Chapter Two

Remus jolted him out of a doze by saying he should dress now.

"What's that smell?" Sébastien rubbed his eyes and straightened. Being hunched over hadn't been good for him.

"I used my spare shirt and managed to catch two fish."

Remus poked his clothes in. Sébastien managed to dress in the narrow space and finally came out. Remus had made a small fire and cooked the fish by poking sticks through the chunks. He must have discarded the heads and nasty bits in the water. Since his sleeves had been burned, he'd cut off the access and loose threads, leaving his arms bare.

"I figured you dozed off since you were quiet even with the smell."

"How long has it been?"

"Not that long. We can't stay much longer because they'll be riding and looking. We'll eat and go."

"How did you catch the fish?"

"I used my second shirt like a net and got lucky. I'm no fisherman, and it certainly wasn't skill. They practically swam in themselves."

Sébastien hadn't thought of that and assumed they'd be stuck finding wild fruit until they got closer to Biatano because there wasn't much else around. They also couldn't risk stopping by a village where everyone would remember them.

"Thanks."

The fish were good despite being plain. It wasn't a lot. Sébastien pretended he didn't want more after he ate a portion. Remus was bigger than him and needed it more since he was doing the work while they rode Whisper. Remus put out the fire and kicked fresh dirt on top, trying to hide it.

"Let's go. We'll stay off the road, stick closer to the stream for water, and head toward Biatano. They have a port there, and we'll figure out what to do. We'll need that money."

Poor Whisper needed oats instead of only grass while carrying them all day. He didn't complain. Sébastien felt rather guilty since he could sort of doze and not focus so much although he kept snapping out of it because he was constantly expecting something to happen even though he doubted the rest of the group would catch up to them that fast.

If Lord Rochefort was trustworthy and had no part in anything nefarious, he'd have everyone search locally. Afterward, he'd demand the men check Calmerra before moving on. They'd have to be careful since the people squatting there wouldn't like them poking around. He wasn't sure if the lord would demand they search the Castle too.

Either way, they'd start moving out to continue looking.

Remus had to stay awake since he had no one to lean on and needed to be alert, not that Whisper was hard to deal with. They loosely followed the stream, and Remus stopped them once so they could pick berries from a bush to eat. A tree nearby had fat corewons growing on it. Sébastien disliked them, but it was something to keep them fed. Remus used his old shirt to pick up the cuffs and wrap them before they dumped the fruit in the saddlebag on top.

The wine book and the letter in Uncle's handwriting lay inside, practically taunting Sébastien with a vicious truth.

It was nearly evening when Remus finally spoke. "If you don't want to talk, you can tell me to shut up, and I'll leave you be. If not, I want to know about the cuffs."

Sébastien held back a sigh. He'd known Remus wouldn't let that lie for long. "Normally, they're like any other piece of jewelry. If I get mad enough that my eyes turn red, I don't feel pain. It hasn't happened often."

"Do you mean like with whatever was used to poison the werewolves and everyone at Calmerra? Vemer said he felt no pain, and it seemed like our Fathers and the rest felt nothing."

"Similar, I guess. Paltua didn't cut me, but he got a few good slugs in when we fought, and he knocked me to the floor when he jumped on me. I felt it, so it's not like I didn't know I'd been hit, but it wasn't painful. It was like I could keep going no matter what. That went away when you got one cuff off."

He'd also been terrified with Remus wrestling him on the floor. The soreness from Paltua's attacks had returned, although that had been the least of his concerns.

"That's…" Remus stopped. "I'm not sure what to think about that."

"A South Sea fairy might have found a way to create a spell that makes it so the user doesn't feel pain. Some people don't feel anything when they're fighting. A soldier hyped up on bloodlust can get through a battle and only realize afterward that he's been cut or stabbed. Not everyone can do that. I would feel the hit or the cut. It wouldn't hurt, but I'd know it happened, so it's not quite the same. The rage has to reach the point where my eyes go red."

"How did you find out before what they can do?" pressed Remus.

"I was angry, and I punched the looking glass one night when I was fifteen. I saw my eyes, and the glass sticking out of my knuckles didn't hurt. What I'd seen and done rather stunned me, and once the anger I felt wore off, my hand hurt like a bitch."

"Er, what happened exactly?"

"I'm not going over it. You know the basic facts."

Besides the fit, nothing had happened with the cuffs back then. He'd worn them a few times to please Uncle and make it seem like he wasn't ungrateful for the present. He'd been planning to put them with the rest of the presents to hide. When Sébastien had finally reached a level of maturity in his looks to turn off Uncle's desire, he'd had a new worry.

He'd grown old enough for others his age to be interested. Crude attempts at flirting from a couple of young guards had told him enough. Others with eyes would see him as fresh meat and something to fuck so they could spend their desire on him. Part of him had also been afraid that in a way, they could see the filth ground into him and therefore viewed him as nothing more than a hole to use and discard.

Why not? Uncle had used and dropped him like a whore, and while nobody knew, it was time for them to have a turn. That didn't mean Sébastien was going to let anyone else have their way with him. He'd never been able to attack Uncle since he'd been too afraid, but he was sure he could manage it if needed with someone else.

He'd been pacing in his bedroom at Arquous with the cuffs while struggling with fury and too many feelings he couldn't get under control. He'd wanted to break something, smash it, kill his Uncle, and break himself. He'd seen his eyes in the looking glass right before he punched it.

His eyes had remained red in the splintered remains of his reflection, and he'd stared at his bloody knuckles. It should have hurt. Tiny shards had been sticking out, and skin had been scraped off.

The pain only came once his eyes returned to normal, and he'd gone to Maxime who had looked at him with pity before plucking out the glass and healing him. He'd never dared to admit the truth.

"So you kept them for that ability?" Remus finally said.

"If I went to war with the werewolves against Soleil, maybe they'd kick in while I'm fighting. If I died, I'd have a chance at a painless death. If a werewolf could use them better, that would aid my chances as a whole. Another small reason is I set aside secret money once Father and Remere died. Why not use the cuffs while fighting too? That's the money I'm carrying."

Remere twisted a bit to glance at him. "Lord Rochefort got money for you from the bank."

"I know. We had to take care of the wages, and I needed to pay someone to give us passage, but I had this money belt hidden in my trunk from day one. It's not from the treasury. It's from Uncle's gifts."

It was a way of saying "fuck you" to Uncle.

Remus grew quiet again. If he guessed what those presents were for, he was right, but Sébastien wasn't speaking of it. He could imagine the pity, and it grated on his nerves.

The past night and day had made him brittle, and that meant weak. Weak meant vulnerable, and so did pity.

It was almost night when they stopped in a grassy patch where they could lie down without having a tree root jammed in their back. The stream wasn't too far, so they drank, washed their hands and faces, and sat to eat.

The corewons had a skin like an orange and were eggplant-shaped. Sébastien had never liked them before, but he was so hungry by then, the tough, almost meaty flesh inside tasted nearly good.

"I used to eat these all of the time as a kid," said Remus. "I kinda lost my taste for them when I grew older."

"I'm eating them because we haven't got much else to pick from."

Remus tossed the peel of his last one out into the trees. Whisper, an enormous, pale shape, grazed near the edge of their spot. Remus had tried to offer him a piece of corewon, but unicorns didn't eat those, and Whisper had refused it. When he ambled by, Sébastien knew he was only going to drink from the stream. He'd be back. He hugged his knees in the dark since a fire at night likely wasn't the best idea. Remus said he'd feel better if they were farther away before risking one.

"I'm sorry about what happened," Remus said in a low voice, breaking the uncomfortable silence. The only other sound was a bird far away in the forest who hadn't gone to bed yet. "Is that what you told the werewolf?"

"Sort of."

In abstract terms without genuinely saying the words. The werewolf had understood it. How Sébastien wished Corentin had been in the room that night. If he'd done it sooner, it might have looked suspicious, and he'd wanted everyone to think the Prince was busy with his "toy."

Still…Uncle with his head completely torn off would have brought Sébastien unimaginable glee. He deserved such a death. He deserved a thousand deaths, each more painful than the last.

"Did you realize before the Regent might have had a hand in your situation?" Sébastien asked.

Remus paused and shifted. "Not until Calmerra. That means he's responsible for my Father's death too. Is this something you know for sure?"

"Not exactly. I suspected it before, but it's not like I could have asked anyone. Besides, your twin could have been a traitor all on his own, and I had no solid proof that Corentin worked with him. After that other guy, I think I was correct."

"That guy was a city guard." Remus told him what he'd said. "Sacrificial lamb is an older term."

"I know." Sébastien had read it in a book. In Rowland, it wasn't simply picking a random, expendable person to use for a nefarious purpose. It was picking someone weaker who had also pissed off the person intending to use them. That man hadn't had any magic besides healing, and pitting someone like that against two fairies with lightning and fire might not end well.

"He did something to piss off Quintus."

Remus grunted. "He was likely promised to be welcomed back with open arms and a decent reward if he succeeded, so he took the chance instead of fleeing. Maybe a family member was on the line or he had a crime on his head, fake or real. We might never know at this point. But yeah, I think it's pretty obvious that the Regent worked with my twin. I'm supposed to hate you, and if I did, I might have been tempted to work with that guard against you. And while we were fighting you, Lord Dubois and his men would have come."

"I think the Regent took a gamble, and it paid off. He showed Quintus a way to be the King, said he'd get me out of the way, gave him a hasty path to have it all done in a night, and put me with someone I'd hate. That's why Quintus's plan toward the end seemed rushed. The Regent was more concerned about pairing us together so we'd hopefully destroy each other. He likely guessed I'd go to Calmerra and see if I could find anything. If not…Biatano was still in my future."

Leaves crunched as Remus shifted. "That was quite a gamble. We did end up working together after a time, but what if we'd started that right away? You could have taken the risk and been honest with me-"

"Hardly. He knew I wouldn't trust Elira herself if she came down to help me. The son of our enemy made my anger into a tool, and he didn't want me to have any true friends. He's already proven that."

"How?"

"I had friends before. Most drifted away after Mother and Enzo's death. They acted awkward because a grieving Prince isn't so fun anymore, and I wasn't the same, so I think that was entirely on them. One stuck around, and I'm positive Uncle chased him off since he started avoiding me all of a sudden. Then there was a servant…"

He explained about Milly and how Sébastien's constant talking to her and hanging around had made Uncle decide to get rid of her. After that, he'd never tried to make friends. Why take the risk if Corentin was going to frame them? He wanted Sébastien to feel alone, and while he didn't tell Remus, it was so he could keep manipulating and abusing him while he quietly plotted for the future in case they went to war.

"That's beyond fucked up. Is she free now?"

"She had a five-year sentence, so yes. I don't know where she went. I'm sure Uncle was thrilled with his brilliant plan since he didn't want me to have any close influence unless he picked it. You were someone he wanted to influence."

"The Regent told me to be nice to you and try to get you to do your duty. If we grew friendlier, I was to guide you toward doing what he wanted. If not, he was hoping I'd stab you in the back. Oh, and he expected me to bed you which I thought was quite odd since I didn't suspect anything of him."

"Mhm. That was so he could present me as a slut who would even bend over for the son of the enemy. Like a whore." Sébastien spat the last word without quite meaning to.

"You're not a whore," said Remus.

Sébastien sure felt like one even though he'd never been with anyone else. Corentin had been enough to ruin him. Uncle had shamed him over his maturing body and made him feel as though he'd done something horribly wrong by simply growing older and not looking like a little boy anymore. Once Sébastien had outgrown Corentin's taste, he'd been dropped like a forgotten whore and emotionally abandoned.

The incident with Milly had scarred him. It was clear that Uncle had ensured his nephew would be as alone as possible and easier to deal with in the coming years even after the sexual abuse stopped.

Remus's arm was suddenly around his shoulders. "I know you likely feel as if you did, but you didn't do anything wrong."

How Sébastien wanted to believe that while a part of him ached to pull away. Remus didn't even know the part that was his fault.

Not touching was also safer because Remus sometimes gave him feelings that he shouldn't have. He made Sébastien want things he shouldn't desire and didn't deserve. He wasn't like Remus who hadn't been sullied.

"I don't know what he told you, but it's not true," said Remus. "He did something wrong, not you, and he took advantage of you. That doesn't make you a whore."

Remus leaned over as he squeezed and rested his chin on Sébastien's head. Sébastien's eyes burned because in the few times he'd allowed intimate touch, including kissing Remus, it had been like a glimpse into normalcy. He'd never had anything like that before, and he'd craved to know what it could be like.

People were supposed to want to touch, kiss, and simply be together. They were supposed to want to fuck and do it without shame or fear.

But they weren't tainted. Nobody had forced wine into them until they were too drunk to fight back, dragged them to their bedroom, and held them down with a hand to their throat. Sébastien's chest tightened like it always did when he remembered the fear of not being able to fully catch his breath. Or worse: when it was entirely blocked off.

"Do you want to go to sleep?" asked Remus. "I'll keep watch and get you up later. You really need some rest."

Like he didn't? Sébastien's eyes still stung because it was like Remus was trying to give him a way out and a reprieve. Hours to feel nothing would be bliss to most. He'd given Sébastien a way out before in the cabin, and it was still foreign. Escaping wasn't supposed to be allowed.

"Yeah," he finally said. "We both need sleep."

"I'll stay up first."

Remus took away his arm, and Sébastien immediately wanted it back even though Remus couldn't shield him from everything. And he shouldn't. He didn't need that. He certainly shouldn't want someone to hug him and tell him that it'd somehow be all right because that was a fantasy.

He didn't see how Remus could even bear to touch him either since he was so filthy.

***

"Sébastien."

He was vaguely aware of the ground under him before he started drifting off again.

"They are her children, and I'm taking them with me whether you like it or not. I'll also fight for them whether you like it or not!"

"Wake up."

Remus's voice made him jerk awake with his heart hammering as the words rang in his head.

"I'm sorry," said Remus. "I know you're tired. I need some sleep before we go."

Sébastien sat up. "I'm awake."

Whisper huffed in the dark as Remus lay down to sleep. Sébastien rubbed his eyes and tried to remember what he'd dreamed in those few seconds. It made no sense. Then again, dreams were often stupid nonsense. It was better than a nightmare.

Physically, he felt a bit better since he'd had a long break from the saddle, and his mind had rested, although he could have slept for far longer. Mentally? He could think straighter and keep certain things away. Remus hadn't decided Sébastien could go fuck himself and run off in the night, so that was good. He tried to remember his dream again and failed.

It wasn't like it mattered.

He hadn't been up for very long when the sky started its gradual shift into dawn, and he realized Remus had let him sleep for ages. He should have had them switch earlier. Instead, he'd sacrificed his rest so Sébastien could sleep longer.

That and the kiss…It was almost like Sébastien was…there was no point in thinking about it.