Chapter Seventy

*I can feel your confusion. What we want to focus on right now is what is right and what made us come here in the first place. Let’s find Gareth’s pregnant wife. How they’re treating her will tell us more than Claven will ever share. Remember how they were treating Volencia when you first came upon them. No one deserves that, Damion.* Nodding, Damion had to admit, Gregron had a point. They needed to know more. The rest of the meeting would answer the questions of what they should be doing from here.

“Your palace seems to go on forever.” Damion waved down the hall, eliciting a chuckle from his companion.

“It’s practically a city, to be honest. So little grows here in the desert, that we’ve been working on making apartments for the folk that live here. That’s why we haven’t waisted resources on temporary structures around us. This year alone, we’ll be creating four new barrack-towers where the soldiers will be able to stay. There will be communal baths in each. Since we don’t believe in marriage, the females will have their own quarters at the top of the towers and the men will be able to go up to chose who shall warm their beds for the night. The Captains of the platoons will choose who gets first dibs, because they’ll be keeping track of how well the soldiers are doing. I want to get to the point where none of what you saw on your travels into Belodia are there. Everyone deserves to live here, in the palace with their Prince.”

“And what of your father? The King? Is this his vision? Will I be able to meet him as well?” Damion let his eyes glaze over Claven, who again looked away sadly.

“My father has been sick for a long time, unfortunately. These are my plans alone. No one really knows how bad it is, but his body has been failing for years. I dread the day he passes away. I’m not really interest in taking over the kingdom. I was hoping my brother would be willing to take over for me instead. But, that’s not something that will come to pass now. Though I understand the duress you were under that day. I realize we were wrong to do what we were doing then, but Thambair has been impossible to bring under control for so long. I don’t hold your decisions that day against you, but there are others that do.”

“Hopefully you are willing to point them out during our introductions so that I can try to make amends. Honestly, stepping into that with no prior information did leave me feeling like you were in the wrong. No one deserves to be treated like that. Well… not without consent, anyway.” Damion forced a laugh, hoping it was believable. Claven took Damion’s empty glass, and his own, setting them on a side table.

When he came back, he wrapped his arm around Damion’s again, but his free hand caressed Damion’s arm and hand. “Consent, huh? You don’t by chance enjoy rough play, do you?”

Damion let the one side of his smile widen enough for his dimple to come through, “Well, something like that. I find, the things that I’ve liked most, are not well looked upon. Though, Volencia hasn’t minded accommodating me with my… preferences.”

“The little virgin is no longer a virgin, huh? That shouldn’t surprise me. I would have given you my virginity in a minute had you asked for it. You just happen to be half a lifetime too late for that.” Claven chuckled. “Just another right here and beyond that door, and we’ll be with the others.”

As they turned the corner, Damion saw the large glass doors flanked by jade wall carvings. “Those are gorgeous.” Damion veered to the side, looking at the friezes on the side of the door. His hand gliding over the contours as he explored the craftmanship of the designs. They were all floral in design, fruit trees and berry bushes, flowers, and other varieties of plants. To add to the atmosphere, the stone columns on the side of the friezes were covered in moss.

“You enjoy art, huh?”

“I enjoy all different types of beauty. You should see me get lost in a library.” Damion said honestly, crossing to the other side of the door where a different design awaited them.

“Then you would enjoy ours, I’m sure. It’s not as big as the one in Thambair, but it’s cozier, if you were to ask me.” Claven pulled at the arms of his robes and messed with his hair, pulling it into a ponytail with a small leather strap. Fixing his robes, he covered more of his chest, forcing himself to look more presentable.

“Should I button my—” Damion asked, after realizing that Claven was correcting his image before going in.

“Probably.” Claven said, even as he put a hand on Damion’s to still him. “But, please, don’t. You are beyond beautiful just the way you are.” Damion felt the blush on his cheeks rising and turned away. “I would prefer you just be comfortable. Even if one day you wish to ascend the Thambairian throne, let them meet who you are as an equal.” Damion noticed the way Claven’s eyes lingered at his mouth, taking a step forward.

“Then why, prey tell, are you fixing yourself up to go in? Why not stay comfortable as you were?” Damion took another step, and Claven retreated with wide, excited eyes.

“I have an image to uphold. It’s different when they look at you as their leader.” Claven hit the wall where the frieze was. Damion’s hand shot up to keep the other’s head from hitting the detailed wall. “Oh.”

“I’m going to kiss you.” He said, waiting for any show of consternation, but when Claven’s hands met his chest and slowly worked their way up to the back of his neck, Damion took the opportunity to lean in.

“I hate to be the one to break this up, but haven’t they been waiting for your return? You are in the middle of hosting a party, are you not?” Gregron’s words forced Damion to stop, just far enough away from Claven that he could smell the wine on his breath, which was coming fast and heavy. Damion swore under his breath, backing away. Though it was a planned move, Damion’s reaction was true. There was an intense sense of deja vous nagging in his mind.

“No, you’re right, Gregron.” Damion stepped back, running his hand through his hair, but remembering too late he had it tied up. His hand fell to his side as he looked away from them both. “I’m sorry to keep you from your other company.”

Fixing his robes again, Claven seemed to agree that he’d been gone too long. “Though I agree with Gregron for the moment, I’m more than happy to dispel the meeting early and show you around the palace more. A personal tour may be fun for both of us?”

Damion gave Claven a sideways glance. If this kept up, he was going to forget why he came here in the first place. He was grateful he could control what Volencia could see and feel, because this would have had her panicking. “Shall we then?” Damion gave an unexcited bow, backing away more. By the look Claven offered, they would both rather be anywhere else.

“I suppose.” Claven said, taking the lead. He opened the door, striding in. The whole room was a massive green house. Like an oasis of life in the middle of a dry and deserted desert. The room was made of green marble and large pains of glass surrounded them, even creating a large ceiling. Trees with fruits, flowers as big as Damion’s head, it was beautiful. “It’s one of my favorite places in the world.” Damion pulled at his shirt. It was really hot in here.

“I can see why. There’s a sense of serenity here. Kind of caries the feel of my home and the tree beside it.” Damion said, walking in. His hand touched a large hibiscus flower, letting his fingers graze over it lazily. Claven and Gregron had both stopped to watch him. There was no denying the worry etched over Gregron’s face though.

“One day, I would love to see your home.” Claven mused.

Damion’s head whipped around, “That… may not be a great idea. You support Lock, and he’s the one who tore down their city and slaughtered thousands, if not more, of my folk.”

“But, as you said earlier, I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t at least hear both sides of the story.” There was no disguising the way Claven reached for him. Though he thought better of the motion and his arms dropped to his side.

“If you ever truly want to know another side of the story, let me know. I shall not deny you that. Just as you have not denied me. Though, I need to figure out why they are lying about the creation. For that I have no answer.” Damion plucked a large fruit from the bows of a tree and sniffed at it.

“That’s a dragon fruit. You need a knife to get through the thick skin, but once you do, it is delicious. Bring it with you. One of the members of the Empire will have a small knife to get into it, or I’ll send it down to the kitchen if need be.” The outside of the fruit, though colorful, mostly red with small amounts of blue on the tips. The skin of the fruit felt like bark on the outside of it. The smell was not unlike that of a forest after the rain. Claven continued into the greenhouse room, waiving them along.