed, it wasn’t lust he felt, but anger and resentment. The Vardor family had orchestrated the suffering of the Canjirifor centuries, and Syrus was cut from the same mold. Nothing would ever make Eiri even consider him.
“I never believed you would seriously consider that an option, but I had to be sure.”
“I understand,” he murmured, and he did. “I can assure you, though, that there will never be anything between him and me. With any luck, we’ll never have to see each other after this ridiculous ceremony.”
“You’re going to be married to the man. It will be hard to avoid him.”
“This is purely politics. They will probably give us the smallest guest rooms they can get away with without breaching protocol, likely in a section of the palace as far from the royal family as they can put us. For all they know, we could be assassins. They can’t take that risk.” He bit back a tiny smirk, taking a glimmer of satisfaction at the thought of being an inconvenience for the Vardor family. It wasn’t much, but his victories would be few and far between from now on, and he would savor what he could get.
“I hope you’re right. Neglect is the best we can hope for from these people. Expecting acceptance or goodwill is a fool’s hope and neither of us are fools,” Kien said. He leaned against the railing, dark eyes locked on the city as it inexorably grew closer.
“No, we are not fools. We’re Canjiri, and that means we’re survivors.” A fierce determination gripped Eiri, throttling the despair trying to take root. “Our people learned how to tame the desert and the ocean. When Anatau erupted and destroyed our home, the Canjiri survived when everyone said it was impossible. Compared to that, this is simple. We will stand strong and we will survive.”
“Stand strong and survive.” Kien agreed, the same resolve burning in his eyes.
Eiri fed the fire within himself as the docks appeared ahead of them, waiting to take him to a life he never asked for. Danger awaited him in Vaetreas, but he would overcome it. He would keep his guard up and expect treachery around every corner, so when it came, he would be ready. His honor and his heritage were at stake here, and he would not fail his people.
Stay strong and survive.
Chapter 4
Syrus
The setting suncast long shadows across the room, softening the sharp corners and angles of the furniture and lending a golden warmth usually missing from the suite. The fading light danced across a glass bottle, the only item on the desk, sending tiny rainbows flickering across the wall before Syrus picked up it, ruining the effect.
