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The Spoils of Victory

Page 75

by Jem Blackwing

Rafus is a small, neat and extremely charismatic man. He is more than fifty summers, but his eyes have the distinctive Darek glitter of silver, and he carries the title of Crown Prince with the bearing of a much younger man.

Rafus envelops Damon in a great hug. Despite the fact he’s a much smaller man than his son, he still manages to make Damon feel like a child when he embraces him. The top of his head is under Damon’s chin. He sighs with pleasure before pulling back and rising on his toes to kiss Damon on his cheeks and forehead.

“My son,” he says, joyfully. “My fine son. Oh, you have done your father proud – an entire Gala for your honour.”

Turning to Inez, Rafus kisses each of her pale hands in turn. “My beautiful daughter of love – a fine addition to my house and my line.” He keeps hold of Inez’s hands as he turns to Damon. “You must fuck her well and hard Damon, put a babe inside her. I have only one grandchild to my great chagrin.” He strokes Damon’s cheek. “My firstborn son.” He leans in and kisses the place he touches. “Your mother would have been proud of you.”

My mother, Damon thinks. The whore you love so much because she proved that you could father a child after years of failing with your first wife.

When he thinks this, he notices his father’s first wife is there too, hovering behind Rafus. If she has any feelings about Rafus’s effusing over his bastard son, she does not show them. Princess Karo has always been a dignified, studious woman. She is tall and slender, taller than her husband, and wears her dark hair cropped short, something Damon has not seen on any other Azurian woman but the Brides of Zai.

Damon greets and offers his hand to her. She takes it, but loosely. Damon has never known what Karo thinks of him.

Ullinor, Rafus’s second wife is also with him. The mother of Atticul, Ferra, and Endrew is a pale-skinned blonde woman with a much more rounded figure than Karo’s. Damon greets her too, but she declines to shake his hand. She has always been much more outwardly hostile to Damon.

Is she the source of Atticul’s jealousy? Damon thinks of Lyr’s concerns. Could the origin of Atticul’s fear about the Ullinor question be Ullinor herself?

Damon turns and looks back at Lyr, sitting with Inez’s three handmaids on a wooden bench at the wall. He is shocked at the way his heart catches in his throat. Want – just from a glimpse of him – pure pounding lust. The feeling is so strong he is amazed no one seems to notice.

Rafus explains that they are expected in the Hall of Twelve for a ceremony to mark the Imperial Army’s return from Ik-Sundal, and takes Damon’s arm as they walk together through the palace with their attendants processing behind.

The Hall of Twelve – the grandest chamber in the entire palace – is vast. Here, the Artemian temple the palace once was is still clearly visible. The twelve Sidu of Artemia are carved into the ceiling of glittering pink stone.

They are announced by heralds to great cheers, as Damon is proclaimed, “Master Damon Darekul, Hero of Azuria, The One Man Army,” and escorted to the wide space in front of the high table, where Selim sits in his grey robe and bare feet, a fresh mark of Zai etched on his forehead. He is flanked by the members of the Rose Court, richly dressed in formal robes of office. Including – Damon notes – Atticul.

Damon kneels, Inez too, before they rise at Selim’s command and take their places on the dais.

Next to Selim are three empty chairs. One for Rafus, at the Emperor’s right hand, the other two, for Damon and Inez – truly places of great honour.

Lyr stands behind Damon as his cupbearer. As he steps forward to pour the wine. Damon allows himself the small pleasure of touching Lyr’s finger with his own. The touch – in this place, The Grand Hall of The Rose Palace – feels like wildfire.

“And now,” Rafus exclaims, “the only thing I need to complete my joy is my other hero son. Where is my Sweetpea? My beloved Endrew?”

“Endrew will be here soon, Father,” Atticul says from a little further down the table, on the other side of Selim.

Atticul glances from Rafus to Damon and raises a dark eyebrow. “Brother, of sorts, how are you? I did enjoy your feast. I am hosting a Pleasure Night in the Tower of the Heir tonight, perhaps you will attend and I can return the favour.”

“What feast was this?” says Rafus, leaning past Damon to speak to Atticul.

Inez says, “We celebrated the Feast of Surrus.”

“Ah, Surrus,” says Rafus thoughtfully. “Surrus is one of the most honoured prophets of Zai. Some scholars, Doroth Zain tells me, consider that she is Zai’s mother.”

The family reunion continues. Princess Ferra arrives late to the hall, looking as fragile as ever on the arm of Vindar. Umbert accompanies them and he races up to Rafus when he sees him. Rafus grabs him, standing from his seat to swing him into the air, getting a scream of delight from his stout grandson.

“So blessed a man am I,” Rafus says, sitting back down and seating Umbert on his lap.” See this, my son,” he is talking to Atticul, pointing to Umbert. “My only grandchild. I want you married within the year. My sweet Lilac Doe is married to the Great Chancellor Vindar, my hero King Damon is wed and hard at work creating strong grandsons with my fair daughter of love, Inez. I want to see you doing your duty, Atticul. I need more grandchildren. Playmates for my sweet Umbert. ”

Umbert laughs. “Grandsire, I ride,” he says, trying to encourage Rafus to jolt him up and down on his lap to mimic a horse at gallop.

Atticul nods, but says nothing. Damon wonders if he noticed their father referring to him by his old pet name, ‘King Damon.’

Quietly, Damon says to Rafus, “Father, you should not call me King Damon in front of Atticul.”

Rafus leans close. “Atticul ought to remember his position. I am the heir of Azuria, Crown Prince, but I should not be. I am a third son. If Emperor Markus had not been a great sinner, or if Emperor Selim had fathered even one son, I would not be. Atticul needs to understand that birthrights are slippery things.”

Damon thinks perhaps Rafus taught that lesson to Atticul too well.

Before Damon can say another word, the Heralds’ trumpets blast and the cry goes up, “Prince Endrew Darek, Duke of Vashti.”