“I know why your brother Paris has no interest in wenching, but I’ve noticed that you refrain as well. Yet not for the same reasons. Why?”
He felt heat sting his cheeks as this inevitable question came up yet again. Why was everyone so fixated on his diet? Or lack thereof? It was bad enough that he was embarrassed by the fact that he was alone. Why did everyone have to keep making him explain it?
“Did you swallow your tongue,pido?”
“I think I died of shock, akra.”
She tsked at him. “Have you no answer for me? Or, like Paris, do you prefer the company of men as well?”
“In truth, I prefer to keep to myself, akra.”
Her look turned dark and foreboding. “You’re lying, Urian. You should never lie to a god. We can smell it on you.”
Shame filled him as he fidgeted with the edge of his shield. This was the one thing he’d never liked to speak about.
To anyone.
“Urian?”
He glanced up to meet her swirling silver gaze. “You know that I’m not like the others.”
“How do you mean?”
“They fear me, akra. Because of my eyes, they say that I’m even more cursed than the others.”
“Your solren has spoken to me of this foolishness and I’ve told him to pay it no heed. Neither should you.”
Tears choked him as his humiliation rose up again to burn like an inferno. “Easy for you to say, akra. And for Solren. But it’s hard when I’m the only one here who has to take my meals from a cup. And everyone knows it.”
“I see.”
But it was Urian who felt the pain and shame of it all. “That is why I keep to myself.… which is fine. Really. I’ve no desire to father children and watch them be faced with the decisions we have to make. I would much rather be alone.”
At least that was the lie he tried to convince himself to believe.
She moved to stand beside him so that she could brush her hand through his hair with a tenderness no one would believe her capable of. But she’d never hesitated to show it with him. At least whenever they were alone.
Sadly, she and his father were the only two who weren’t afraid of him.
And Davyn. For some reason, he’d always been a good friend.
“Poor child.”
He shifted uneasily under the weight of her sympathy. “Why are my eyes blue, akra?”
She cupped his cheek in her cold palm and turned his face so that he met her gaze. “Because you are special, Urian. Not cursed.Special.Never doubt that.”
“I don’t feel special.” He felt like a bastard stepchild. Hated and unwanted.
She tensed and pulled back as if something had disturbed her. “Your father’s looking for you. You’d best go before he worries.”
Nodding, he lifted his shield and bowed to her, then turned to leave.
“Urian?”
He paused and looked back over his shoulder. “Aye, akra?”
“Never doubt your destiny. Greatness isn’t something you feel. And it’s not taking up a challenge or a fight that you know you’ll win. Greatness comes when you’re scared and yet you take action against a greater foe, while others cower in terror and allow themselves to be victimized and do nothing to protect themselves or others. What you did today, both for Davyn and for me … that was greatness. And that you have in spades.”
