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“Alric, you have to try and slow down, you’re moving too fast, I can’t get-I can’t grab you. Alric, you’re speeding up! Alric, reach out to me! Alric! Alric!”
Arista dove forward but her hand only touched the air, as his brother eluded her again. He was too far now, towards the light, and not matter how much she stretched her arm, she had no way-
“Alric! Come back to me.”
A hand gripped her shoulder, and Arista turned to see Mauvin just next to him. Her gaze followed his arm as he moved forward and his hand as he reached for Alric’s wrist. As soon as Mauvin’s finger closed around it, Arista pulled back.
The action required much strength to her: she closed her eyes and she gritted her teeth. With one last yank, she felt the opposite pressure snapping. She finally let it go.
“You did it.”
Hadrian’s incredulous and relieved voice welcomed her as she opened back her eyes.
“That was incredible,” Mauvin added, at her side.
In front of her, his brother sat down, eyes widened open, and he was blinking as he didn’t understand what had happened or where he stood. He didn’t say anything. But he was alive, he was breathing, and the wound was healed.
The force of the spell was asking her a toll, and Arista leaned on Hadrian, feeling her body heavy. The adrenaline drained the last of her energy. She turned to Mauvin, who was hurt too, but she had no voice to lure his attention, no opportunity to heal him too.
Before falling asleep, she barely registered the strange, round tattoo on his brother’s bare chest.
“I’ll do it.”
Every head turned to look at Alric, who stood a little on the corner of the room, isolated from the rest of the group. Since he woke up, Mauvin hadn’t managed to speak with him,
“You can’t,” Arista said. “Weren’t you listening? This is about Gaunt being the Heir.”
“Well, he isn’t going to do it.” Alric stepped forward and pointed at Gaunt, who pressed his lips together and moved his eyes around. “He just said so. Someone had to do it or we all die here.”
“It doesn’t mean it has to be you.”
“Arista’s right,” Hadrian intervened. “She just heal you from a mortal wound. Take it easy.”
“I’m fine!” Alric replied and gave Mauvin the impression he wasn’t fine at all.
The idea of being the one almost dying out of the entire group probably made Alric eager to prove himself. Looking at his bandaged arm, which Mauvin had difficulty moving, he felt he understood his best friend’s feelings. There was a sort of anger boiling inside himself.
“See, Gaunt?” he said then. “That’s the meaning of being king. You may speak as you want about merit and honor and shit, but when the moment comes, where is your merit? Where is your honor? You have any. Unlike my king.”
Gaunt frown increased, and he swallowed. He looked around, but none of the others had anything to add. On the other hand, Mauvin wasn’t finished.
“So, what are you going to do, oh mighty Heir of Novron? If blood doesn’t matter, then you’re a coward by yourself. The only positive thing out of our doom is that we aren’t going to have him as Emperor.”
“Fine!” Gaunt spat. “I’ll do it.” He slumped on the ground, as his legs failed to sustain him. “Can I least have a last meal?”
Arista nodded and looked at Hadrian, who shrugged. They got what they needed, and a couple of minutes more wouldn’t change it. They were all tired and miserable.
With a slight smile, Mauvin reserved his attention to Alric. Their eyes met for a second, before Alric lowered his gaze, turned his back, and walked away.
At the sound of steps, Alric lifted his gaze to see Arista coming near. She looked tired: her face was pale, her eyes bloodied, with dark circles around it, and her shoulders slopped down as she was forcing herself to be upstand.
Alric knew he should thank her for saving him, yet his voice didn’t come out. There was something wrong with him, even if he couldn’t grasp exactly what the problem was, and that something put him on edge. It wasn’t the anger and disappointment of being hurt, or the sadness of being useless. It was deeper… the feeling he didn’t belong in his body anymore.
“Are you okay?” Arista asked.
He nodded, even if it was a lie.
“Oh, stop sulking,” she said, and her tone was tinkling, happy, a clear pretense. “I’m not going to rub on you what you said to me.”
“What?” Alric blinked.
“You don’t remember? When I was healing you… You told me,” and she counted everything on her finger, “that you were a bad king, that I would have been a better queen and also that you were jealous of me. Ah, and that you’re sorry about it.”
A fond smile was on her face, but Alric frowned. He narrowed his eyes in concentration, and a feeling returned to him: a light, someone calling him, Arista’s voice in the dark… and then a pull on his chest broke his concentration
“I don’t remember,” he said then, shaking his head. “But it is something I could have said. Something I should have said before.”
With a sigh, Arista came near and sat down next to him. “You’re not a bad king, Alric.” She placed a hand on her shoulder. “You tried your best, and you made mistakes, like everyone else. I did mistakes too.”
“Oh, really?” Reluctantly, Alric smirked. “I’ll hold you on this.”
Arista shook her head, a smile on his face. “Don’t make me regret saving you,” she joked, but his face became darker.
“You really did, sister?” he asked. “Because I don’t feel like... I’m alive.”
“What are you talking about? Of course you’re alive.” She placed her hand on his face, then slid down on his chest. “Here. You felt it, don’t you? Your heart is beating.”
Alric felt warm in the spot Arista was touching, and the vibration of the heartbeats resounded more against her palm. He knew she was right, but she was also wrong. He couldn’t explain it to her, though, when he had problems understating it himself.
“You’re right. I’m probably still frightened about what happened.” He took her hand and kept a little in his own. “Better go to see if Gaunt is ready. If he failed, you would have wasted your time saving me.”
The tension kept her body still, as Arista followed Gaunt’s movements inside the Vault. It was hard, when all they had were Royce’s description since the room was too dark for her eyes. The Art was running freely inside her, ready to intervene.
Then everything precipitated. The beast moved and she understood she was about to kill Gaunt. Royce precipitated inside the room, immediately followed by Alric, with Mauvin that yelled behind her at him to stop, and Hadrian that prevented Mauvin to follow too. Arista launched her Art towards the beast, only to understand she had no chance to stop something created like that.
In the light of her vest, and her attempts of reaching for someone, something, in order to gain time for Royce, Gaunt, and Alric to come back safe, made everything frantic. Despite being still tired of the overuse of her Art, she kept her concentration, even if she heard Mauvin’s pained scream behind her. She snapped out of it only when Hadrian shut back the door, shielding them again from the Gwalabryn’s wrath.
“You idiot!” Royce’s voice lured his attention. “Why did you follow me?”
She turned. Gaunt was painting hard, crumbled on the floor, his eyes wide opened and still on the door. His hand touched himself, as to realize he was still in one piece. Royce was standing, hands bloodied, and she glared down at Alric’s laying figure. A pool of blood was spreading below him.
“Alric!” Immediately, she rushed at him, forcing herself to evocate her Art again.
“It’s too late, he’s dead,” Royce stated. “It got him right in the heart while he was trying to save Gaunt.”
“I’m… not…” Alric exhaled, and he was right. His eyes were opened and vigil, and there was still breath on his lips.
At the sound of his voice, Royce blinked, shocked. “You really shouldn’t.”
“Do you want me dead so badly?” Alric released a small chuckle which turned into a bloody cough.
“I just want mortal wounds to be mortal for real.”
Arista ignored their conversation, focused on healing Alric’s slashes. It was easier than before, despite, she had to admit, the situation being even worse. Alric’s chest was almost torn apart from the Gwlarabrin’s attack, and she understood why Royce was so surprised. Yet the edge of the cut closed with easiness under her spell and for all the process Alric didn’t slip from her grip.
Blood covered Alric’s now healed chest, but she frowned again at the tattoo which was in his chest. She had forgotten about it, because she had been too tired before, but now she frowned at it and at the subtle lightly string she could see if she focused on it.
Arista touched them with the point of her fingers, gaining the attention of everyone. She guessed it was strange, because they couldn’t see the strings as she did. She followed the direction they moved and discovered they connected Alric and Mauvin.
He sat down, painting hard, sweat made his pale face shimmering in the dim light of their lantern. Magnus was next to him, a hand on his shoulder, checking his condition.
“What happened to him?” Arista asked. At her side, Alric’s eyes widened in concern.
“No idea,” Magnus answered, his eyes still on Mauvin. “Without any reason he started screaming as a slaughtered pig.”
“I…” Mauvin swallowed to regain back his voice. “It felt like someone stabbed me, but…” He patted his chest and gripped his shirt, as he didn’t believe he was fine.
Arista’s eyes moved again on the golden strings that connected him and Alric. A sudden suspect came into her mind. “Mauvin. Took off your shirt.”
He looked at her perplexed. “Here? In front of everyone?” He smirked. “Kinky.”
“That’s really not the moment for jokes.” She rolled his eyes.
“I was just trying to raise the mood.”
With Magnus’ help, he stood up and opened his shirt. And here it stood, the same tattoo Alric had, and the string entered inside it. It was composed of five dark concentric circles, but other lines connected each circle and formed the stylized symbol of a crowned falcon.
Mauvin noticed the stare on it and lowered his gaze. “What is this?” he asked, to no one, as he brushed with prudence the lines of the tattoo with the tip of his fingers.
“It’s the same Alric has,” Royce commented.
“I… I think it was me,” Arista said. “Before, when I was healing Alric… He was slipping away, but then I heard Mauvin’s voice and maybe…”
“You don’t know for sure?” Hadrian asked.
Arista shook her head. “I’m kind of a self-taught when it comes to the Art. It has to be me, but what it means… I can’t say.”
Alric released a yelp of pain and, at the same time, Mauvin flinched. Royce had just cut a little Alric’s right forearm with his dagger.
“Why?” Alric complained.
“Just testing a theory,” Royce replied, unbothered. “If you’re hurt, Mauvin feels pain too. But only pain.”
“Oh.” Magnus pinched Mauvin’s thigh and both boys winced at the sting.
“Stop it!” Mauvin ordered.
Magnus shrugged. “I wanted to see if works both ways.”
“You should have asked,” Alric stated. He was massaging his left arm. “It hurts since I woke up. I thought it was the result of Arista’s healing, but…” The look of everyone fell on Mauvin’s bandaged wound on his left arm.
“It doesn’t make sense.” Royce frowned. “You should have been dead. Has this tattoo something to do with the fact you somehow survived?” Apparently, Alric’s mysterious survival really bothered him.
“Maybe it was because of Mauvin?” Arista’s eyes were still on the strings. “He shielded Alric somehow?”
“No,” Mauvin said, at Royce and Magnus. “You’re not going to kill me to test your theory.”
“And I died two times already today. I’m done,” Alric added.
Hadrian’s attention moved to Myron. “Do you have any explanation from one of your books?”
“Oh, I, I haven’t checked,” Myron appeared embarrassed. “I was looking more at the history of the Empire. But I can look, if you’d like.”
“I found something,” Myron announced.
Mauvin had almost forgotten about it. After they’d managed somehow to reach Novron’s tomb, things had become frantic and they focused more on their current situation, the horn, and the necessity to return as soon as possible.
And Alric hadn’t risked his life again and the apparently bond between the two of them felt something distant. The tattoo was still there, but overall it didn’t hurt.
Now the party was resting in the big cave after the underground ocean as they retraced their step towards the surface, and Myron reached for them. He and Alric sat next to each other, again comfortable in each other’s presence, and Arista joined them.
“So?” she asked, impatient.
Myron nodded and began his explanation.
“In one of the diaries I found, there was this story about a father that performed a spell on his daughter to save her life. Apparently, he lost all his family from an illness, and the daughter was the only one who remained so, being immune to said illness, he tied his life to hers.”
“That sounds very similar to what Arista did,” Mauvin stated, bus she seemed unconvinced.
“When you said he tied his life…”
“It is very literal.” Myron turned a little the pages of his book. “When the father dies, the daughter does too, because she hasn’t any more ties in the world.” His face saddened a little. “The author of this book actually used this story as an example. You can’t cheat death. And apparently, this necromancer spell was banned by the third Emperor.”
Alric blinked. “When you said necromancer…”
“Ah, yes. The author was convinced the daughter died. The father had no way to cure her, so he waited for her death and then pulled back her soul and sealed it.”
“That is exactly what I did,” Arista stated, and paled. “The only difference is that I tied up Mauvin’s life instead of mine.”
“I died?” Alric looked at both Mauvin and Arista for confirmation.
“It must be confusing for you…” Myron began.
“No.” Alric shook his head. “No, it isn’t. Everything made sense now. That’s why I felt… I don’t belong here anymore. I shouldn’t be here.”
“How is it possible?” Mauvin felt he couldn’t accept the idea of his best friend being dead. Especially when said best friend was breathing in front of him. “He’s here. He felt pain. He even felt my pain.”
“Oh, yes.” Myron went through the book again. “This is actually very interesting. Since the two souls are connected, the dead one used the living one to keep feeling like a human being. The result is that their feelings are connected to each other. Or something like that.”
“Can it be undone? This spell?” Alric asked.
“I… guess so. But then, you’ll die.”
Alric turned to his sister. “But you can try?”
She blinked. “Why… why should I…?”
“I’m not alive, Arista. I’m stealing Mauvin’s life. We need to do something…”
“You’re not stealing anything,” Mauvin stated.
“Haven’t you heard-”
“I heard perfectly.” Mauvin stared straight at Alric’s face. “And, for Maribor’s sake, if all it takes for you to survive is for me to have a tattoo on my chest and feel a little pain if you sprinkle your ankle, I consider it an honest payment.”
“But…” Alric started, his eyes wide and watery.
“By Mar, Alric. I don’t want you to die, is it that hard to understand?” Mauvin turned to Arista. “I forbid you to try anything. If you do, I’ll never forgive you.” He stood up. “Yes, I don’t care if you are the king and the princess. This is my life and it’s for me to decide.”
The outburst had lured the attention of everyone else, that were now looking at them with curious and unconvinced looks. Mauvin shook his head and walked away to avoid any unwanted questions. Alric ran after him soon after.
Without saying anything, he hugged Mauvin tight, his hands clasping the back of his shirt and the head pressing against Mauvin’s chest.
Mauvin didn’t care if they were cheating death. All that mattered was Alric’s breath against his skin, the warmth of his body pressed against his own, and the beating of his heart.
The mood of the party was grim after the entire ordeal with the horn and manduwley. It wasn’t only the fact that Arista’s plan hadn’t work out because of Magnus’ unwilling spell, but the impending sense of doom at being surrounded by the elven army that would kill them all the moment Gaunt lost the battle.
Alric could eve admit the man had grown a little on him, or at least he seemed less insufferable now, yet he was difficult to accept the idea the destiny of the world depended on him beating a three hundred years old elf magician.
“Maybe I should fight instead of Gaunt,” he said, addressing no one in particular. “After all, I can’t die anymore, can I?”
Arista shook her head. “I think it’s something only Gaunt can do. Besides, we don’t know exactly how this soul bond between you and Mauvin works. Maybe there is a limit to the pain Mauvin can take.”
Alric looked at Mauvin, then nodded. “Then, can you put the same spell on Gaunt to shield him during the fight?”
“Gaunt should die before the princess can operate,” Myron remembered him.
“And also, who would like to be Gaunt’s anchor for the rest of his or her life?” Mauvin snickered.
“I guess it should be me, but…” Hadrian didn’t look inclined to accept the situation.
At that point, Alric didn’t add anything. Nor his life nor his death seemed to have any meaning in the world. He realized he didn’t really want to: sure, finding Percepliquis might have been one of his dream, but all his life was supposed to be about was living a quiet, comfortable life.
Later on, after the poor dinner and after Manduwley had taunted them about their future, Alric found himself alone, walking in the creaking snow around the camp, unable to stay still.
A blanket was placed around his shoulder, and Mauvin appeared at his side, with a soft smile on his face.
“I felt you were cold.”
Alric placed the blanket better around his body. “How do you know it was my feeling?”
“It’s different, somehow.” Mauvin shrugged. “Like it is inside me, but not mine. It’s difficult to explain.”
Soul bond, Arista had called it, and it really looked like it. Mauvin didn’t seem bothered by it, but the way he could now feel everything made Alric feel naked in front of him. They’re best friends, so there was little they hid from one another, still…
“You’re not upset about what Manduley said, right?” Mauvin asked. “It’s a jerk.”
“I’m really not.”
The idea of being tortured to death again and again just because he couldn’t die for the elves’ entertainment didn’t scare Alric as he should. He was sure they wouldn’t end up as captives if Gaunt lost. Alric couldn’t see Royce nor Hadrian, and not even Arista, stood up for it. Screw the entire rules about the horn.
“We will fight, right?” At Mauvin’s nod, he added, “I should really have trained more with the sword.”
“You were good, back against the Ghazel. I didn’t know you could fight so well.” Mauvin was so sincere telling that, there was true happiness in the way his eyes shone and his lips bent to a smile. “It was like… fighting with Fanen again…”
But despite his compliments, the reality was that Alric had died. Just like Fanen. Now Alric could understand a little better Mauvin’s eagerness of being his anchor in his life, because, if Alric died too, it would mean Mauvin failed two times. In this way, at least, he could say he’d saved one of them.
“Sorry,” Alric offered.
Mauvin tilted his head a little, looking curiously at Alric. Then, he looked around, to verify no one was near enough to see them. In an instant, he grabbed Alric’s face and kissed him on the lips. Now that they were connected, the feeling was a little bit more overwhelming than Alric expected.
“I’m starting to love the beard,” Mauvin said, brushing a finger through it.
“Maybe you should start growing one too, dear count,” Alric retorted, making Mauvin laugh and kiss him again.
Then, they stopped, Mauvin’s hand still on Alric’s cheek, the forehead touching.
“I love you,” Mauvin whispered, when their head and mouth were still too close.
“What… why are you…”
“Funny, I swore I would never tell you this.” Mauvin chuckles softly. “But you already died on me once and, well, tomorrow didn’t look optimistic so…” he shrugged and stepped back. “You can forget about it once Gaunt wins. Come on, let’s head back and rest a little.”
Alric watched Mauvin’s back as he returned towards the camp, his fingers brushed the lips where he could still felt the lingering feeling on Mauvin’s own lips.
Inside him, there was relief, happiness, and fear. And they weren’t Alric’s emotions.
From the roof of Lord Baldwin’s residence, Arista could see the surrounding still covered by the thick layer of snow. Yet, the temperature wasn’t so low and she quite enjoy the breeze. Spring would come sooner this year, and if it was because of their victory, she couldn’t tell, but she liked to imagine Muriel and Maribor being happy about it.
Her twenty-seven birthday had passed without much celebration and she barely noticed too, to occupied with the aftermath of the invasion. Only one year had passed since the war against the Empire, yet she felt like a decade older. But, she realized, she was happy too, maybe happier than she had been in years.
“Here you are.” Alric joined her: his face was a lot better now that they had settle up a little in the residence, but she wondered if Mauvin’s healing from his wound had something to do with it. “I was looking for you.”
“Do you need me?” she asked.
He nodded. “I’m planning to return to Melengar within the week. I already spoke with the Empress about it and I send a messenger to the nobles… well, the ones that remained. We’ll hold a little council tomorrow to decide how to settle up the restoration. I thought you want to be there.”
Arista nodded. “But I’m not returning to Melengar with you.”
“No?” He sounded surprised.
“I have… other things to do.” She shook her head. “And after all the… witch of Melengar thing, maybe it’s for the best if I’m believed death.”
“You know I don’t care, right, miss necromancer? Sorry, wizardess,” he amended, with a wicked smirk. “For real, sister, I haven’t thanked you properly for having saved me.”
“I don’t feel I saved you at all.”
“No, you kinda resurrected me, and it still counts. So, thank you.” He hugged her tightly and Arista passed her arms around his back, placing her cheek upon his head. She was still a foot taller than him.
“You really not coming?” he asked then, when they parted.
“Not now. But I’ll be back.” She reserved him a smart smile. “You promised to find a bride and get married, remember?”
“Oh, yes,” he replied, rolling his eyes and sounding annoyed. “But I died. I can still produce an heir? Who knows!”
“You’re not going to use this excuse on me, mister.” She chastised it tapping his forehead with her index finger.
Alric laughed. “Fine, fine,” he commented, lifting his hands in a surrender gesture. He reserved an amused look at her and then moved his attention below the parapet of the roof. “But I think that first I have to make sure my body still works perfectly.”
On the courtyard in front of the residence, some servants were taking care of the new-arrived supplies. Between them, Arista recognized Tilly, Alric’s chambermaid, who escaped Drondil Fields and survived the attack against Aquesta.
Arista rolled his eyes at Alric’s amused chuckle.
Mauvin woke up suddenly in the middle of the night, eyes wide open and unable to see anything in the dark of his room. Pleasure spread from his hard dick along all his body. He was alone in the bed, yet he felt as someone was blowing him, a mouth sucking his ball.
“Oh, no,” he realized. “Oh, no, no, no. This isn’t happening. This won’t happen.”
He leaped out of his bed, grabbed his night vest, and put it on as he rushed out of his room. His naked feet clapped on the dark and silent hallway of the palace until he reached the royal wing. No guards stood there, so Mauvin could enter without being spotted. He passed through the welcoming room and opened both panels of the royal bedchamber’s wooden door.
Only a small candle on the night table lightened the room, but it was enough to see Alric’s silhouette as he lied down on his bed, naked, his legs spread open and his chambermaid knelled between them.
Tilly startled at the sound of the door’s panels slammed against the wall; she turned and her face reddened visibility in the dark.
“Y-your Lordship!” Her hands searched frantically for a sheet to cover herself.
“Get out!” Mauvin ordered.
Tilly, a sheet now wrapped around her like a vest, blinked and turned her head a little towards Alric, unsure how to act.
“Mauvin?” Alric asked, his voice weak by the almost orgasm that got interrupted. “W-what are you doing here?”
“We need to talk.”
Alric used his elbows to lift a little his back from the mattress. His gaze passed on his naked body, the black seal standing up on his pale skin, his still hard penis, a very flustered Tilly, and, finally, on Mauvin.
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
With a sigh, Alric nodded. “Go,” he said to Tilly, with a nod of her head.
Tilly seemed relieved: she scrambled out of the bed and she rushed out of the room. Mauvin waited for the sound of her fast steps to disappear and then closed the door. He turned to Alric, whose mouth was bent down in a pout and his eyebrows in a frown. He did little to cover himself, his erection still visible.
“What’s your problem?” he demanded.
“I’ll show you what the problem is.” Mauvin opened his nightshirt and stuck his hand in his pajama pants. His dick was still hard: he grabbed it and rubbed the tip with his thumb.
Immediately, Alric released a moan and let himself fall back on the mattress, arms opened, head sinking in the pillow. He closed his eyes a little, panting slowly. To make his point, Mauvin stroke his dick a couple of times more, then walked slowly next to the bed.
“Dear Maribor… You’re not going to tell me…” Alric exhaled.
“I don’t need to tell you anything,” Mauvin replied. “But I can touch myself more.”
Alric rolled on his side so he was now looking at him. “Wasn’t it only about pain? I thought-”
“Myron’s book talks about generic feelings. I know I felt cold when you did too, but I never consider…”
“I’m so sorry.” Alric’s fingers slipped under Mauvin’s pajama and brushed lightly the skin where the seal was, and his eyes widened a little as he realized he could fell his own touches on his own skin too.
“I’m not,” Mauvin stated. “But I’m not sure I’ll be comfortable feeling… you having sex with someone else.”
Alric nodded. His eyes narrowed and he looked a little far in the darkroom. “It means we can’t have sex with someone else but each other?”
A witty smirk appeared on Mauvin’s lips. “Funny, it didn’t seem such a bad thing.”
“Not sure.” Alric pretended to be irritated. “All I got until now is an interrupted orgasm.”
Before Mauvin could reply, Alric dragged him on the bed next to him and crawled upon him, remaining four-legged upon him, his legs placed next to Mauvin’s torso. He lowered the pajama pants enough to free Mauvin’s erection and kissed him, pulling out a yelp from Mauvin’s mouth.
From that position, Mauvin reached for Alric’s dick and stroked it, from the balls to the tip. He could feel the ghost of his own hands on himself and he knew Alric could feel his own mouth too, as he was blowing himself. It was the strangest and most overwhelming pleasure Mauvin had ever felt.
The obvious result was they came at the same time, bliss making both bodies trembling and fainting after reaching the peak. Alric’s body collapsed and then rolled so he lay back on the mattress next to Mauvin.
“That groom in Aquesta… is still the best blowjob of your life?”
“Don’t ask what you already know.”
The council of Melengar was a poor thing compared to what once used to be. The nobles that hadn’t perished during the war against the Empire lost their life in the attempt of protecting Drondil Fields against the Elves, and now only five people sat at the table Modina arranged for them at Lord Badwin’s dining room.
Other than Arista and Mauvin, there was also Lord Jest’s third son, now the eldest after the death of his two older brothers, and Lord Red’s son, who was only seventeen. Alenda was there two in place of Myron: of course, she wasn’t a melengarian’s noble, but since her family had joined Alric during the war, he felt it was right to invite her too.
Among them, there was no one older than thirty, and Arista was the oldest. Somehow, Alric felt more at ease with them, because he wasn’t anymore the only kid in the room.
“Thank you for coming.” He stood up and gestured with his hand for the other to remain sit. “As all you know, my decision is to return to Melengar in a few days and start the restoration. Empress Modina offered her aid and we surely need it. We still had to verify with our eyes the damages.”
They had flown from Medford before Sir Breckton’s army attack, and none of them were at Drondil Fields during the siege of Elves. In the eyes of everyone, there was concern about what would they find, or not find, when they would return home.
“What you don’t know is my intention to abdicate as an independent king and have Melengar joins the Empire.”
Eyes widened and head jerked in his direction; the most surprised one was Arista while Mauvin, who was aware of his decision, just nodded lightly.
“Alric… why?” Arista asked. “If it’s because…” Her voice trailed off and she looked at the other nobles, not wanting to tell them the ordeal with the soul bond.
“It’s a lot more complicated than this,” Alric told her. “Besides, it’s not like I’m going to stop to be king, I’ll be king under the empire, like Armand and the others. But,” he returned to look at the others, “if someone is displeased with my decision and would prefer Melengar to remain independent, I gladly abdicate in their favor. Arista, you’re first on the line.”
She startled, surprised. Then shook her head. “I… don’t want to be queen. Not anymore.”
“No way, My King,” Mauvin stated, as Alric’s look fell upon him. Alric didn’t expect him to accept, it was just a formality.
Lord Jest and Lord Red refused too. Even if Alenda was there, the real owner of her lands was Myron, and they all knew Myron was king only of his abbey and his library. So that settled the decision for Melegar to become an imperial province under Alric’s government.
Once the others left, Arista placed a hand on Alric’s shoulder. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “I guess… dying experiences put things in perspective. Are you disappointed?”
“No. No. Just…” Arista smiled. “Modina is a great girl, and she’ll be a great Empress. It would be different under Saldur or Ethereld, of course, but they’re not a problem anymore, aren’t they?”
“And my sister killed Luis Guy,” Mauvin intervened. “I guess it meant we took care of Melengar’s enemy once and for all.”
Her hand was still on Alric’s shoulder. “Are you fine?”
Alric pondered the question.
He hadn’t been really fine since his death, but at that point, he had come to make peace with the fact that his life his bonded with Mauvin and he had to deal with it and with the consequences. It wouldn’t be different from losing an arm or a leg and learning to live without it: those are the war’s consequences.
The most concern he had was facing his father’s ghost and his ancestor’s ones too. He would be probably the last king of Melengar and the last of the Essendon line and for quite some time; he felt guilty about it, he felt responsible to be a disappointment for them all.
Yet, all he could feel at that moment was relief.
He was free.
“Surprisingly, I am.”
“I can’t believe that!”
Mauvin laughed at Arista outburst. “We haven’t seen each other in months and that’s the welcome I get?”
The Wintertide celebration of the year will still be held in the fields around Lord Balwin’s residence, yet it promised to be great, definitely better than the year before, where Saldur and Ethereld’s plot had created an insurrection and the war was still ongoing. All the nobles of Avryn gathered there, including the Pickerings, who took a pause from the restoration to Drondil Fields.
“Yes, and I just discovered you and Alric planned to go on a year-long trip around the world like you aren’t the Count of Galilin and the Imperial Governor of Melengar.”
“You realize this is an Imperial Approved Journey around the lands of the Empire and the Empire’s good neighbors in order to fortify our relationship?” Mauvin was trying really hard to keep a straight face as he told everything with a serious tone.
“That’s your excuse.” She pocked his chest. “This trip will be less diplomatic and more about too much wine, too many women, and very little sleep.”
“It would be rude to refuse the hospitality around the world,” Mauvin replied, with a grin.
Arista shook her head. “I can’t believe Modina agreed to this.”
“We sold it very well.”
Their discussion was interrupted by Lenare’s arrival. She reserved a bright smile to Arista, before turning toward his brother. “Can you come with me? We need to discuss an important matter.”
Mauvin looked at Arista, who nodded. “But this discussion isn’t over. I’m going to scold my brother now.”
Once she’d left, Lenare looked at Mauvin curiously, but he shook his head. “Let it go. What’s all about?”
“You’ll see,” she replied, mysteriously.
In the private room she accompanied them, his mother was waiting, along with Denek and Lady Alenda with her chambermaid Emily, now her secretary and consultant for governing the Glouston Province. Mauvin sat at his mother’s left side, with Lenare at his right. It couldn’t be good, being surrounded by so many women.
“What is it?” he asked, sounding relaxed.
Emily coughed a little. “Your Lordship, I realize this situation is highly irregular and such a discussion should be held by someone in Lady Alenda’s family, but we are all well aware that Marquis Lanaklin is… quite particular. So I hope you won’t mind if I spoke on Her Ladyship’s behalf instead.”
“Shall we be this formal?” Mauvin asked. “I mean, we have known each other for quite some time.”
Alenda’s gaze was on the ground and Emily answered, after taking one of her hands in her own. “It’s a private matter and we’d like to do things properly.”
“Okay. Go on, then.”
“As you know, Your Lordship, Marquis Lanaklin entrusted Lady Alenda with his proprieties in Glouston. For obvious reason, he won’t have any heir. So Lady Alenda’s children will entrust entirely an incredible rich and wealthy lands. Bigger enough to be divided between more children, if Maribor will bless her. “This is her desire, after what had happened with her brother.”
Mauvin remained silent, but he didn’t like the discussion.
“Now, Her Ladyship is still a young woman and, I dare to say, a beautiful one. And of course, her heritage as Lanaklin was among the thirty-two most notable noble Houses around. Considering, Your Lordship, your own properties, and your lineage, we are wondering if you would consider the idea of a marriage with her Ladyship as convenient.”
Oh Dear Maribor, Mauvin thought. He knew that most noble marriages happened like that, like a sort of audition for the best candidate, but since his parents married out of love, he really never considered it likely to happen to him.
“You don’t have to decide now,” Alenda added, finally lifting her head. “We’re aware of your assignment for the Empress. But I’d like for you to… thinking about it.”
“Why me?” Mauvin asked, genuinely curious. “I’m pretty sure there are other young nobles with my credential, and some of them are your neighbors too. I can understand ruling out Degan because he’s a commoner, but…”
Lenare released an exasperated huff. “Because she didn’t like other nobles.”
Oh. Oh. Mauvin looked at Alenda’s red cheeks and understood. Inside himself, he sighed heavily. He liked Alenda, he liked all the Lanaklins and he mourned their death, so his answer would be unpleasant. Now he was almost happy they had decided to be so formal.
“Your Ladyship, I am honored of your appreciation and I thank you for your offer, but I must decline,” he said, looking directly at Alenda. He could feel the incredulous look of his mother and Lenare on him.
“Are you sure you won’t think a little more about this?” his mother asked.
Mauvin shook his head. “First of all, I don’t plan to get married. Ever.” It drew even more incredulous stares around. “Denek’s sons can inherit my title.”
Denek grinned. “Can I have the sword too?”
“Over my dead body,” Mauvin replied and gave him a friendly slap. “You see, Your Ladyship, I am in love with someone else and I decided to dedicate all my life to this person. It’s not like I have another choice.”
For a long moment, the silence fell upon the room. It was clear to Mauvin that all of them were thinking about who this person might be, and if they would dare to ask.
“Is it Princess Arista?” Alenda asked them, and immediately became flustered. “I’m sorry, I’m sure it’s not my place to ask and I never want to intrude-”
Mauvin only laughed.
“Right family, wrong person.”
In the evening, Alric scolded Mauvin about this. He laughed at the marriage proposal, while Mauvin told him as they were naked in Alric’s bed, cuddling. But he didn’t appreciate the idea of Mauvin being so carefree about their relationship, at least not before talking about them.
“Now everyone will speak about us.”
“How come?” Mauvin protested. “Only my family and Alenda were there. I doubt they’re going to tell anyone.”
“Once the news is out, it just spreads. You know how it is with gossip around nobles.”
Mauvin kissed Alric’s naked shoulder. “They’ll talk about it until the next rumor arises, and at that point, we’ll be far away, in Trent or Calis or wherever we want. That’s how it is.”
“Still, I would have preferred you being a little vaguer about it.” Alric huffed and turned around in the sheet, turning his back at Mauvin. A flow of disappointment gurgled inside himself.
“Are you ashamed of us?” Mauvin asked.
“I haven’t said that.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Alric didn’t answer. He didn’t have a clear answer. Maybe it was just having spent so many years to hide their relationship, even to deny it under the label of ‘friends that fuck’ in order to control it. They’ve thought for so long it wouldn’t last that having now the chance to be together without concern was something Alric had still problems to process, although most of his recent decision was made because of it.
“Listen.” Mauvin settled in a sitting position. “I apologize for having told anyone without talking with you first. Alenda’s proposal caught me by surprise.” He laughed a little.
Even if Alric wasn’t looking at him, he imagined his eat-shitting grin, and he couldn’t help but smile too. It had been very good sex, and now it was even better.
“I felt I’ve been incredibly good at keeping this relationship a secret when I really would love to scream about this,” Mauvin continued, as Alric remained silent. “But I know you don’t feel the same as me, so I should have kept this into consideration.”
Alric turned at him, frowning. “What do you mean I don’t feel the same?”
“Well, you know…” Mauvin lowered his head so he didn’t look at him. “This soul bond thing really benefits me more than you.”
Considering that it was the soul bond that kept Alric alive, it was a very bold statement. Alric studied a little Mauvin’s face, and the feeling of guilt that fell upon him. And also, love.
“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Alric asked.
Mauvin’s head jerked up, big surprised eyes looked at him. “You… you never told me.”
“I can’t believe it!” Alric threw his hands in the air in frustration. “Why in Maribor’s name do you think I’ll let you fuck me for years?”
“Because I’m good at it and you like sex?” Mauvin’s expression was sheepish, but a little smile started to appear on his lips.
Alric shook his head in disbelief. He cupped Mauvin’s face with both hands. “Mauvin. I love you. I’ve been in love with you for years.”
As he kissed him, a mixture of emotion passed through him thanks to the soul bond: relief, love, and, more than that, a surge of happiness as he never felt it. Alric was overwhelmed by the fact it only needed those three, simple words for Mauvin to felt so happy.
“You’re happy. Happiest I’ve ever felt you.”
“I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen,” Mauvin said, as he dragged Alric back lying on the bed and kept him close. “But I’ve always believed nothing will come out from it, except, maybe, some really good sex. I thought you…”
Alric shook his head. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment he fell in love with Mauvin, probably it was something slowly during the years, the way Mauvin had been always at his side. But he, too, believed that they wouldn’t have been more than two friends that fuck, and, once they’re both married, they would even lose that bond.
The war changed everything.
No, not the war.
The death.
Now they had a bond that couldn’t be severed, and their duty couldn’t stand between that.
“I can’t believe I had to die to get this.”
Mauvin laughed. “I can’t believe your death is one the best thing that happened to me.”
Alric turned to him. “To us.”
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