19. Chapter 19

Chapter nineteen

Tsaria felt like he was burning in the fiery pits of hell. Occasionally, he was thrown into freezing waters just to confuse his body so much that at one point, he begged whoever was pinning him still to let him go because he wanted to die and his own arms thrashing him to death would be as good a method as any other.

He was done. Finally, exhaustion and a weakness so all-encompassing it seemed to steal the very breath from his lungs, took over and he was so beyond any protest his mind could make, never mind his body, that he just accepted his fate. He would die.

He would have liked to tell Kamir his heart. He’d thought to protect himself, he had to be free. Tsaria had been caged his whole life. Poverty, family duty, Ishmael, and then because he hadn’t trusted the one person capable of setting him free, he’d finally been trapped in a cage of his own making. And now the chains were tightening around his very soul.

But at some point he regained his wits to see it wasn’t chains that held him still, but strong arms that smelled so familiar he wept. Had he died? Perhaps the goddess had decided his suffering was enough, and she’d welcomed him into her kingdom.

“No, my heart,” the owner of the strong arms spoke. “You belong to me. The goddess cannot have you until we are both ready to be taken into her loving arms.”

Tsaria didn’t understand, but he didn’t care. He welcomed the fantasy where Kamir whispered how much he was loved. He tried to tell him the same, tell him how sorry he was, that he shouldn’t have doubted him, but had no energy for words.

More time passed. Tsaria had no idea how long until he blinked his eyes open to see a strange room. He noted the fireplace, the fire burning low. The small table was littered with several scrolls, a pot of ink, and two quills. He knew he lay in a bed, and beyond that the cramped room had two chairs by the warm fireplace, and another two tucked under a small table. As he lay there, sounds crept into his mind. Footfalls, the clatter of what he assumed were buckets belonging to the maids that built the fires.

He heard the soft knock and felt the bed shift as whoever sat next to him rose to answer it.

“Thank you,” came a familiar voice, and the door closed. He knew that voice, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to acknowledge it. The smell of dinner rose, and he heard dishes being set on the table, then gentle hands smoothed his hair. “You need to eat, my love. Which means I need to lift you higher.”

Tsaria didn’t protest and eventually, when he was propped up higher on pillows, he couldn’t avoid looking at Kamir any longer so he focused his gaze on his man.

“Are you real?” It was impossible.

Kamir leaned forward and Tsaria felt the brush of gentle lips on his brow. “Very real.”

But that made no sense, because Tsaria had betrayed him. He had trusted a man he hadn’t seen since he was a small boy over one who had shown him nothing but kindness and gentleness. “Why are you here?”

Kamir cupped Tsaria’s face in his hands. “I came because you are here. How could I possibly be anywhere else?”

Why? The little voice that told him that Kamir only needed him to bring forth his dragon still needled him at the back of his mind. “I failed you.”

Kamir shook his head. “You could never fail me.”

“But the dragon.”

“Isn’t your responsibility,” Kamir said firmly.

“And the children?” Tsaria whispered, hating that he had to ask.

“Same,” Kamir said. “Tomorrow is the dark of the moon.”

“But—”

“All you need to worry about right this second is swallowing the broth I’m going to give you.”

Tsaria was bewildered but too weak to do anything except open his mouth when bid and swallow some broth. His eyes widened after the first mouthful because it was tasty when he’d expected bland. “Cookie insisted on following with the guards. She won’t allow anything to pass either of our lips that she hasn’t made herself.”

Which brought tears to his eyes, and Kamir hummed and kissed his cheek. After half the bowl, Tsaria turned his face away, and thankfully Kamir didn’t push. “Tam says small amounts and often.”

“Tam is here?”

“It was he that found you,” Kamir explained. “Helped by a person called Pip and a lady called Moxie, who I can never hope to repay.” Which surprised him, but then maybe nothing Tam did should surprise him. “Why don’t you try to sleep again?”

“I’m sorry,” Tsaria whispered, even as Kamir arranged his bed cushions to let him lie down. He had something to say. He’d wanted nothing more than to tell Kamir his truth, but his eyes were closing of their own volition, no matter how valiantly he fought.

“Incoerasa,” Kamir murmured, which made Tsaria’s breath hitch. Incoerasa in the old tongue meant my heart . “You have done nothing wrong. Now sleep, and when you wake, it will be time to return to Cadmeera and you will be safe.”

It was only as Tsaria was losing the battle to stay awake that he realized that Kamir had said Tsaria would be safe, not that they both would be.

He woke later and couldn’t even summon the embarrassment that it was Kamir who attended to his needs. He swallowed a few mouthfuls of soup and then a strengthening draft that Kamir said was to prepare him for the journey. There was something he was supposed to remember, but none of his thoughts were solid enough to grasp.

“I love you,” Kamir whispered in his ear as his eyes grew heavy so quickly. “You are the best of me, and I want you to be happy, but more than anything, I want you to be free.”

Tsaria hadn’t realized that it was a goodbye until he woke and he was in a carriage.

And instead of Kamir attending him, it was Tam.

Kamir bent and kissed his beloved’s cheek after his eyes had fallen shut and stayed that way. Tam had promised the sleeping draft was mild and if anything, sleep aided the body to heal. Kamir took a moment to gather strength. He’d never had a purpose. Growing up as almost an afterthought, he’d never expected to become the emir, and he had died a little with every female baby born that couldn’t replace him.

Every new queen his father paraded had made him pray she would be the one to give birth to a son. Even knowing that the moment he got a brother, his life would be forfeit so he didn’t inherit. Then the war had come, and his father had been distracted and then killed.

Kamir had become something he never expected nor wanted, and now his final act couldn’t even prevent his uncle from assuming the throne. All he could do was save a hundred young, innocent lives.

He had a choice, as Raz’mar had told him the evening before he left.

“I would never make you return. You are both welcome to live your lives in Cadmeera.”

Kamir had thanked his highness, but then shrugged. “I often wondered what my purpose in life was. I am not fit to command a kingdom, so if I can do nothing other than save a hundred children, then I consider my own life well spent.”

“Brother,” Raz said, which brought tears to Kamir’s eyes. “It is just such a statement that proves you are an emir.”

But Kamir shook his head. “Please, just promise me that Tsaria will be safe, and you will never stop trying to find Jael.”

Raz smiled, but it was melancholy. “You never need to worry on either score.”

Kamir stood and bowed. It wasn’t usual for one ruler to offer another deference to another, but they had both opened their lands and hearts. “I ride in an hour.”

There was nothing more to be said.

“Mansala?” Kamir met Mansala’s gaze. “I wish you would accompany Tsaria and Tam.”

“Except he wouldn’t be your life sentinel if he did that,” Tam said, following Mansala into the room. Kamir caught the hitch in Tam’s breath and watched as Mansala’s eyes darkened briefly in sorrow, but only as he looked at Tam. Kamir’s heart ached for them both. Another love that would never have a future.

Mansala glanced at a sleeping Tsaria, then turned to Kamir. “I took the most important vow of my life when I was but four summers old.”

Kamir didn’t deserve such loyalty, and he pulled the other man into his arms, which he hardly ever did, and they were silent for a moment. Kamir had even asked Tam to drug Mansala to prevent him accompanying him, but Tam had told him he couldn’t do it because he was in love with him. In love with his honor. In love with his big heart. In love with his strength. And he could never be the one to take any of that away.

So, Kamir had given up on trying to prevent Mansala from accompanying him. He wouldn’t give up trying later once they were at the palace. He knew Gabar needed him as a figurehead to assuage the imperial guard and the people while they became used to either his uncle or his cousins taking the crown.

So, he needed to save Tsaria, a hundred children, and then Mansala. And when that was done, he didn’t care what happened. He would give his own life at that point with no regret.

Or maybe one. The silver-gray eyes he saw every time he closed his own.