13 Chapter (1)

Jamil looked at the Captain of the Royal Guard seated across his desk and said, “I wish to know details of my husband’s death.”

Although Captain Zetht’s expression didn’t change, Jamil could still feel his faint surprise. He tightened his mental shields, his mind still involuntarily shying away from any telepathic contact after yesterday’s confrontation with Rohan. Not that the rebel had truly touched his mind—not deep enough at least—but it still felt odd to feel another person’s mental presence. Jarring.

Jamil suppressed a scowl, annoyed by his thoughts. It felt like he had been incapable of thinking of anything else for the past few days but him. It was… disconcerting. No matter what Rohan had claimed, Jamil wasn’t convinced he wasn’t influencing him in some way—because such behavior wasn’t normal, not for him. Seyn was the one who tended to obsess and fixate; Jamil was the rational one. Supposed to be.

“What do you wish to know, Your Highness?”

Jamil looked back at Captain Zetht, choosing his words carefully. He wanted an unbiased opinion. “What made you think the rebels were at fault?”

“Have you read my report, Your Highness?”

Jamil nodded. After his confrontation with Rohan, it was the first thing he’d done, but the report hadn’t answered his questions.

“I have, but it is not clear how you came to such conclusions. All the report says is that Mehmer’s aircraft was disintegrated near the Northern Kavalchi Mountains.” He was a little surprised by how steady his voice sounded. He would like to think that he was finally moving on, letting go of his grief, but Jamil had a feeling it wasn’t as simple as that. This… fixation on him just seemed to eclipse everything else, drowning out even his grief, however temporarily.

Captain Zetht frowned. “The rebels’ base is suspected to be somewhere in that region, Your Highness. That part of the Great Mountains is inessible for teleporters and most aircrafts because of the maic disturbance caused by the small korviu deposits under the mountains. Satellites can’t get good scans of the region either because of the interference. It’s the only part of Calluvia that can’t be scanned, so we’re almost certain the rebels’ settlement must be there—there’s nowhere else for it to be.”

Not on this pl, Jamil thought.

“So basically, it’s all conjecture,” he said, his mind racing. “You don’t have proof that it was the rebels.”

Captain Zetht looked mulish. “Your Highness, it’s almost certain. There was a rebel leaflet found nearby. Besides, no intergalactic terrorist groups came forward to claim responsibility for killing the prince-consort. It must be the rebels. They never claim their deeds.”

Maybe because they never actually kill anyone.

The thought felt like a betrayal after months of hating those people for Mehmer’s death. Jamil wasn’t sure how to feel now, what to think. Besides, it was a strange coincidence that Mehmer had been killed in the region inessible for teleporters—just like Tai’Lehr. Was there a connection?

Jamil frowned. “I don’t understand why that region of the Kavalchi Mountains hasn’t been searched on foot to find out once and for all if the rebels are there or not.”

Captain Zetht shook his head. “It’s a near impossible task, Your Highness. The Kavalchi Mountains are at their highest in that region—almost thirty tarsecs high—and they’re impassable after the first few tarsecs.” He looked ufortable. “There have been numerous expeditions to that region over the centuries, but they all returned empty-handed. They say…”

Jamil raised his eyebrows when Zetht trailed off. “Captain?”

“People who returned claimed that the region was haunted,” Captain Zetht said, flushing. “I know it sounds like nonsense, but it is rather strange that all expeditions weren’t able to go far, isn’t it?”

Jamil had to concede it was rather strange.

Captain Zetht sighed. “Even the huge search partiesanized after the disappearance of the Fifth Grand Clan’s heir weren’t able to go deep into the region—”

“Wait, what?” Jamil said, sitting straighter.

Captain Zetht seemed confused by his surprise. “Don’t you remember that the two princes of the Fifth Grand Clan were allegedly kidnapped by the rebels close to that area? I know it’s been almost two decades, Your Highness—you were just a boy—but surely you remember the uproar it caused?”

“I recall it now,” Jamil said thoughtfully. There was a niggling at the back of his mind. He was missing something; he could feel it, the truth just barely out of reach. “But refresh my memory please.”

“Crown Prince Warrehn and his brother Prince Eruadarhd were traveling through the Revialli Forest, but their entourage returned without the princes, saying that the princes were kidnapped by the rebels. It was a huge blow to the Fifth Grand Clan, considering that the princes’ parents had died just a few months prior. It’s a good thing the clan had such a capable regent or it would have been torn apart in a civil war. Of course, it’s a pity that the direct line is extinguished, but Lady Dalatteya’s son is ascending to the throne next year. The Fifth Grand Clan will finally have a king.”

Jamil stared at him.

“Thank you, Captain. You may go.”

As the door slid shut after the captain, Jamil sagged back in his seat, his mind reeling.

* * *

Jamil had tried to convince himself to stay out of it. He told himself it wasn’t his business. He should stay out of the rebels’ affairs—stay away from Rohan di’Lehr. But his willpower lasted just five days.

On the sixth day, he made a call on the regent of the Fifth Grand Clan, Dalatteya’il’zaver.

“Your Highness,” Dalatteya said, standing up to bow to him slightly. He might outrank her, but she was one of those women thatmanded the room even when she was bowing. Most royals wished they had half of her regal bearing.

She smiled. “What a pleasant surprise, Prince Jamil.”

Jamil frowned on the inside at the use of his shorter name. It was generally considered in poor form to use a royal’s short name unless specifically invited to. But he decided to ignore the slight, for the time being.

“I won’t take much of your time. I’m sure you’re busy preparing to hand over the reins of the clan to Prince Samir.” His use of her son’s short name wasn’t careless: Prince Samir had invited him to use his short name.

Dalatteya smiled wider, pride flashing across her beautiful face. She might be pushing sixty, middle-aged by Calluvian standards, but she was still very beautiful, her violet hair and dark-blue eyes contrasting nicely with her pale skin. “Indeed I am—there is an inordinate amount of paperwork—but thankfully, my son’s coronation is still more than a year away and I have time to get our grand clan’s affairs in order.”

Jamil nodded, knowing it was a rather unique situation. Since the direct line of the Fifth Grand Clan had been extinguished years ago, Dalatteya’s son was due to ascend to the throne on his twenty-fifth birthday. The situation was even moreplicated by the fact that there was some uncertainty that the former heir to the throne was dead.

“I imagine it must be a legal nightmare, since Crown Prince Warrehn’s death is still unconfirmed,” Jamil murmured sympathetically, watching carefully for her reaction.

Dalatteya sighed, her face bing somber. “I’m afraid there is no question about my nephew’s death. It’s all just formality at this point.”

“I thought Prince Warrehn’s bondmate claimed that his bond was still intact? Doesn’t that indicate that the prince must be alive?”

Dalatteya frowned slightly and shook her head. “I consulted with the High Adept of the High Hronthar. He said that sometimes childhood bonds are faulty and a person might not feel the death of their bondmate. It is rare, but it happens. Besides, if Warrehn were alive, he would havee home years ago. It’s been eighteen years.” She sighed. “Now, I’m sure you are here for a reason. I’m aware that you rarely socialize after…” Her expression was kind andpassionate. “I can’t stress enough how sorry I am for your loss.”

Her tone sounded absolutely sincere, but something about her emotions made Jamil eye her curiously. Ever since his bondmate’s death, his telepathic abilities were a little stronger. He had been told that it was normal, but it still slightly disconcerted him. He could sense another person’s surface emotions better, and right now Dalatteya didn’t feel sad at all, despite herpassionate expression.

It made Jamil a little wary. He’d never thought Dalatteya was anything more than she presented to the world—a charming, kind, very capable woman—so this was something of a surprise.

“Thank you,” Jamil said. “I actually came here because I would appreciate it if you share with me all information you have on the rebels. I’ve heard your clan conducted massive search operations when your nephews were kidnapped.”

Dalatteya stared at him for a moment before nodding slowly. “I’ll have to ask my assistant to find the old reports, but truth be told, I don’t think they will be very useful for you. We were unable to locate the rebels’ base and we stopped searching years ago. I lost all hope I’m afraid.”

Again, there was that faint feeling of falsehood that contradicted her sincere expression.

Jamil kept his face carefully neutral. “I still would like to take a look at the reports, if you don’t mind.”

Dalatteya gave him a look that could only be described as pitying. “ive my forwardness, Your Highness, but you should let go. Holding onto your grief will not change anything. I understand that you want to get revenge against those despicable people, but it wouldn’t bring your bondmate back. No one knows where those wretched creatures are hiding. You won’t find them by reading old reports.”

There. He was sure he detected a hint of worry.

For the first time, Jamil allowed himself to seriously entertain the idea that Rohan had told him the truth—entertain it rationally rather than just trust his instincts. It all fit with what Rohan had told him: C