Chapter Four

The cough racked his body, and he lurched forward as copper filled his mouth again.

"Get it out."

He found himself on his side and leaning over a silver bowl as someone gripped his shoulder. The mattress was wet, the pain was gone from his throat, and he felt like he'd inhaled water. Liquid rattled in his lungs as he coughed. Red flecked the bottom of the bowl, and his gut decided to empty itself.

Burning liquid, chunks from dinner, and more blood poured out in a heave that left him breathless and with a foul taste in his mouth.

"Feel better?" asked the unfamiliar voice.

"No," gasped Remus.

"At least you don't have a hole in your throat anymore. I figured some blood had gotten into your lungs and stomach."

Remus fell back on the mattress, and the guard who had been holding the bowl made a face. "Erm."

"Just put it down," said the other man who wore plain black clothes similar to the Prince, except they were looser. His face was friendlier despite the lines around his eyes.

Remus had imagined it. He'd been sick and feverish which explained the bloody vomit. It was also why he was sweating and weak. The fever had given him a terrible nightmare. He couldn't have lived if the Prince had stabbed him in the throat.

But the guard had blood all over his hands, it had soaked into the mattress, and the cloth that the physician was using to clean his hands bore streaks of it.

"What the fuck happened?" Remus's voice was still raspy, and he could hear a slight wheeze in his lungs.

The physician gave him a wary look. "Do you remember any of it?"

"The Prince stabbed me in the throat."

A servant entered with another bowl, a cake of soap, and a cloth draped over his arm. His eyes widened at the sight as he set the items on the floor.

The physician crouched and took the soap as the servant hurried out. "Tom said Prince Sébastien came late from the after-dinner entertainment and ordered him away from your door. He-the Prince I mean-went in, and when Tom heard him yelling, he ran in. He thought you were hurting Prince Sébastien, but he had stabbed you in the throat. He said to leave you and walked out. Tom shouted for the other guards and got on you to put pressure on your throat."

No wonder he was covered in blood.

"Someone fetched me." The physician rubbed his soapy hands in the bowl of clean water. "You're lucky because if someone had been a few seconds too slow, you would have been past help. I had to stick my finger in the hole to heal the wound."

Remus almost shuddered as he glanced at Tom. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. I'd say Elira blessed you because I thought you were gone."

He'd disobeyed a direct order. Sébastien wasn't around and threatening him or trying to kill Remus again. He remembered what the Prince had said before his sudden attack. It made no sense. Loyalty for what?

"Why did he do that? I didn't do anything. I was sleeping, and…" It was hard to think.

The physician shrugged. "Tom, go clean up. I highly doubt Remus is about to attempt an escape now."

"Where is Prince Sébastien?" asked Remus.

"In his rooms, I guess. Tom said he seemed…strange. Maybe he had a bit too much to drink."

That didn't matter. Remus had gotten himself smashed on whiskey before and not once had he ever gone into someone's room and stabbed them in the neck. He pushed himself up since the feel of his blood on the mattress was sticky and foul. Normally, blood wouldn't bother him, but he'd never laid in his own like that before. His head swam, and the room tilted.

"Don't get up," said the physician.

"I'm not. The blood-it's disgusting. What do you mean he's in his room?" Remus slumped over on his left side and tried to wipe his hands on the silk sheets. They were already ruined. "He nearly killed me."

"What do you expect to be done?"

The stiff question and the physician's expression said he didn't approve of it either, but what could they do? Remus wasn't a Prince or even a commoner there, and the physician couldn't order royalty about. Sébastien couldn't walk around and murder people on a mere whim, and nobody wanted a ruler like that, but slaves didn't have rights.

The physician dried his hands on a cloth. "The guards had an issue with someone…a certain guest you might know about."

"Meph?"

"If you know or did anything, you better start preparing your defense."

"I've been locked in here for hours. What could I have done?" Sébastien had mentioned loyalty, so was he pissed that Remus had spoken to the demon like an equal? He didn't see the problem in that because while the demon wasn't a Soleilian, he wasn't an enemy either, and he'd approached Remus. "If you know something, tell me."

"I don't know what exactly happened."

Remus narrowed his eyes. "If you're warning me, you do know, and don't I deserve a chance?"

The physician shrugged. "You're a slave, but you're a bit more important than a typical one. Not by much, but a little. I'm warning you to be careful."

Remus looked away. He might as well have been a roach.

"Remember that. You inhaled and swallowed blood. I gave you some stuff while you were still unconscious, but you won't be in good shape so quickly. Er, try to take it easy, and if you need something, shout for Tom. I'll let the servants take care of things. Drink plenty of water, and take the medicine I'll get for you."

A physician couldn't reverse blood loss so he'd be weak for a while. Remus wasn't sure if he could stay conscious when he got off of the bed to sit on a sheet that a slave brought. It took a minute for the lightheadedness to decrease to a more manageable level. Two guards watched while two slaves sponged the filth from his body, and another pair took away the ruined bedding. Servants brought in a new mattress with fresh sheets and pillows.

A servant brought a glass of orange juice and said to drink it because something sweet would help.

Once Remus was free of blood, the room was cleaned, and he had finished the juice, he collapsed in his bed again. Another servant brought him a small cup with bitter liquid that he swallowed.

Tom poked his head in along with another guard after the servant left. "I'm sorry. I didn't know anything like that would happen. No man deserves to be stabbed in his bed."

Remus widened his eyes. "It's not your fault."

"Still…" Tom cast his eyes down. "Do you want the light out?"

"Yes, please."

Once the door was shut and he was alone in the dark, he veered between fear and anger. The Prince could come back to finish the job. Would Tom and the others protect him? No. They might try to refuse to let him in, and once their job or heads were threatened, they'd move. In the end, Sébastien had more power. Maybe the Prince had been drinking, and his words had been drunken babble, but the hate had been real.

He wouldn't last long here as a status symbol to dress up and parade around as a show of wealth. The hate ran deep, and Remus understood that, but he thought some shred of decency would have remained despite being the son of the people that Sébastien despised. Remus hadn't permitted werewolves to enter Soleil. He'd never directly done anything to a member of the Prince's family.

But he was the son of the man who'd acted as if mad, gutted King Jean, and raped his corpse when they were supposed to be having peace negotiations.

***

In the morning, he awoke to find he'd coughed brown flecks onto his pillow. A servant changed the bedding, and a slave brought him a large breakfast. Spectacles and Pointy came to ensure he ate all of it. When Remus tried to bring up the previous night, they told him to not worry about it and focus on getting his strength back.

Don't worry about it? Was he supposed to pretend that it had merely been an inconvenient incident? While he ate the meal which was heavy in bread and sugar, he mulled over the physician's words.

It was a little easier to think, not that he felt like his typical self. He was a gift, so that's what the man had meant by Remus being a little important. Killing him was like telling Quintus to go fuck himself.

Peace can be a delicate thing even after a treaty. Werewolves still ran around Midland, Rowland, and South Sea which was much farther south and mostly devoid of fairies. One of Soleil's initial plans besides taking over Rowland was to annihilate the werewolves in that area too which would have tripled their land.

That hadn't happened, and Corentin had made no demands involving werewolves except that they be forbidden from getting on ships bound for Soleil. Lupo had agreed to that.

While things were currently "fine," killing Remus would be a grave insult. It could lead to war, not that Quintus would do it out of respect or brotherly love. That was clearly gone. He might do it, like a man feeling he must fight after another insults his honor.

But he might not want to, and things would go on, except Remus would be dead.

Also, if Remus was quietly killed and disposed of like rubbish in the future, Soleil could claim illness, and again, Quintus might not do anything. That was still a rather dangerous game to play.

The only one who could punish Sébastien was the Regent since he held the main power. Remus would like to see him dangle from a rope, but that wasn't happening. Maybe Sébastien had a false accusation up his sleeve, something that would be worthy of death for Remus, and that's what he needed to defend himself against.

Sébastien would certainly lie if it suited him. There was no shred of decency in him. The hate between their families had blackened his heart too much, and it didn't matter if Remus wasn't responsible.

Once he'd finished, he was cuffed and brought to the bathing rooms to be washed by two female slaves as usual. He was allowed to sit by the side of the pool since he still felt weak despite breakfast. When he asked to wash himself, the answer was no.

Spectacles had more water brought to him and ordered him to drink. It would help his blood replenish.

He was permitted a plain tunic and brought downstairs. He thought he'd be taken to his rooms to continue recovering. Instead, he was brought to the entrance of the Petitioner's Hall. Courtiers were inside, and beside the entrance was Sébastien in his usual black with the laces perfectly even and snug.

He gazed at Remus like the previous night never took place and had the nerve to allow a smirk to grow on his face. Hot rage suddenly burned in Remus's chest, and if it wasn't for the guards and a roomful of people, he might have lunged, wrapped his large hands around that slim, white throat, and squeezed. Squeezed until the Prince stopped fighting, went limp, and died like anyone should after attempting such cold-blooded murder.

Sébastien held out a hand for the lead. "I'll take him."

"Your Majesty." Gossip must have spread like fire, and the guard hesitated.

"Are your ears clogged?"

"No, Your Majesty."

"Free his wrists."

The chain between his cuffs was removed, and Remus had no choice but to allow himself to be led in. Sébastien walked upright and straight like he had nothing to fear or be ashamed of. Last night was justified in his mind.

Remus took a deep breath and cast his eyes around. Several of the courtiers had their slaves, but nobody was getting sucked off. Ladies hid their lower faces with fans and squinted at the pair as if trying to decide who was the innocent party in this matter, and lords wore grim expressions.

The purple runner was plush under Remus's bare feet, and he glanced up at the dais. Corentin waited on the cushioned throne and tapped his fingers on the armrest as if his nephew had done a minor thing that he needed to be scolded for before being told to go run outside and play. Behind him, the tapestry on the wall showed the crest with a lynx's face atop a full moon.

They stopped ten feet from the dais and performed a neat bow to the appropriate level. Remus knew that in Soleil, they spoke afterward with the highest ranking going first.

"Uncle," said Sébastien.

"Your Majesty." Remus wasn't sure if he could stand through the whole thing, and he might as well conserve his strength instead of waiting until he grew too worn out. Since he had enough slack in the lead, he sank to his knees to wait.

Corentin gazed at his nephew, and his chest moved as if letting out his breath. "Sébastien, do you want to explain your actions last night? I was told you went into your slave's room and stabbed him in the throat. Your parents would roll over in their tombs if they knew this."

"I had a reason," said Sébastien.

Remus made an effort to relax his hands which had balled into fists.

"Your parents would approve of that?" Corentin straightened up on the throne. "He is a slave, and his family has done wrong things, but the Cadieux family doesn't stab unarmed, chained men in the throat while they sleep under our roof."

"He was awake, and I looked him in the eye before I did it," Sébastien announced. A few courtiers murmured as he turned to Remus. "Didn't I?"

It was the truth, so Remus forced the words out and addressed them to the King. "Yes, Your Majesty." Corentin spared him a glance.

"He went behind my back like a snake and endangered me, Uncle," said Sébastien. "It seems whoever spoke of these events forgot a few things. I'm sure they forgot about Meph too."

"I did hear about Meph, but I don't see that that has to do with your slave. What happened with the demon? I want to hear that first."

"Meph put his hands on me," Sébastien said in a cool tone. "I was attempting to return to my rooms last night. He caught me on the way and impeded me. He wanted to come to my bed and, as he put it, ‘show you the best time of your life.'"

A few snorts and chuckles were hastily quieted, although Remus caught quite a few nasty remarks about Meph being so forward.

"Continue," said Corentin. "I want to know what else he said."

Sébastien hesitated before he spoke, and his tone grew stiffer. "After I rejected him, he backed me into an alcove, called me an Ice Prince, and said I needed someone to thaw me out. I told him I could have anyone in my bed, and I do, but I wasn't interested in him. He still refused to back down and said my slave wouldn't mind if he took my attention for a night, and Remus thinks I need thawing too."

Remus's stomach sank. He hadn't meant it like that or thought Meph would be such a dick about it if he were rejected.

"He grabbed my shoulders, and I shouted. Guards pulled him away, and he tried to punch one."

For Elira's sake, it sounded like Remus had told Meph to assault the Prince. Meph had twisted the words around with the sole focus of getting in the bed of an attractive fairy Prince. Being rejected, he'd done what some men might do: get annoyed and resort to insults to guilt the other into agreeing. Remus never understood the logic of putting someone down in the hopes of a quick screw. Calling someone an Ice Prince certainly wasn't going to make them ready to jump into bed. The demon had likely been drunk too, not that it excused him.

It also didn't excuse Sébastien for ramming a damn dagger into Remus's throat.

Corentin rubbed his chin and looked at the guards by the door. "Bring the demon in."

At best, Remus could return to his rooms and Sébastien wouldn't try to murder him again, but he was sure the Regent would punish him for this.

Would he be allowed to speak his piece, or did his side of things not count?

A few guards by the doorway looked out into the hall and said something. Two guards brought Meph in with his wrists shackled behind his back. They hadn't collared him, and Remus had a moment of fear. If lirek didn't stop a demon's magic, what would prevent him from attacking in a roomful of people?

Remus didn't even know what he was capable of since demon magic wasn't the same as fairies. The demon might have only held back so far to see where things would go since a real fight could end with him injured or possibly dead.

Meph scowled as he was brought to stand by Remus and shoved to his knees. "Your Majesty." Someone must have told him the correct thing to do, although they should have told him to leave off the snotty tone.

Corentin asked him about the previous night, and Meph didn't try to deny it.

"It's not like I was going to rape him," he said after he'd confirmed the exchange. "I had a lot to drink while we watched the play-the entertainment you brought in for me, I might remind you."

"That doesn't give you permission to assault anyone at my court," said Corentin. "We had music and a play because you're a guest. Is this how guests are supposed to act at your home after they've been treated kindly?"

Meph huffed. "I was interested. He is a bit cold, and I thought he'd loosen up."

"You don't dare grab my person without permission," Sébastien said with a barely concealed edge.

Remus dared to glance at a few courtiers who seemed to agree. Of course, that logic didn't extend to slaves.

"I didn't mean violence when I took your shoulders-"

"Grabbed," said Sébastien. "There's a difference. How was I supposed to know if you planned to attack me?"

"I had a lot to drink," Meph said again as if that excused it all. "That doesn't mean I planned on attacking."

"You're to leave my Kingdom today," declared Corentin. "You'll have an armed guard until the border, and you'll never return. I suggest you stay out of trouble wherever you go because other rulers might not be so merciful. I don't wish to kill anyone from another realm, but my subjects will not be assaulted by them either, especially my nephew who is the Crown Prince and future King of Soleil. He's not a whore to accost in the hallway."

He couldn't say the real reason. If he put the demon in prison, he'd attempt to get out. Meph might not even get to prison. A bunch of men could fight him and potentially win, and that was why he hadn't fought so far, but he'd certainly take a few out if needed, and an escaped, angry demon would open a whole sack of problems. Sébastien didn't look happy with the decision. Since he said nothing, he surely saw the logic.

"If you bring trouble upon yourself in the future, you might find yourself under attack right away, and I'm sure enough men could deal with you," continued Corentin. "You were lucky to only be arrested. Take him away. If I ever hear that you're in my borders, I'll send soldiers to kill you."