| Phase 51 � She�s hanging all over him,� Kiree told me disgustedly. � It�s so obvious that he can�t stand it, but he�s too nice to tell her to get out and not come back.� � Who is she, anyway?� � Alycia Rinnen,� Margie said. � She�s the daughter of one of Uncle Edbart�s court and was studying to be a missionary for the �Ethos�. When she heard that Bart had recaptured Aveh, she came to �congratulate� him.� We all snorted and Margie continued. � But she obviously just wants to be Queen.� � I don�t care if she�s Queen.� They looked at me, astonished. � But I won�t let her hold Bart prisoner because of it. She can find another kingdom to annoy.� They nodded their agreement. � Besides, I don�t know what she�s so excited about. Aveh isn�t a kingdom anymore and Bart isn�t King.� Kiree glanced at her watch. � I�m going to go relieve Elly so she can report.� As she left, Margie shook her head. � It�s not really the title. It�s a matter of rank. If she marries Bart, she�ll go up several rungs on the status ladder.� The door opened and we turned, expecting to see Elly. We were surprised by Bart�s blond head. � Hi.� � Manage to sneak away?� Margie questioned. He rolled his eyes (Maison had made he and Sig get rid of their eyepatches once we�d reached Bledavik) and came in. � I�ve been trying all day. If she didn�t catch me, Maison did.� Margie slid off the bed. � I�ll go make sure everything�s all right outside.� He put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her. � Thanks, Margie.� She smiled. � No problem.� He surprised her with a kiss on the cheek and then let her go. Once the door was shut he kicked off his boots, climbed onto the bed with me, and flopped down with a relieved breath. � What a horrible day. Ever since that girl got here I haven�t been able to get anything done. She keeps following me and demanding my attention and I can�t yell at her or Maison�ll get mad.� � Do you think she�s pretty?� � Well of course she�s pretty.� � Prettier than Margie?� He snorted. � Not hardly.� � Prettier than me?� He reached up and stroked my stomach. � Doesn�t even compare to you.� I pet his hair and he began to purr. � I have a treat for you.� � Really?� � Uh huh.� � What is it?� I frowned thoughtfully. � It might be hard to pull off now . . .� � There are secret passages in the castle.� � Oh. Good.� � So?� � Tonight I want you to take a long, hot bath and then go to bed. I�ll give it to you then. But first, you have to show me how to get to your room.� He pointed at the north wall. � In the back corner there knock three times, seven times, then one time. The wall will open up and you can go straight through. I think there�re one or two intersections, but don�t worry about it. Just go straight the whole way and do the same knock on the wall there. That�ll be my room.� � Okay.� We laid there for what must have been four hours, just snuggled together and basking in the warm evening sun. Bart heaved a long sigh. � I need to get back to work.� � Back to keeping that leech away from you,� I corrected bitterly. He cooed and gave me a gentle kiss. � I�ll be all right.� � But you have things to do! She�s being a deadweight!� He softly brushed stray hair behind my ear and cooed again. � I�ll be all right, Kris,� he repeated. He left and Margie and Elly came in. � What did you two do?� � We laid here.� � That�s it?� � Pretty much.� Margie humphed. � You�re both crazy.� � How long were we alone?� � Just over an hour. Why?� I frowned and looked out the window. � It . . . It felt like forever . . .� *>*<* Sigurd watched Bart�s motions keenly. They were slow and deliberate, as if forced. The prince--or rather, ex-prince--was obviously exhausted both mentally and physically. That stupid noble girl had been hanging on his arm and chatting his ear off. It was sickening. And Bart was putting up with all of it out of politeness, though he oh-so-clearly wanted to throw her out a window. �Taught him a little too well, eh, Sigurd?� he asked himself. Oh, if only Kris was here. She would keep Bart from looking so depressed, if nothing else. But Maison had sent her to her room and there she had stayed all day without any type of food or drink because that was part of the punishment. Sigurd knew that Bart�s hour-long disappearance was time spent with Kris. Why else would he have snuck off like that? He looked at the younger man and noticed a slight glint of anticipation in his eyes. For what? Kris must have promised him something or he wouldn�t be like that. . . . Ah. She had finally gotten worn out. Sigurd watched the girl yawn discreetly again. She excused herself and left and as soon as she was gone, Bart flopped into a chair and seemed to melt into the overstuffed piece of furniture. � Thank god . . .� was the mumble. � Get on your nerves?� � I don�t know how much more of that I could�ve taken,� he sighed defeatedly. � I mean, do I really want to know about how pure the �Ethos� is when I�ve already seen with my own eyes that they�re just a branch of Solaris? Not in the least little bit.� A thought suddenly occurred to Sigurd. � Where�s her room?� � Don�t know, don�t care, don�t wanna know. Why?� � I�m just worried about how close her room is to Kris�.� Now Bart was curious. He sat up. � Why?� � I�m afraid one of them will kill the other.� � . . . Why?� � Well, Kris just can�t stand Alycia as it is, which is enough to make me wonder how long she plans to behave. And Alycia . . . I think she saw the relationship between you and Kris and she may try to get rid of the competition.� Bart tensed and Sigurd mentally slapped himself. �Good one, genius. Make him even more upset than he already is.� � Do you really think so?� � It�s what I�m afraid of.� Bart lurched to his feet and bolted up the stairs. *>*<* My door opened suddenly and I looked up to see Bart standing there panting. � Princeling? What�s wrong?� He entered and shut the door behind himself, flopping on his back onto my bed. � Sig was talking about that Alycia girl wanting to get rid of you and . . .� I moved so I was closer to him and ran my hand over his chest. His eyes closed and a sleepy smile began to make its appearance. � I�m right here. I�m just fine, Princeling.� Oddly enough, he hadn�t told me to stop calling him that. I don�t think I could have anyway; it�s just a harmless pet name. His eyes opened suddenly and he grabbed my hand. � I almost forgot! Come on, Kris!� I got up and followed him through the castle to the library. Maison was there and though he didn�t look pleased to see me out of my room, he also noticed that Bart had a death-grip on my hand and wasn�t about to let go anytime soon. � Oh, Young Master! You still haven�t rested yet?� � Old Maison, there�s one thing I want to ask you.� � What is it?� � Where was Sigurd born?� Maison shook his head a little. � Young Master, that---� � He has blue eyes,� Bart interrupted in an almost accusatory manner. � It�s the Fatima Jasper.� Maison sighed, as if he�d known this would pop up someday. � . . . Well . . . It was long, long ago. When His Majesty and I were still young . . . Long before His Majesty knew my young master�s mother. His Majesty was very much in love with a certain girl from a small religious sect east of Aveh. This sect was quite different from Nisan and the �Ethos�, but she was very beautiful. Then . . . she just disappeared. Later there were rumors of her having a child.� � She disappeared? Did Father abandon her?� � As far as I know, it was the opposite. His Majesty was abandoned.� Bart turned it all over in his head. � Sig is from Aveh�s eastern desert . . .� � Indeed. When he was ten, he was assigned to His Majesty King Edbart as a squire.� Bart paused again, then nodded. � Thanks, Maison.� He turned and led me back outside to the balcony looking over the castle bailey. Sig heard us coming and turned. � Young Master . . .?� � Yeah,� Bart said with a shrug. � Can�t sleep.� � Yes, so much has happened at once.� Bart didn�t waste time. � Hey Sig . . . what was your mother like?� Sig balked momentarily at the question. � She died when I was but a child. Why?� � Do you have any memories of her? What kind of person she was?� I could see Sig was getting wary. Bart was rarely so intensely focused on a subject and it was making him nervous. � Hm, well . . . She was very kind . . . but when I was born it seems the doctor told her she did not have long to live. She lived in constant fear of that. As a result, even if she met someone she liked, her fear of death was her drawback. She worried that she could not be with me to the very end . . .� I heard a slight bitterness in his words. Bart let that sink in, then said, � What about your father?� � He isn�t supposed to know that I was born. However, even for not knowing he still treated me like a son.� I caught the use of �isn�t� instead of �wasn�t� that would hopefully deter Bart. But Bart noticed too and just skimmed over it. � Why didn�t you tell him you were his son?� Sig shrugged. � If my mother hid that fact, there had to be a reason.� Bart nodded. � There is more to my father�s will than what I declared today. I must share my inheritance with my brother. He also said . . . �You must split your and your brother�s share with the people�.� Sig started and turned to Bart, shocked. � W . . . What?!� Bart shrugged this time. � That had always bugged me up until now. I didn�t know what he meant. That�s all I wanted to say.� Without waiting for Sig to say or ask anything, he headed off jauntily, presumably to his room. � Good night!� I remained behind and looked up at Sig, who was staring after Bart in open-mouthed surprise. I reached up and touched his face, making him jump. � Kris! Your hand is freezing!� I blushed slightly. � Sorry.� He put my hands together and held them between his own, rubbing them gently and working circulation back into them. � Do you want something?� � I just want to tell you that it�s all right. It�s not your fault she�s gone.� I withdrew my hands from his to hug him. � You�ve done nothing wrong.� His arms closed around me hesitantly. � I know, but . . . sometimes I can�t help but feel . . .� � Did she ever tell you it was your fault?� � Huh?� � Did she ever sit down and tell you honestly that it was your fault?� � No!� � Then it wasn�t your fault,� I concluded. He opened his mouth to object, then sighed. � Kris, that doesn�t prove a single thing.� Damn. I was hoping he�d just accept it. � Look. If she really considered it as your fault, she would have been mean and cruel to you. Was she like that?� � No.� � Then it wasn�t your fault,� I repeated. He smiled and shook his head. � You are something else, Kris.� He kissed my forehead. � Now get to bed before Maison gets angry.� I gave him another hug and kissed his cheek, then returned to my room and laid on the bed, thinking about everything I�d just heard. So Bart and Sig were half-brothers. That�s why they sounded so much alike and got into fist fights and had such similar mental signatures. Then . . . I had been right when we were in the mausoleum. <--Phase 50 Phase 52--> |