Sui Writes

Tag: BLNovels

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 4-3

    Arc 1- The Case of the Forged Silver Coins

    Chapter 4-3

    Azula read the thorough report written by the Port Magistrate with a mix of awe and annoyance. The document was signed and sealed by the magistrate and Draeya General who had made a solemn promise before the magistrate to catch thieves. It legitimized Azula’s need for a legion escort to Genad City.

    Shaking his head, Azula could only admit that the general had skill in dealing with the corrupt.

    Azula turned to look at Draeya General. They stood outside the magistrate’s office. Draeya General’s officers were getting their horses ready. Draeya General stood tall waiting for his officers to get ready. His expression was calm and ready for whatever came next.

    Azula frowned when the general looked at him.

    “What?”

    “What is your name?” Azula asked. “I can’t keep calling you Draeya General.”

    “Why not?”

    “You called me Azula in the magistrate’s office. If you’re going to be helping my clan, we should know your name. Otherwise, my people won’t trust you.”

    Draeya General studied him for a minute, then stepped closer and held out his right hand to Azula. Azula gripped the report from the magistrate in his left hand and took Draeya General’s right hand in greeting.

    “Raithion Maenaer at your service. My close family calls me Raith.”

    Raithion’s handshake was unexpectedly firm. His palm had calluses, convincing Azula that he was not spoiled despite his high station in life. Damn it, so sexy!

    “Can I call you Raith?” Azula asked as he let go of Raithion’s right hand.

    Azula grinned and brought the paper he held to cover his lips.

    “No.”

    “General Maenaer?”

    “That is my father,” Raithion said. “You can call me General Raithion.”

    “General Raith,” Azula said with a happy smile making Raithion scowl. Azula ignored it and stepped closer to Raithion.

    “Let’s go to the dock. My crew is waiting. We can’t delay delivery to Genad. I’m worried something will happen to my family’s workshops if we don’t make it in time.”

    “Why can’t you meet us outside the port town? There is only one road out of the port,” Raithion said, folding his arms against his chest. “We’ll wait for you at the exit.”

    Azula’s frown deepened.

    “No way,” Azula said. “Do you want to stay on the outside, offering protection without understanding what you’re protecting? How can we trust you?”

    Raithion narrowed his gaze as he studied Azula. Then, he seemed to decide as he nodded.

    “Haedor and I will go with you,” Raithion said. “The rest of the legion will wait for us at the port exit heading to Naga State. Azula, having my legion officers crowding your dock station will make everyone nervous. I assume you’re still conducting business as usual. So, Haedor and I meeting your clan members is enough. In any case, you’re right. Visiting your ship will allow me to understand more about your operations and why anyone would come after you.”

    Azula suddenly remembered the people who were following him and Sennin. He had forgotten about those two women when he met Draeya General and was then dragged to the Magistrate’s Office by him. Looking around the busy compound, he wondered if he would catch a glimpse of them.

    “They’re not here,” Raithion said, drawing Azula’s gaze.

    “What?”

    “The two who were following you,” Raithion said. “They retreated when we entered the Magistrate’s Compound. We have not seen them since.”

    “Oh,” Azula frowned. “You saw them too?”

    “They followed you to the inn but stayed away when they saw my legion officers. I’m glad you were aware.”

    “Hm,” Azula shrugged. “A lot of people want to take our ore or tools, sometimes the wares we make. It pays to be vigilant. Then, let me take you to our ship.”

    “Alright,” Raithion started to head to his horse, but Azula shook his head.

    “You don’t need the horse,” Azula said. “We’ll walk, it’s not far.”

    “But—”

    “Come on, General Raith,” Azula said, taking Raithion’s right hand, and started leading him to the open gates. “Also, let Lieutenant Haedor let go of my friend. I need Sennin.”

    ****

    Raithion stared at the spot where Azula held his right hand as they walked along the main street of the Port City. He could not remember the last time someone had held his hand. Azula reminded him of an anxious child. Azula’s steps were energetic as he walked. He gripped the report from the magistrate in his right hand like a trophy. The smile he directed at Raithion in intervals made him want to laugh.

    “You can slow down,” Raithion said when Azula looked on the verge of breaking into a run. “I won’t run away.”

    “Really?” Azula turned to look at him, his grip on Raithion’s right hand still tight. “This is the first time legion officers are helping us with no payment. I’m nervous.”

    “Are you afraid I will run away?” Raithion asked with a chuckle, amused by Azula’s logic.

    Azula stopped in the middle of the street, forcing Raithion to a stop too. Azula stepped in close and then looked up. Suddenly, Raithion met intense hazel eyes. The noise of the street disappeared and they stood in perfect stillness.

    Azula was shorter than him but that did not deter his presence in the moment.

    “The thieves we’re chasing or evading have taken twelve of our people,” Azula said, his voice soft but full of passion. “Twelve families are mourning the loss of a breadwinner in their homes. The pain of this loss hurts us all. So, when you walk into our ship and promise to protect, we’ll take your word seriously. That’s who we are. The Sura takes the promise of protection with solemn belief. If you won’t be able to meet us on the same level, then it will be better if you walk away.”

    Azula let go of Raithion’s right hand and lifted the magistrate’s report.

    “This is nice to have for use later. But it is secondary. Right now, I need to know I can trust you with Sennin’s life, and the lives of the men who are helping me reach Genad City.”

    Raithion held Azula’s determined gaze for a minute, then his lips shifted into a small smile. It had been a long time since he met such a passionate soul. The capital city was full of people wanting to get ahead. Thieves, liars, insincere, and without gratitude, that’s what he dealt with most times. To meet such a passionate individual… was refreshing.

    Raithion took in a deep breath and let it out with a nod. He reached down and took out a dagger he kept in a hidden scabbard in his boot. Holding the smooth handle, he brought it up for Azula to see.

    “Hold it too,” Raithion said, nodding as he held Azula’s gaze.

    Azula broke their gaze to study the dagger he held, then brought his right hand to the dagger. He met Raithion’s gaze again.

    “What are we doing?”

    “Your Sura values your family,” Raithion said. “I’m a soldier first. And my oath is to protect. I will not run away or shirk my duty if you’re under my protection. This is my oath, on my blade, I will protect your people. Do you believe it?”

    Azula held his gaze for a moment longer then tightened his hold on the dagger, his callused fingers gripping Raithion’s right hand.

    “I believe you,” Azula said, then smiled, a startling curve of his lips that left Raithion stunned as Azula let go of his hand and turned away. “Let’s go, General Raith.”

    Previous | Blades of Ashes ToC | Next

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 4-1

    Arc 1- The Case of the Forged Silver Coins

    4-1

    “Sir,” Azula said, facing the magistrate of the Naga Port Town. “I’m here to report a series of thefts.”

    “Yes, you’ve already said that,” the magistrate said, his attention on the bowl of grapes on the desk before him. He sorted them out, one by one, removing skins and piling them on a small saucer.

    Azula frowned at the habit.

    Who peeled grapes?

    The magistrate’s office was a hall with six other desks arranged around the room. Six officers sat at their desks, each one busy. Not with matters of the magistrate’s office. Oh no, that would be too much to ask of this lot.

    One read a book, laughing as he ate peanuts from a bowl on his desk. Another was busy assembling a miniature boat on his desk. Azula would have admired his concentration in a different setting. Three were sleeping. The last one watched him while he chewed on a stick.

    Azula returned his gaze to the rotund man sitting behind the official magistrate’s desk. The magistrate’s face was round and soft, like a fresh bun from the oven. His hair was receding leaving him with an impressive bald spot at the top of his head. His dark brown hair was still held in a ponytail.

    The magistrate’s uniform was a rich purple tunic and a matching jacket decorated with gray embroidery on the sleeves and the collars. A medal of his office was pinned to the lapel of the embroidered jacket.

    Azula could not see more of the magistrate because he sat behind his mammoth desk. He looked overly fascinated with the grapes he was peeling.

    “Sir,” Azula said.

    “Consider the problem reported,” the Magistrate said, picking up the saucer filled with peeled grapes.

    Azula winced when he started eating them in a handful. Grape juice trailed down between the magistrate’s fingers and he wondered how this man kept his office.

    The magistrate smiled wide at Azula.

    “We’ll do our best to catch the thief.”

    “Don’t you want to know what is stolen?’ Azula asked, a frown creasing his forehead.

    Azula looked back at the open doors of the magistrate’s office. Four soldiers guarded the entrance. They each held a spear and wore a sword, ready to defend their magistrate’s office at any sign of trouble.

    “What is stolen?” the Magistrate asked, though he was not interested. He ate another handful of grapes and looked at Azula with a bored expression.

    Azula cursed Draeya General under his breath for the hundredth time. Thirty minutes ago, when he and Sennin finished eating, they got up to leave the table. Azula wanted to return to the ship to start preparations for unloading the carriage. However, the moment they stepped outside, Draeya General’s lieutenant arrested Sennin and asked their legion brothers to hold him.

    Shocked, Azula turned to Draeya General.

    ‘If you want your friend released you will go to the magistrate’s office with me. Report the theft of your ore.’

    Draeya General did not give him an option. He kept walking with eight of his legion officers following him. Haedor, the brute, gripped Azula’s left arm and dragged him away from the inn. Poor Sennin was held by the rest of Draeya General’s legion.

    When they got to the magistrate’s office, Draeya General pushed him to enter alone.

    Azula cursed under his breath. If Draeya General was going to help him, why insist on him reporting to the magistrate? Everyone knew the magistrate did not care to investigate cases that did not benefit him.

    Azula took in a deep breath and prayed for patience.

    “Our Sura Clan’s cargo carriages have been hijacked six times on the road to the Capital City. The thieves have murdered twelve drivers and taken our ore. We seek the government’s help,” Azula said, looking at the Magistrate.

    “That is a sadness,” the Magistrate said with a nod, staring at Azula.

    His expression had not changed. It felt like Azula was reporting that the sun had risen this morning and was now overhead. Azula fought a scowl.

    “And what do you think our magistrate’s office can do to help?”

    “Start looking for the thieves?” Azula suggested.

    “Hm,” the Magistrate said with a nod. “Yes, that is a very good idea. But…”

    Azula frowned when the Magistrate trailed off and glanced at the man chewing on a stick.

    “But what, Hulan?” the Magistrate asked.

    “If the thieves are so vicious as to murder twelve drivers, how can our office of four officers help?”

    “Yes, exactly,” the Magistrate said, smiling at Azula. “It sounds perilous.”

    Azula started counting back from a hundred. His temper would not help him here. There was Sennin to save and he had cargo to offload at the docks, and a journey to Genad City to complete. He could not be arrested here.

    “Will you record the crime?” Azula asked.

    “Oh,” the Magistrate said, with a nod. “Yes. I guess we should note it down somewhere. Don’t worry. We’ll get it down as soon as Siva wakes up. He had a difficult night last night. His wife gave birth to twins and they do not get enough rest in their house anymore. It’s all the crying. I say, babies and wives should live in one residence, while the husband lives in a nice quiet room. But that’s me. What do you think?”

    Azula cursed under his breath, forgetting to count down his temper.

    Clenching his fists, he started to take a step forward, determined to shove the remaining unpeeled grapes into the magistrate’s mouth. The imbecile deserved it, what a horrendous idiot.

    A commotion started before he could reach the magistrate’s desk, and he turned to find Draeya General entering the office with his lieutenant and legion officers. They were fully armed and looked like warmongers.

    Two of the legion officers used their sword handles to hit the desks of the magistrate’s officers, startling them to attention. The sleepy officers fell out of their chairs and stood when they saw legion officers with panic in their eyes.

    Hulan, who had answered the magistrate earlier, stood at attention staring at the ground hoping to go unnoticed.

    Azula frowned.

    Hulan was suspicious. His stance looked confident even as he lowered his head in the presence of Draeya General. His eyes watched Draeya General with intent. A slight smile curved his lips. Azula’s frown deepened, but he had no time to dwell on why.

    The magistrate dropped the plate he held on the floor making a mess of his peeled grapes as he stood up with a gasp. His eyes looked like white balls as they took in Draeya General’s eventful entry.

    Azula frowned at Draeya General who came to stand next to him with casual grace.

    The general wore his formal coat. The black coat with its gold embroidery announced his station and rank. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back as he studied the magistrate with interest. His legion officers were busy intimidating the surprised magistrate officers on each side of the room.

    “Why did you make me come in here if you were going to follow me?” Azula asked, with annoyance. “Making me report a crime to this idiot before you can help me. Did you want to watch me turn into a fool?”

    “It was interesting watching you try to look humble. Don’t insult yourself by calling yourself a fool, Chieftain’s son,” Draeya General said. “And stop scowling at me. I’m not the one who has pissed you off.”

    “You’re holding my friend hostage.”

    Azula cursed under his breath and turned his scowl to the shocked magistrate.

    “You should breathe, Sir,” Azula reminded the Magistrate. “You may choke on the peeled grapes in your mouth.”

    The magistrate sneered and started to point at him, but the grapes in his mouth choked him and he started to cough.

    Azula laughed.

    “Ha, that’s what you get for treating me like an idiot,” Azula said.

    “Hush,” Draeya General warned next to him and stepped forward.

    The general pushed a goblet of water standing next to a jug on the table to the magistrate. The magistrate took the goblet and drank deeply. When he stopped coughing, he placed his goblet on the table and looked at Draeya General.

    “What is the meaning of this? How can a general walk into the Magistrate’s Office armed and cause a commotion?”

    “I heard there was a problem of thieves terrorizing the citizens. I came running to help out because it is what I should do. What do you think, Magistrate Netan?” Draeya General asked. “I, Draeya General, am responsible for looking out for the small citizen.”

    “Draeya!” Magistrate Netan gasped and straightened to his full height. “Ay, if you told me you were coming we would have met you at the gates into the compound. Why—?”

    “No need for the ceremony,” Draeya General said, lifting his hand to stop the magistrate from coming around his desk. “I’m here to pick up a task from the magistrate. How could I announce myself for you to meet me at the gates? I’m not so insolent.”

    Draeya General turned to look at Azula and winked.

    Azula made a face at him, but the general had already returned his attention to the magistrate.

    Magistrate Netan was busy wiping the table and arranging his chair behind his desk.

    “Draeya General, please,” Magistrate Netan said, holding out his hands to his desk for the general to sit.

    “No. Magistrate Netan should sit,” Draeya General said, holding out his right hand to the chair. “I still need you to write down everything this young man said to you. Otherwise, how can you ask me to help him catch thieves?”

    Magistrate Netan stared at Azula in surprise, he stuttered, frowned at Azula, then nodded with enthusiasm.

    “Right. General is right,” the Magistrate said and sat in the chair with a shaky sigh. “Siva, bring me a paper and a pen. I’ll write down the young man’s statement, and orders to catch the thieves.”

    “You need three copies of the report,” Draeya General said and folded his arms against his chest. “Azula, why don’t you start your statement?”

    Azula was caught between awe and annoyance with how fast Draeya General got the magistrate to work. He wished he had half the power. Their Sura Clan would be far richer he thought with a frown.

    Draeya General touched his right shoulder and he scowled at the man before he stated his grievances, one by one.

    *~*~*~*

    Previous | Blades of Ashes TOC | Next

  • A Thousand Years of Hope Ch 16-2

    Tani cursed under his breath as he walked away from Dante, his heart speeding in his chest. Just now, when Dante cut the dead branch off the tree, he thought they were going to kiss. It hurt him when Dante turned away without giving in to the urge.

    It was always so difficult at the start of their relationship. This pull between them was too hard to manage. If Tani were asked, they would have spent most of their time here in bed, but…

    He could not be greedy. He needed to remember to take his time. Remember their connection was new for Dante. Their love was fresh…again.

    Tani closed his eyes in frustration and rubbed his forehead with his right hand. He would have let out a soft sigh, but then a strong hand gripped his left wrist, pulling him to a stop.

    Tani gasped when Dante dragged him into his arms and kissed him hard. A deep hungry, demanding kiss that had Tani closing his eyes and his free hand gripping Dante’s left arm to keep steady.

    Dante let go of his wrist. He cupped Tani’s face and kissed him again, like a man starved, finally giving Tani the passionate kiss he had been craving.

    Tani let out a soft moan, wrapping his arms around Dante’s waist, his fingers bunching Dante’s white linen shirt. Feeling the heat coming off Dante’s body. Tani closed his eyes, losing himself in their hungry kiss. He felt too hot, insanely needy, his skin turning sensitive, needing to feel Dante’s hands on him.

    Dante broke their kiss a moment and Tani opened his eyes to find Dante studying him. Dante caressed Tani’s bottom lip with his thumb.

    Dante’s gaze was sharp and filled with heat. His lips slightly parted, his breathing coming a little too fast, as he slid an arm around Tani’s waist and pulled him closer. Closer still until their chests touched. Tani’s breath came in shaky breaths as he brought his arms around Dante’s shoulders. Dante held him tighter, turning to pin Tani against the trunk of the closest apple tree. His big body pressed against Tani in full possessive ownership.

    Tani’s breath snagged as his cock filled with need, arousal engulfing him in a hot cloud. Dante took advantage of his parted lips and set his mouth to his again. His kiss was ravaging. Tani’s blood surged in response, his body molding to Dante. He tightened his arms around Dante, savoring his taste, hot, wild, and utterly uncivilized. Their shared heat was so familiar it brought the sting of tears to Tani’s eyes.

    Dante pressed him harder against the apple tree, his hands moving over Tani’s body, stroking down Tani’s back, cupping his bottom, and grinding his swollen cock against him. Long fingers slipped between them, feeling Tani’s hard length through his trousers. Tani let out an aroused moan, his fingers digging into Dante’s hair in response. He undid the rubber band Dante used to hold his hair and sunk his fingers into the soft tresses, holding on, making Dante moan.

    Dante pressed his palm on Tani’s hard length, his touch bold, sensual. Tani had seconds of warning; his hard cock pulsed so hard, he feared he might disgrace himself from the sensation. Then Dante stroked his palm over him and Tani forgot modesty. An intense orgasm built up inside him and fractured into a million pieces leaving him shaking. Tani let out a hoarse moan, arching into Dante’s caress at a loss.

    Dante took in his moans with a sweet kiss, and a soft sob escaped when Dante wrapped a secure arm around him to keep him steady. Holding him tight through his weakening ecstasy. Their kiss broke and Tani buried his face into Dante’s shoulder, closing his eyes as his breath came too fast trying to find his balance again. He clung to Dante’s shoulders afraid he was going to melt to the ground.

    Dante buried his nose into Tani’s right shoulder and breathed him in. He pressed his lips on the soft curve of Tani’s shoulder, sucking on sensitive skin, and then licked at the spot with hot intimacy.

    Tani trembled.

    “This is my answer,” Dante murmured into his ear after a while. His hot breath sent maddening electric tingles racing down Tani’s spine. “I want you. All of you. Every part of you. I don’t want to wait. Let’s make love, Tani.”

    Tani held on to Dante, elated. He opened his eyes and stared at the rows of apple trees closest to them. They were filled with blooming white flowers, even the ones that had none before were now heavy with them. He grinned and decided to hide this strange happenstance of his ecstasy from Dante, for the moment anyway.

    “Let’s go inside,” Tani murmured.

    “Mm,” Dante agreed.

    Tani held onto Dante and teleported them straight to the bathroom. His cheeks flushed with color when Dante cupped his face and tilted his head up.

    “You’re gorgeous,” Dante murmured, studying Tani’s face. His thumb stroked Tani’s right cheek, the pad of his thumb shifting to trace over Tani’s bottom lip.

    “I’ve wanted to see you this way for a while,” Dante said.

    “Messy because you drove me to the brink with a simple touch?” Tani asked, his cheeks flaming, somewhat mortified by his swift orgasm in the orchard. He had thought he had more control. Turns out Dante could drive him to the edge with a simple kiss.

    “Wanting me,” Dante corrected, taking Tani’s lips in a soft kiss. Then he murmured against Tani’s lips, “as much as I want you. There’s nothing messy about our passion. It’s how it should be.”

    Dante kissed him again and then helped Tani out of his clothes. His hands were gentle as he helped Tani pull off his t-shirt. Dante dropped it to the floor with a small smile. His gaze was appreciative as he took in Tani’s figure. His fingers were sure when they reached for Tani’s trousers. He unbuttoned them with a single flick of his fingers. Tani held Dante’s gaze as Dante pulled down the zipper and Tani’s trousers dropped to the floor. Tani stepped out of them and closed his eyes when Dante reached for his dark underwear. His fingers warm against Tani’s skin.

    Dante took Tani’s lips in a short sweet kiss, as he pushed his messy boxer briefs down.

    Then, Tani stood naked before Dante.

    Dante looked at him, his gaze heated as it traveled down from his shoulders, down his chest, to his stomach then to his aching cock. Tani fought the urge to step back as he faced his beloved for the first time in decades. With no clothes to shield him, and no lies between them, Tani decided to take off the glamour that hid his origins. His eyes took on the distinctive fox clan slits. Kinon’s cuffs on his wrists restored to their true form, heavy and punishing on his wrists.

    Tani met Dante’s gaze.

    “This is my true self,” Tani murmured, his voice shaking, vulnerable.

    Dante took a step closer. He placed his hands on Tani’s bare shoulders. His fingers started a slow gentle caress down Tani’s arms. He held Tani’s gaze as his fingers wrapped around Tani’s wrists, holding the gold cuffs that marked him a deviant. He lifted Tani’s right hand to his lips and pressed his lips to the cool gold metal.

    Dante then brought Tani’s hand to his left cheek and Tani straightened his fingers to cup Dante’s cheek.

    “What?” Tani asked.

    “I think you’re expecting that I’ll turn away from you. You show me your cuffs, your eyes, wanting me to cringe and run,” Dante said, shaking his head. He took Tani’s hands and brought them to his chest and the buttons of his white linen shirt. “I won’t, Tani. You’re stuck with me now, no matter what we face in the future.”

    Tani sucked in air at the mention of the future. He thought about Cale’s warning. The idea that someone took Dante’s life when they parted filled his head. Panic had him dropping his gaze to the buttons on Dante’s shirt. The longer he spent with Dante, the more he wished Cale were wrong. The more he wanted to know what a future with Dante looked like. The future he never once experienced in Dante’s company, he wanted to know it.

    Tani undid the first button of Dante’s shirt and looked up to find Dante studying him.

    Their future seemed far away and unsolvable, but the now was here. Tani decided he would lose himself in their shared bliss.

    <<Previous | Table of Contents | Next>>

  • A Thousand Years of Hope

    Chapter One

    The sunrise turned the vineyard landscape into a beautiful spectacle.  Dante Arturo drove along the main path between the fields in an open jeep.  He loved mornings at Artri, but today felt different.  He worried in the face of the beautiful sunrise.

    Driving faster, Dante brought the jeep to a stop near a sizeable olive grove on the edge of the property.  Getting out of the jeep, he grabbed the bag filled with sample containers and walked fast, hurrying down a wide path between olive trees.

    “Dante.”

    Dante turned left when he heard his name and raised his hand in greeting when he saw the vineyard manager, Hasim Kaan, waving at him.

    “Over here,” Hasim said.

    Dante hurried to where Hasim stood behind the thickest olive tree in the grove.  Dante slowed down when he saw his mother crouched by the roots of the olive tree, her hand digging in the soil.  When she heard Dante, she took a bunch and held it out to him on her palm.

    “What do you think is causing the soil to turn this black?” Nora Arturo asked.

    Dante crouched next to her and took her palm.  The soil on her palm was indeed as black as night.  Dante bent his head over her palm and took a deep whiff.  The soil smelled of decay and death.

    “The soil is corrupted,” Dante said with a sigh.

    “Corrupted soil does not come out of the blue,” Nora said, narrowing her gaze on the black soil.

    Dante got a glass container from his bag and placed the soil on his mother’s palm into the container.  He wiped his palm over his mother’s cleaning the dirt out of his mother’s skin, and smiled at her.

    “Don’t worry so much,” Dante said.  “We’ll find out the source of the problem.”

    “I hope we find it soon,” Nora said, getting up from her crouch to touch the oldest olive tree in their home.  “I don’t want to lose any olive tree, Dante.”

    “One of my colleagues gave me a contact working in the Elderwood Conservancy.  He says the conservancy is on the west side of our island, and it has researchers who can tell us what’s wrong with the soil.  I’ll take these samples to them today,” Dante said.  “They may help us.”

    “I’ll leave it to you,” Nora said, with a sigh, tracing the bark of the olive tree one last time.

    Dante got to work collecting soil samples around the olive tree.

    “I’ll have the workers help me keep watch over the grapevines,” Hasim said, helping Dante with digging deeper for soil samples.  “It wouldn’t do to have this black soil invade the vines.”

    “It will be hard work,” Dante said.  “Let me know if you need extra help.  I’ll also come during the weekends.”

    “We can manage, Dante,” Hasim assured him.  “You focus on discovering what is infecting our soil.  We have never had this kind of trouble before.”

    “Could it from the beach?” Nora asked, her gaze shifting to the bushes beyond the olive grove and leading to the beach beyond.  “An oil spill or something worse.”

    “Perhaps,” Hasim said.  “I have three men checking the beach.  We haven’t found anything yet that would sink into the soil enough to rot it.  We’ll keep looking though.”

    Once Dante and Hasim finished collecting the soil samples, Nora asked Hasim to walk the grove and report on the extent of the black corrupted soil.  Dante led Nora back to the jeep, and he drove back to the main house.

    “When are you returning to Istanbul?” Nora asked, when Dante pulled up at the back of the house.  She got out of the jeep and Dante reached for the bag with the soil samples, following suit.

    The jeep was used to work around the vineyard, so he left the keys in it.  Dante followed his mother to the kitchen entrance.

    “I have a lecture at Koc University this morning,” Dante said.  “After, I’ll fly to the U.S.—”

    “You’re responding to that woman’s summons,” Nora said, her expression one of disapproval when she looked at him.

    Nora did not like his ex-girlfriend.  She thought Viola was not good enough for him.  After all these years, Viola’s relationship with Nora remained strained.  However, Viola was the mother of his two children.  A result of his past stupid decisions.  He could not change what he did to, and with Viola.  So, he tried to take responsibility, even though Nora did not like it.

    “Mom, Zach, and April are my children,” Dante said, as they entered the kitchen.  His mother went to the sink to wash her hands and Dante reached for his own car keys in a holder on the kitchen counter.  “At some point, we might need to take them both in, or one of them.  You know what happens when our gifts come in.”

    “They are free of the bloodline,” Nora said, making Dante stop to stare at her in surprise.  “I checked them, Dante when I visited you in New York.  Zach was two, April a baby.  It was my duty as their grandmother, as it was your grandfather’s to support you.  I found no energy on your children with Viola.  They are normal, unremarkable.”

    Dante gave an internal scoff at the way she said the word normal, as though it were a crime.  Dante sighed at the familiar tirade.  His mother found his relationship with Viola the greatest failure of his life.

    “Viola was never the right match for you,” Nora continued.  “Dante, you know our family marries for love.  You like men more than women.  We have both known it since Grandmaster Landi started training you.  If you wanted someone to make children with, I would have found a suitable girl.  I have no idea how you fell in with Viola.  Your time in New York with the Grandmaster failed you. You and Viola, it was the worst union I ever saw.  I will never approve of her.”

    “Zach and April remain your blood,” Dante said, his right brow rising in question.

    “Of course,” Nora said. “I will always be their grandmother.  They are welcome to visit our home.  However, they do not have the power to own this house.  When their descendants gain the gifts of our bloodline, this house will take them in.”

    “What about Viola?” Dante asked.

    “She is not welcome.  She would not understand our way of life,” Nora stated.  “I don’t need to educate you on why.”

    Dante stared at her for a full minute and then nodded in understanding.

    “When will you get the samples to the conservancy?” Nora asked, moving to the double tea maker to pour herself a glass of tea.

    “I’ll stop by before leaving the island,” Dante said.  “Mom.”

    Nora looked up from checking the tea.

    “Don’t always blame Viola,” Dante said, giving her a small smile.  “I was also at fault with her.  I failed her.”

    “You failed each other,” Nora corrected.  “It was not easy to watch from my end.  The saddest story here belongs to Zach and April.  They will miss getting to know the real you.  Perhaps, your story is sad too.”

    “Why for me?” Dante asked with a frown.

    Nora let out a soft sigh.

    “Because, you never learned how to fall in love,” Nora said.  “Viola will love again, and so will Zach, and April.  You on the other hand…”

    Nora shook her head and returned her attention to the tea maker.

    Dante watched her pour herself a glass of tea and wished he could refute her conclusions.

    Dante turned to enter the corridor to head to the front hall.  He took a step, and the house started shaking.  Walls vibrating, windows opening and closing.  The house came alive, vibrating, shaking items on shelves, chairs, and tables.

    Dante stepped back into the kitchen to make sure his mother was safe.  He found all the ingredient containers from the cabinets, cups, spoons, plates, and even his mother’s favorite tea maker suspended in the air.  His mother stood in the middle of it all having a cup of tea.  Gold sparks decorating the tips of her fingers on her left hand.  She smiled at Dante.

    “Looks like your ancestors have something to say,” Nora said.  “The grimoire must have opened downstairs.”

    Dante nodded and with a wave of his hand, his magic restored his mother’s kitchen to rights.  He hurried into the corridor, opened the door that would lead him to the basement halls, running to see what would make their family’s grimoire come alive.

    Read more at : Gayauthors.org

  • The Reluctant Consort – 1

    Chapter 1

    In a time of prosperity, four kingdoms came together and formed an empire.

    The great Kaveh Miran, an accomplished general from Silver Nation, led the great political alliance that made Sun Kingdom, Iron Land, Blood Nation and Silver Kingdom into one.  A great alliance that became known as The Akasha Empire.

    By joint decision, the kings of each nation named Kaveh Miran the Emperor of Akasha, making him and his family responsible for keeping the peace between nations and ensuring a long-standing empire.  Kaveh accepted the mandate and built an imperial city in the middle of the Akasha Empire.  Making it easy for any nation to approach his palace for assistance as needed. The Miran Family would then take on the duty of protecting and serving all in need.

    Akasha was abundant with resources: cultivating land, minerals, food, and water.  What they did not have they made up for by trading with neighboring countries.  Merchants in Akasha grew prosperous businesses, and rose to fortune and fame in a glorious era known as The Miran Era.

    When Kaveh Miran grew tired, he left the care of the empire to his three children: Kiyan, Kastan and Kyra.

    Kiyan became Emperor of Akasha, Kastan a Prince of Akasha, while Kyra married a foreign king to strengthen Akasha’s allies and became Queen of Tanad, moving to the North of Akasha.

    Of all his children, Kaveh Miran had always thought Kastan as the strongest.

    For that same reason, Emperor Kiyan made Prince Kastan the commander of Akasha’s army.

    Kastan took on the role of protector of the Akasha Empire, and lived his life for the safety and care of the empire and its people.  When he turned twenty, he too married a princess from Blood Nation to strengthen the royal family’s ties.

    For this marriage, Kaveh granted Kastan a Dukedom in the middle of a lush valley named Silver Shore.  Kastan took his new wife to live at Silver Shore, glad to escape the many pressures of the Akasha Palace.

    Princess Jian was two years younger than Kastan.  She was beautiful and reconciled to her fate.  She married Kastan out of duty.  Their marriage was a mutual alliance and when she got pregnant, they were both happy that their new home would have an heir to carry on their lineage.

    Kastan did not count on his wife being too delicate to give birth.

    He certainly did not think that Jian would die in childbirth and leave him responsible for a newborn son.  The night Jian died, Prince Kastan held his newborn son in his arms and promised himself that he would never allow another weak partner near him.

    *~*~*

    Ten years after Jian’s death, Prince Kastan had established Silver Shore as his permanent home, choosing to visit the Imperial Palace when it was necessary.  His reasons deeply tied to his ten-year-old son, Rashan.

    Silver Shore was a lush valley surrounded by rolling hills, green fields, wild forests and a stunning silver river that flowed through the valley heading to the ocean.  Under Prince Kastan’s care, the people living in the valley prospered, and Silver Shore became a coveted utopia.

    It was an unattainable utopia, as most of Silver Shore’s residents were family members of Prince Kastan’s core army.  These families turned Silver Shore into both fortress and paradise for those who were lucky to call it home.  These men and women who lived within the valley protected it with fierce devotion.  Until it had became prestigious to marry into a family living in Silver Shore, or to meet one who called Silver Shore home.

    Silver Shore residents treasured Kastan and affectionately called him Duke Silver, a nickname started by his best friend and right hand man, Temu.

    The people also spoiled Kastan’s son, Rashan, calling him Little Prince when he ran around in town with his nanny and guardian.  Kastan was grateful for the residents of Silver Shore as their devotion added a layer of protection for his most precious son.  No one would dare touch Rashan at Silver Shore.

    Kastan’s manor, which stood in the most secure part of the valley, was called Sun-filled Manor.  Kastan’s father had named it when he came to visit and discovered that the morning sun filled the halls without prejudice.  Kaveh Miran decided the name Sun-Filled suited the manor, and deemed it a perfect home for his grandson, Rashan.

    Kastan and his son called Sun-filled Manor home.  They lived with Kastan’s three loyal friends, Temu, Safan and Naveed.  There was also Rashan’s nanny, Fara, and Yasmin, the housekeeper who managed all of Sun-filled Manor.

    At the start of Rashan’s eleventh year, seven people stood in an open field that led to a cliff behind the manor releasing lanterns to the sky.

    Kastan watched his son carefully hold his lantern, and then send it up to the sky.  The higher it rose, the wider Rashan smiled.  When his son closed his eyes to make his wish, Kastan stepped closer to listen in.

    Rashan always spoke aloud on his wishes, hoping his father would hear them and help make them come true.

    This year was different.

    Kastan frowned when Rashan decided to murmur his wishes with a sense of fervor this year.

    “Please make my wish come true this year,” Rashan murmured.  “I’ve asked so many times already.  You have to fulfill it this year, please.”

    Kastan’s frowned deepened.  He was sure he had done his best to fulfill all of Rashan’s wishes the past year.  From giving him a black horse like his father’s, to redoing the east wing of Sun-Filled Manor to accommodate Rashan’s sword training, he had done it all.

    Why was this kid still making a desperate wish this year too?

    This wasn’t the first time he had heard this murmur, Kastan thought.  He remembered the same hushed tone when Rashan turned nine.  It disappeared when Rashan turned ten, but now it was back in his eleventh year.

    Curious, Kastan placed a gentle hand on Rashan’s right shoulder making his son look up at him.

    “Shan, is there something you want that you don’t have?” Kastan asked, sure that his son was not missing anything material.

    He worked hard to make sure that Rashan had everything he needed.

    Rashan bit his bottom lip, worrying it a bit, before he shook his head, no.

    Kastan lifted his right brow in question, and his heart squeezed when Rashan smiled at him.

    “Fara told me that this little wish of mine must be granted by a higher power.  Even if the people call you the god of war, my wish can only be heard by the god of fate,” Rashan said, dropping his hands to his sides.  “Fara said I must be pure in my wish for it to come true, otherwise he won’t hear my prayer.”

    Kastan glanced at Fara who was standing with Yasmin as they watched the lanterns float into the night sky.  This was a good start of the year, and he had promised them a bonus envelope to take to their families.  They looked happy.  He was glad for it as they took care of his most precious person. 

    Kastan wondered if Fara knew what Rashan’s wish was, his frown deepened when he remembered she liked to keep his son’s confidence.  Meaning, if Rashan wanted a secret kept, she was more than willing to help Rashan.  The only exception was if the secret was one that could harm Rashan, then she was the first to run to Kastan’s study.

    Since Fara had not told him this secret, it was not harmful to Rashan, but…

    “Rashan, remember what I’ve said before.  We must make our own way, our own path,” Kastan felt compelled to say.  “You must state what you want to get, and set your mind to getting it.  This is how the world works.  One must not leave anything to chance.”

    “Fara said that would be your answer,” Rashan said with a thoughtful nod.

    A few minutes passed in silence.  They both looked up at the sky watching the lanterns float away, lighting the dark night.  Then Rashan took Kastan’s left hand, his small hands wrapping around Kastan’s much larger one.

    “When I’m sure it can come true, I’ll tell you, Pa.”

    Kastan crouched low to his son’s height, and brought the hands holding his left one to his lips.

    “I’ll look forward to it, Shan,” Kastan said with a small grin, eager to discover what wish his son kept so close to his heart.  “Now, are you ready for the new year’s dinner?  Why don’t we go inside and discover what Yasmin’s made for dinner.”

    “She spent the whole day cooking,” Rashan said, excitement filling his cheeks with color.  He squeezed Kastan’s hand tight, before he rushed off to Yasmin’s side, declaring his hunger.

    Yasmin and Fara each took one of Rashan’s hands and started in the direction of the manor, their pace unhurried.  Kastan watched them, smiling as they talked about the colorful moon cakes Fara made, roasted chicken, lotus root soup, the list seemed endless.

    Kastan straightened to his full height when the trio entered the kitchen using the back door.  He turned to look up at the lanterns, which had travelled a distance away.  He was conscious of the three men he trusted with his life moving to stand on each side of him.

    “Your Grace,” Temu spoke first, standing on Kastan’s right.  “When will you respond to the summons from Emperor Kiyan?”

    “After the new year’s celebrations end,” Kastan answered with a heavy sigh.  He folded his hands behind his back, dragging his gaze away from his son’s lantern to the rest of the valley sprawled before him.

    The night filled with lanterns released by hopeful souls living in Silver Shore.  The streets were alight, celebrations taking over the main square in town.  The sound of joyful music echoed in the air.  His people were happy and in peace.

    Kastan hated to break the spell with foreboding.

    “None of them will fault you,” Naveed said from Kastan’s left, answering his thoughts.  “We are all content with the path we’ve chosen.  Silver Shore has enjoyed five years of peace because of your staunch support, Your Grace.  The Akasha Empire is our home too.  We shall fight with you to guard what we’ve all built together these last five years.”

    Kastan looked at Naveed’s profile.

    Naveed was the most sentimental one of the three while Darian was more quick to anger and action.

    “War is not confirmed, yet,” Kastan reminded Temu and Naveed.

    He wasn’t ready to think of war just yet.

    “I’m only answering summons from my Emperor Brother.  He could be asking for a peacekeeping tour.  The problems at West Nation’s border are all solvable with a competent diplomat.”

    “The palace is full of conspiring politicians,” Safan said, the third and most important man in the trio said.  “A summons reaching Silver Shore means one of those old men has aggravated relations at the west border and forced the Emperor and Tanad Kingdom into a tight corner.  Whether it is peacekeeping or war, you’ll need to be cautious, Your Grace.”

    “You are all right,” Kastan said, after a minute of thought.

    His oldest brother tried to keep direct summons to a minimum.  Kastan appreciated that as it meant that he managed all armies at will.  Every turn of the moon, Kastan made an appearance at the palace where he met his brother, and discussed any pressing problems in the different provinces.  They managed an amiable working relationship.

    Summons were scattered, Kastan disliked them as they meant an extended stay at the palace.  He did not like the idea of leaving Rashan alone at Silver Shore.  Worse, he never wanted to entertain the idea of Rashan moving into the palace.  That thought made him shudder.

    “Whatever the order, the outcome cannot change,” Kastan murmured.  “Silver Shore stays intact and protected.”

    “Yes, Your Grace,” they all agreed.

    Kastan smiled this time, his lips curving wider.  He was glad that he never had to worry about these three.  They made the mess in the palace easier to face.

    “Duke Silver,” Temu said, his tone teasing.  “I have a serious craving for Yasmin’s roasted chicken.  The lanterns won’t return now.  We’ve set them free; they’ll land where they will.  Why don’t we head back to the house to eat?”

    Kastan had yet to thank Temu for the interesting nickname that had spread through the valley like wildfire.

    “Who has stopped you from racing to the kitchen?” Kastan asked.

    “Duke Silver no one dares eat while you’re standing out here staring at the sky with that mournful look,” Naveed said.

    Safan moved around Naveed and came to wrap an arm around Safan’s shoulders.  He was a hulk of a man, with bulging muscles gained from his love of using a hammer and axe in battle and in the homestead.

    Safan turned Kastan around with a simple squeeze and led Kastan toward the house, launching into a tale about Rashan breaking into the chicken coop earlier in the afternoon.

    Kastan loved listening to Safan’s tales about Rashan.  He loved it more that Safan managed to dispel the anxiety growing from their coming uncertain future.  His message clear: enjoy the quiet and peace for now.

    ~*~*~*~

    Three days after the New Year’s celebrations ended, Kastan rode his black warhorse into the capital, wearing his colors.  His silver coat decorated with embroidery to fit his station and a blood red cape cascading down his back with a black tiger crest right in the middle.  It was the symbol of his army.

    Temu and Naveed followed Kastan close, the thundering hooves of three black warhorses cleared the road faster than any shout from the street officers.  People moved to the side when they saw them racing down the streets of the Imperial City Akan.

    Kastan paid them no mind, and did not slow down until he saw the large black gates of the Akan palace ahead.  Slowing down the pace of his horse, he watched the gates slowly start to open; the soldiers guarding the gates all formed a neat line on each side of the palace gates, their black uniform with gold embroidery matching.  They saluted Kastan as he rode through the open gates into the Akasha Imperial Palace.

    Kastan led his horse to the foot of the series of stairs that led to the front doors of the palace’s greeting hall.  A man’s luck depended on what he found at the top of the stairs.  It could be a cool reception, a warm greeting, or nothing, at the extreme one found death at the end of a sword.

    Kastan walked up the stairs with a sense of nostalgia.  He grew up in this palace, running up these steps with his sister and brother.  As he turned ten, his interests turned to the extensive training grounds beyond the main palace where learned to wield a sword the right way.

    His training master insisted he learn how to use all weapons in the palace’s arsenal.  The challenge was welcome and with it, his thirst for adventure.  The solid walls around the palace started to feel stifling, and he longed for a life outside the Imperial City.  Everything he had done since he turned twenty and married Jian was to gain independence to live outside the palace.  He dared not imagine the idea of returning into this opulent cold palace.  Silver Shore was far more comfortable compared to this place.

    “We have a reception,” Naveed murmured, his instinct for danger alive and at work.  “I count five people.”

    Kastan nodded and finished the last set of stairs, his senses alert.  Standing ten steps away was his brother, Kiyan, and his sister, Kyra: an Emperor and a Queen.  Behind them were two of Kiyan’s aides and Kyra’s shadow guard, Sanin.

    Kastan did not slow his steps, but Naveed and Temu did, stopping right by the stairs. 

    “Kas,” Kyra said, racing to him without a care for decorum.

    Kastan braced himself as she launched herself into his arms.  He lifted her up and turned around on the spot, pleased to see her so well.  He missed her dearly.

    “Kyra,” Kastan kissed her cheek when he set her on her feet.

    She was beautiful in a moss green silk dress cinched at her waist with a wide gold belt, with long sleeves and its long skirts sweeping the floor.  Her long dark hair fell down her back to her waist, with intricate gold leaves keeping it in check.  She looked every bit a queen.

    “You grow more beautiful with time.”

    “I would say the same, Kas,” Kyra said, reaching up with her left hand to caress his right eyebrow and the scar there.  “This still makes you look dashing.  How many hearts have you broken since I last saw you?”

    “None,” Kastan said.

    “That can only mean countless,” Kyra said with a laugh, as she took his right hand, and led him to their Emperor brother.  “Kiyan, why do you restrain yourself when you’re as glad to see Kas as I am?”

    “He is commander of armies, not to be jumped on at will,” Kiyan said when they reached him.

    Still, Kiyan stepped closer and pulled Kastan into a tight hug.  Kastan held his brother, relieved his siblings were in good spirits.

    Kiyan let him go, reaching out to arrange Kastan’s red cape with a small smile.  He looked around Kastan, taking in Naveed and Temu who bowed in greeting, still his gaze remained searching.

    “Rashan?” Kiyan asked after a minute.

    “With Safan at Silver Shore,” Kastan answered, noting the quick wave of disappointment that flashed over both Kyra and Kiyan’s gazes.  “We needed to ride fast.  The journey would have been taxing for him.”

    “I miss him,” Kyra complained.  “I last saw him when he turned ten.  It was his birthday a few days ago.  I wanted to give him a gift.”

    “You’re welcome to Silver Shore at any time.  You could send the gifts to him too,” Kastan said.  “You must visit Silver Shore before you return to Tanad, Kyra.”

    “What about me?” Kiyan asked.  “Must I leave the palace to visit my nephew too?”

    Kastan sighed.  His Emperor was unhappy about his choice to keep Rashan away from palace life.  That much was obvious.  Still, Rashan adored both Kiyan and Kyra. 

    “I will make arrangements for him to make a short visit soon,” Kastan said, though he sounded reluctant even to his ears.

    Kyra glanced at Kiyan, before she tucked her hand in the crook of Kastan’s left arm.

    “Come in, Kastan,” Kyra suggested.  “I made sure there was plenty of food and drink ready for when you arrived.  Your men can follow us and we’ll get them settled for the night.”

    Kastan turned and nodded to Naveed and Temu who followed them.

    “Thank you for answering my summons so soon,” Kiyan said as they went down a long hallway.  “I imagined you might be delayed for a week or so.”

    “I always come when you ask,” Kastan reminded his brother.

    “You’re the only one I can count on,” Kiyan said, his tone enough to make Kastan pause. 

    Kiyan was the most powerful man in the empire.  He should fear nothing, especially with Kastan by his side.  Still, an Emperor had more worries keeping him awake.

    “Kastan, can you trust me with Rashan?  It’s dangerous to leave him alone at Silver Shore.”

    Kyra squeezed Kastan’s arm, and he caught her censoring gaze when he looked at her.  She wanted him to take it easy with Kiyan.

    “Your Majesty’s offer is hard to ignore,” Kastan said.  “I’m afraid I would have to wait to give you an answer.  Your servant is weak when it comes to his son.  I can’t force him to do anything.”

    “Aren’t you being too nice a parent?” Kiyan asked, leading the way into an elegant greeting room with tables laden with food and drink.

    “I still have a lot to learn,” Kastan answered, noting that the servants moved in silent coordination leaving the room and closing the doors tight.  “Is the Empress not joining us?”

    “She is occupied with our sons,” Kiyan said, indicating for them to take seats at the largest dining table.  “Besides, what I want to discuss concerns the empire.”

    Kyra sat directly across him on Kiyan’s right, while Kastan and his men took the left side. Kastan waited for Temu and Naveed to settle beside him before he pulled out his chair and sat. 

    Kyra and Kiyan allowed Kastan and his men to eat and drink in silence for a few minutes.

    Kiyan was the one to break the silence first.

    “Kastan,” Kiyan said, making Kastan look.

    Kiyan watched him with a somber gaze.  Guilt bloomed in his gaze and Kastan looked away, sipping his wine, unable to take that guilt.

    “West Nation has become a problem,” Kastan said, bringing up the topic on his brother’s behalf.  “All your attempts at negotiation must have failed.”

    “So you already understand the situation,” Kiyan said with a heavy sigh.  “West Nation is matching on our border.  All attempts at reaching an amiable agreement have dissolved.  They sent me the head of the last envoy I sent to them.  All because they want the iron mines at Mount Kin.”

    Mount Kin spanned the length of Akasha’s west border with West Nation.  The mountain was in Akasha land, and the people living at the foot of the mountain were skilled metal forgers.  They mined iron from the mountain caves and were a huge source of income for the land.  The Emperor would need to respond with force on any aggressive move against Mount Kin.

    Kastan met his brother’s gaze.

    “Say it,” Kastan said giving his brother an assuring nod.

    “Are you sure you will not send Rashan to stay with us in the palace?” Kiyan asked instead.  “He is important to us, as much as he is to you, Kas.”

    “Rashan is happiest at Silver Shore,” Kastan said, noting the flash of disappointment in his brother’s gaze.

    “Then, Commander,” Kiyan said, his tone hard.  “Akasha is at war with West Nation.  I’m leaving the west border to you.”

    Kastan placed his goblet on the table and gave his brother a single nod in answer.  He knew his brother would repeat this same order before the royal court tomorrow morning.

    Kastan turned to Naveed and Temu.  He gave them a short nod and they both got up from the table, excusing themselves.  They headed out to start discrete preparations.

    “This war is on two fronts,” Kiyan said, lowering his voice once Kastan’s men left the room.  “One shall be fought at court, dealing with the Minister of Trade and the Empress’s father, the other by you, at the border.”

    “I have pledged my Queen’s Army to you,” Kyra said, her gaze on Kastan.  “You’ll need all the support you can get.”

    Kastan pushed his food away, and concentrated on understanding the plot at court that had lead them to war.

    *~*~*~*

    Prologue

  • The Morgan Lore – 8

    New Year’s Blessings in a Syringe

    “Are you still angry with me?” Kiyo asked, his gaze on the machines on a stand beside the lounge chair Milan was using.

    Milan stared at the IV line going into the back of his left hand, his heavy black sweater pulled back to make sure it didn’t interfere, and let out a soft sigh.

    “I don’t know why I couldn’t have done this tomorrow. I really wanted to go to the party with Mamma. It would have been nice to meet everyone before I went to school. Don’t you think it’s unfair?”

    “You have school tomorrow and your health comes first,” Kiyo insisted, satisfied with the numbers he was reading. He perched on a stool and took Milan’s free hand. “I know you hate shots every other day. So, I’ve worked to make this process easier for you. If we complete this therapy today, we won’t need to do it again for four weeks.”

    Milan dropped his gaze to where his father held his hand.

    “Papa, are you happier here?” Milan asked.

    “I’m more productive here,” Kiyo said, after a moment of silence. He reached out to raise Milan’s face to him. Milan met brown eyes similar to his. “Are you not happy?”

    “It’s cold all the time. I can’t go out like in Turin. I don’t know if I’ll like any of the people here. Can’t we go back home?” Milan asked.

    He could only complain to Kiyo, seeing as he knew Ilaria and Ayu were also adjusting to a new life here. They were trying their best to make him comfortable.

    “Cucciolo, this is our new home,” Kiyo said, stroking Milan’s cheek. “I signed a contract to stay here for three years.”

    “Three—”

    Milan broke off upset, though he didn’t understand why. Then it clicked in a wave. He felt lonely here. The task of facing new people seemed too big, too exhausting. He missed Turin’s old world charm, and warmth. The neighbors who knew him by name, and dropped by to see him on days he had to stay in like today.

    “I might find a cure for you here,” Kiyo said, his excitement tangible.

    “I’m not curable,” Milan scoffed, shaking his head. “I have a chronic condition, Papa. One I need to manage for life. You know the science of it better than me. There is no cure.”

    Kiyo squeezed Milan’s fingers and let go, folding his arms against his chest.

    “You’re upset, Milan. You were excited to go today, and I came in with this, I know. You want to take it out on me, that’s fine. I can take all your anger, but don’t ever lose hope on me.”

    Milan closed his eyes, the headache that came with these infusions already starting.

    “How do you feel?” Kiyo asked, getting up to press his palm on Milan’s forehead.

    “The usual,” Milan said, wanting to curl into a ball on the comfortable lounge chair. “How much longer?”

    “Thirty minutes,” Kiyo said. “The pain meds I gave you before we started should help with the headache. I’ll slow the drips down though, and turn on the humidifier.”

    Kiyo looked around the room with a frown.

    “Damn it, I left the humidifier in my lab after configuring it. I’ll go get it. Will you be okay alone? I can send Marie to stay with you.”

    “I’ll be fine,” Milan murmured, shifting on the lounge chair to stare out the wide windows to the gazebo.

    “Okay, I’ll be right back.” Kiyo kissed Milan’s forehead, pushing back strands of damp hair from Milan’s forehead with a gentle caress. “Don’t go anywhere.”

    Milan chuckled watching his father hurry out. His gaze returned to the infusion pump and the IV line going into the back of his left hand. The time counter read thirty-six minutes remaining, he let out a sigh.

    “Siri, turn on TV,” he said, smiling when the screen on the opposite wall came on. “Let’s watch Black Butler on Crunchyroll.”

    Milan was lost in Sebastian and Ciel when Marie came hurrying into the lounge holding a pie dish. She looked flustered, which was rare, Milan sat up with a frown.

    “You have a visitor.”

    “Me?”

    “Yep,” Marie held up the pie pan. “I would give you this, but your father would have my head. I’ll force your visitor to wear a mask as he comes in. He says he won’t leave and must see you with his own eyes.”

    “How strange,” Milan said.

    “He says he saw your pretty face at the grocery store yesterday,” Marie chuckled. “It must be amore a prima vista.” Love at first sight.

    “Marie!” Milan gaped at her as she hurried away laughing.

    Milan sat on the lounge chair waiting.

    A minute later, Rory Morgan appeared at the lounge door, the white mask on his face looking out of place. He looked…vibrant with energy.

    “Hi,” Rory said, lifting his hand in greeting, not moving from the entrance.

    Milan pulled his sweater down to cover the IV line going into his hand.

    “Hi,” Milan said, staring.

    Rory looked good in a white t-shirt and jeans, his hair dark wild on his head. He wore no sweater, as though the cold weather did not bother him.

    Rory reached up and adjusted the mask over his nose and mouth.

    “How are you?” Rory asked, his blue gaze intense.

    Milan blinked, fighting the urge to scream. This was not how he would have wanted to meet Rory Morgan again.

    “I’m fine. My family is paranoid about keeping the house sterile,” Milan said. “I’m sorry you have to wear that. It’s because Marie doesn’t know you.”

    To be truthful, Milan didn’t know Rory either, other than meeting him in a grocery store, and Rory finding sparkling wine bottles for him.

    “Uh, please come in.” Milan waved his free hand to the chair next to the one he was using. “I’m sorry I can’t get up to greet you.”

    Rory nodded and walked into the room, his steps deliberately slow as he closed the distance between them. When Rory sat down, Milan took in a deep breath hoping to ease his racing heart.

    Milan adjusted his sweater over the IV line again. His right hand in a fist, as he settled back on the lounge chair. He cleared his throat, reaching for the remote on the table to lower the volume on the television.

    “H-how come you’re here?” Milan asked, meeting Rory’s gaze.

    “I missed you at the party in town,” Rory said. “You promised to be there.”

    “I couldn’t make it.”

    “So, I came to find you.”

    Milan stared at Rory, amused. He had never met anyone so pushy in his life.

    “My parents don’t like strangers in the house.” Milan felt compelled to point out. “Papa is out for a few minutes, when he comes back, he might drag you out by the ear.”

    Rory chuckled.

    “Are you trying to scare me away?”

    “Is it working?”

    “No.”

    Milan smiled, oddly happy. His smile slipping when Rory moved, leaning over him to take his left hand. He frowned when Rory squeezed his hand gently, before folding the sweater’s sleeve back, exposing the white tape holding the needle in place.

    “You don’t have to hide this from me,” Rory said, his touch gentle as he smoothed the sweater’s sleeve after folding it. “It’s to keep you healthy, right?”

    Milan looked up from where Rory held his hand, to find startling blue eyes studying him.

    “I could be contagious,” Milan said, then.

    “I don’t get sick easily,” Rory answered. “Besides, I know you’re not contagious. Your family would be sick too.”

    “You have an answer for everything.”

    “I try to be on my toes,” Rory said. He settled back in his chair, his gaze never leaving Milan. “If I asked why you’re sick, would you tell me?”

    Milan bit his lip, the question common enough. He had answered it almost all his life.

    “If I asked you to pretend I was not sick, would you?” Milan asked, instead of giving the usual CVID explanation his mother had helped him memorize.

    “If that’s what you want,” Rory said with a nod, settling back in his chair, and turning his gaze to the television. “What are you watching?”

    “Anime. Do you watch?”

    “I don’t watch television. I do know loads of my cousins have kids who love watching a show called Boruto. Though, I couldn’t tell you what it’s about.”

    Milan imagined a guy like Rory spent a lot of time outside. He imagined Rory hiking, playing football, or swimming. Milan smoothed his fingers over his folded sleeve, touching the tape on his skin. He, on the other hand, could never play sports. So, he watched Ayu play, and cheered for him during his soccer matches.

    “What are you thinking?” Rory asked, drawing his attention back to the present.

    “Oh, nothing important. You seem like an outdoors kind of guy.”

    “I can stay in too,” Rory said. “Watch anime with you if you want it.”

    “That’s sweet of you,” Milan chuckled. “But you don’t have to.”

    Milan checked the time left on the infusion pump, and was surprised to find five minutes had passed.

    “So, did you pop the fizzy wine bottles at midnight?” Rory asked.

    “Si,” Milan said, smiling hard. “Papa and my big brother, Ayu, ran around the backyard spraying it on the ground, ushering in 2018. They got Mamma, and she was all wet, screaming like a banshee because it got in her hair.”

    “What about you?” Rory asked. “Did they get you?”

    “A little,” Milan said, remembering Ayu pouring a glass of the sparkling wine and handing it to him for a sip. “They were careful not to spill on me.”

    Rory fell silent and Milan looked up to find Rory studying him.

    “What?”

    Rory shook his head and looked around the lounge instead.

    “Your house is nice, great view of the forest from here,” Rory noted.

    “I love it best,” Milan said, pointing at the windows showing off the gazebo. “The other day, Ayu took me out to the gazebo and we were just hanging out.Then I saw a white wolf coming from the trees.”

    “Were you afraid?” Rory asked.

    “I was terrified,” Milan said, thinking of that moment, staring at the large white wolf standing at the forest’s edge. His heart racing a mile a minute, thinking himself prey for a stronger, wilder animal.

    “At the same time, it felt thrilling seeing such a wild animal so close. There was something majestic about it. You’re from around here. Tell me, is there a pack of wolves living in the forest? Or could it have been a lone wolf passing by?”

    “There have been a few sightings,” Rory answered, his gaze sliding away from Milan as he spoke. “Lone wolves are rare in this parts. If you ever meet one, run for safety.”

    “Doesn’t that trigger the wolf’s need to chase prey?”

    “It does, but if you run into a populated area, the wolf is less likely to follow you.”

    “That’s useful to know,” Milan noted. “Are you a Portento native?”

    “Yes.”

    “So, you were born here?”

    “My whole family is from here,” Rory said.

    “That’s kind of cool. You have deep roots.”

    “What about you?” Rory asked. “Where are you from?”

    “Um.”

    Milan always thought this question a trial. He was Japanese and Italian by blood. Yet, Japan was not his true home, neither was Italy. His parents rarely visited their childhood homes, preferring the whirlwind of travel they often lived. So, he couldn’t lay claim to either country. Meeting Rory’s curious gaze, he smiled.

    “We just moved from Turin, Italy. We stayed there three years, but before that, there was Brussels, before that Prague, before that, Vienna. I was born in Bern. We’ve lived in so many cities. I can only say I’m from a lot of places.”

    “I think that’s kind of cool,” Rory said.

    “Really?”

    “Yeah, you’ve gotten to see different cultures, meet different people, and learn different languages.”

    Milan smiled. “Interesting way to look at it.”

    “I think it makes you unique, Milan.”

    “Unique in a nice way, or in a weird new kid way?”

    “In a very attractive way,” Rory answered, making Milan blush.

    Rory reached for a small towel on the side table between their chairs. He stood up and came to perch on the edge of Milan’s chair. Pressing the towel on Milan’s forehead, he wiped off sweat, the cloth cool against Milan’s skin.

    Milan bit his bottom lip, holding still, conscious of Rory sitting so close to him. His heart raced as Rory worked on wiping off sweat from his forehead.Fingers tight in fists, Milan closed his eyes afraid his heart was going to jump out of his chest.

    “Are you feeling alright?” Rory asked after a minute.

    Milan looked up to find Rory studying him.

    “Just fine,” Milan managed, forcing his fingers to uncurl, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He didn’t understand why his heart kept speeding up when he got close to Rory Morgan.

    Rory folded the cloth and placed it on the table, though he did not move from Milan’s chair.

    “How long does this take?” Rory asked, pointing to the IV line.

    Milan glanced at the machine. “I have twenty -five minutes left.”

    “Then?”

    Milan smiled.

    “Then, I’ll be ready to go to school tomorrow. Do you go to Ashland High?”

    “Yes. I’m in my senior year,” Rory said. “You?”

    “Eleventh grade. I’m glad I’ll at least know one person now. First day of school is hardest when you don’t know anyone. Before, I would have my big brother, Ayu, but he’s going to college now.”

    “You can hang out with me at school,” Rory said.

    Milan smiled.

    “That would be nice. Just to warn you, I have to wear that mask you’re wearing at school, and gloves. I’ll look like the new freak of the school, and will not add cool points to you.”

    “Anyone who thinks you’re a freak will be at a loss,” Rory said, taking Milan’s right hand and turning it over to study Milan’s palm. “Your hands are really soft, except for the callus on your middle finger. Why is it there?”

    Warmth seeped into Milan’s skin where Rory held his hand, it felt as though he was getting an infusion of heat from Rory’s very warm hands. The feel of it sent thrills through Milan, it took him a moment to answer Rory.

    “I draw a lot,” Milan answered, when Rory lifted a brow in question. “Before I got a drawing tablet with a stylus, it was all on paper, and I was using pencils. I tend to grip them pretty hard, so the callus formed. Papa bought the tablet to stop the it.”

    “Does it hurt?” Rory asked, rubbing his thumb over the fading bump on Milan’s finger.

    “Not anymore,” Milan said, trying to pull his hand out from Rory’s maddening touch. He didn’t succeed. Rory tightened his hold, keeping his right hand prisoner.

    “You still haven’t told me why you came today,” Milan prompted, watching Rory study his palm as though he had a quiz later.

    “I told you, Milan,” Rory looked up then, meeting Milan’s gaze. “I really came to see you.”

    “Why?”

    Rory’s eyes shone with amusement, sending Milan’s heart into another wild riot.

    “Why not?” he asked, and Milan didn’t really have an answer to that, as he had wished for someone to visit him minutes before Rory walked in.

    ***

    tml

  • Crown Prince Yoshi – 12

    “Have you found Midori?” Namik’s sharp gaze rested on his steward.  “I want him here.”

    “My lord, General Midori was last spotted on the borders of Earith fighting against our forces,” Rocke said.  “All attempts to reach him have failed.”

    “You mean his inner circle has killed your messengers,” Namik said, his tone amused.  “Looks like I trained him well.  However, I must have left out vital lessons for him to defy me this way.  No matter, once we have taken the palace and Prince Saki crowned, Midori will find his way back.”

    Rocke stared at Namik’s feet, clearly ready to say more.

    “What?”

    “Sire,” Rocke said, his tone wary.  “They say General Midori protects the Prince Yoshi.”

    “Protects?”

    Namik stared at Rocke, anger rising.  It angered him that his men had missed assassinating Prince Yoshi, not once but three times now.  He’d heard of the incident in a village and dark rider spiriting the young prince into the forest.  The dark rider had to be his son.

    “Leave,” Namik said.

    Rocke nodded and hurried out of the tent.

    Namik grabbed the goblet of wine on his table and drank deep.  Shaking his head in disappointment, he slammed the goblet on the table.

    “Your anger will be your undoing.”

    Namik turned to find Prince Tailen had come in to the tent.  He scowled and gave the man a small bow.

    “What brings you here, Your Highness?” Namik asked.  “You should be in the palace helping the Empress mourn her son.”

    “Don’t mock me,” Prince Tailen growled moving to sit at the head of the table.  “We both know an impostor lies in the casket.  Almira is not as devastated as she should be, I suspect she knows the truth too.”

    “Your hold on her is weak,” Namik said.

    “She’s not easy,” Prince Tailen scoffed.  “Vulan trained her.  A man who subdued the Sand Queen.  What do you expect?”

    “If Saki is going to rule, you need to take more risks.”

    Namik worked to hide his disgust.  Prince Tailen was sly and thrifty, strong he was not, and the idea of serving him for longer than he had to disgusted him.  Still, if this was the only way to wrest power from the Taimeng House, then he would work with what he had.  Once Almira was out of the way, he would kill Tailen, leaving Saki open to his ideals.

    “The Imperial army will surround the palace,” Namik continued.  “The Fier Army will patrol the streets of Lexin City and guard all entry gates.  That should give you enough time with the Imperial Diet.  They will insist on following the laws of succession.  Without Yoshi, you have an easy task.”

    Prince Tailen glanced at him.

    “What of the Quad Council.  The Council works along the Diet, Namik.  The Diet might control the structure of the royal family, but the Council determines how the Empire treats a monarch.”

    “Don’t worry about the Quad council.  Both the ministers of defense and rites are from Fier.  They will convince the others to follow if they hope to survive this.”

    “What of Terra?

    Namik chose a seat then.  He stared at the map on the table.  He didn’t want to tangle with Terra or Lilind, the Queen of Sands.  He knew Almira had sent a messenger to Terra.  As long as the messenger didn’t make it, Terra would not make a move.  As for Dwind, they never bothered with Quad politics.  Piper Klud spent too much time worrying about her people, and Lilind considered Quad politics petty since her tangle with Emperor Vulan.  If he managed to wrest control before they got involved, Terra would bow to the new authority, and Dwind would shrug the change away.

    “Control Almira and we have Terra,” Namik said.

    “Yes, Almira has a strange love for Terra because of her husband,” Prince Tailen said, giving him a small wicked smile.  “The Empire mourns Yoshi’s death, his funeral is underway.  A successor must be named, and the Imperial Diet must meet to attend the task.  Almira will fight to delay that summit, but with your army at her gates, she has no choice left.”

    “This will only work if you’re committed, Prince Tailen,” Namik warned, he’d risked everything.

    Prince Tailen held his gaze.

    “I’ve waited my whole life, Namik of Fier.  No one is more committed to this than me.”

    Namik stood.

    “Then, I will lead the army into Lexin city tomorrow morning.”

    ***

    Lexin City

    Warning drums wrenched peace from the city.  Weeks worth of tension broke into chaos.  Almira stood in an alley and watched her people run on the streets in fear.  Screams of fear, angry voices, frantic men and women carrying their belongings.

    Her talk with Teng Heim had lasted all night.  On her way to the palace, the warning drums at the main Lexin City gates started.

    Now, women clung to their children as they ran to the safety of their homes.  The rumble of mammoth gates closing told her she still had loyal servants within the palace.

    She had been fifteen the last time the warning drums rang.  Her father was Emperor.  Lilind of Dwind had started the war then.  Lilind led an uprising against Emperor Vulan Taimeng.  Almira had watched her father face the Sand Queen, and come out the victor.  Emperor Vulan insisted on one-on-one combat.  Forcing Lilind to face him in the city square.  Almira watched her father fight the terrifying Lilind, heart in her throat as Vulan was wounded many times.  Thirty minutes of fast battle, and Vulan had defeated the Sand Queen, holding her down on the ground with the sword Yoshi now carried.

    Almira had asked her father why he hadn’t killed Lilind later that day.

    ‘Lilind is one of our subjects, Almira,’ Vulan said.  ‘She is vital to the well-being of the Empire.  It is better to compromise with her.’

    Almira sighed now watching a small boy fall, screaming as people ran around him in panic.  What was she to do with Namik now?  Was she to compromise with him when he had dared murder her only child for power?

    She clenched her fists.

    Such wisdom was beyond her.

    “Save the boy.”

    Ara, her guard, rushed into the chaos and returned back carrying the boy.

    Almira adjusted the scarf over her head, hiding her face.  She took the boy from Ara knowing her guard would need her arms free to defend them.  Ara led the way down a dark alley heading back to the palace.

    Almira held the panicked boy in her arms.  Tears slid down the boy’s cheeks even as she held him.  Fear in his eyes.  Almira vowed then to squash Namik and Tailen for good.

    ***

    Zia Sayu pressed against the high wall keeping her from entering Terra, and prayed for strength.  Two days, and she had yet to find a way in.  Terra’s defenses were solid.  Her two assassins dogged her every step.  She was tired and thirsty, her supplies long gone.

    A rock dislodged to her left and she held her breath.  The dagger in her right hand held tight.  She stood still, waiting.  Letting the assassin come to her.  She would have the advantage of surprise.  She would not die here.  She had a duty to her Empress and the Phoenix.  Her grip on the dagger tightened, and her muscles tensed in preparation.

    A shadow appeared on the edge of the wall, and she stopped short when a white cat emerged.  It meowed in irritation and continued on.  Zia smiled, amused, and then followed the cat.

    ***

    Yoshi held Senbon’s reins turning him around in a circle, his gaze on the luscious green grass growing in a wide field behind the Furian Palace.  Vibrant flowers on trees surrounded them, thick vines dropping from tall branches created a wall around the field.  So utterly untouched and wild: beautiful, nature forged.

    “Can you win?” Midori challenged behind him, and Yoshi jerked his gaze to his lover.

    His breath hitched at the sight of Midori atop his black stallion, Midnight.  His Fier General was too handsome for words.  Midori smiled at him and Yoshi urged Senbon to catch up with Midnight.  They raced: fast and reckless.  Senbon was swift, but Midnight was strong and he kept up.  Yoshi laughed when they raced head to head, exhilaration in every gallop.  He slowed down Senbon and was pleased when Midori followed suit with Midnight.  They ended up on the edge of the clearing away from the palace and prying eyes.  Midori reached for his reins and moving his horse close, until they could lean close for a kiss.

    “Did I win?” Yoshi asked, meeting Midori’s gaze, his gaze dropping to Midori’s lips.

    Senbon shifted, and Yoshi sighed when a small distance grew between them.

    “You always win,” Midori said.  “At least in my heart.”

    Yoshi smiled.

    “Your words are as beautiful as this field the Iron Furian Princess has nurtured.  Who do you think she comes here with?”

    “Telia,” Midori said with a knowing smile.

    “No way,” Yoshi gaped.  “Are you serious?”

    “When am I never serious?” Midori asked.  “We should go back.  The head of your Black Guard will get antsy.”

    Yoshi sighed.

    “Yes, you are right.  I need to leave for Dwind.  Namik has reached Lexin City by now.”

    “Yes,” Midori agreed.

    “Can I convince you to lead the allied army while Sando, Telia and I head to Dwind?”

    “No.”

    “Midori.”

    “You asked me to stay by your side.  Don’t send me away, Yoshi.”

    Yoshi nodded, a frown dancing on his forehead.  He too didn’t want the separation.  Midori made his duties bearable, kept him focused.  Alone, the responsibilities swamped and paranoia set in.  There were too many who wanted him dead, and equally too many who wanted his support.  Midori helped him cut through it all for a moment of respite.

    “The Princess Naria will lead the allied forces to Lexin City,” Midori suggested.  “She doesn’t need to engage my father, she only needs to show unity until you can return with Terra and Dwind at your back.”

    “Do you think I’m strong enough to convince Lilind of the Sands to follow me?”

    “The Emperor Vulan was your grandfather,” Midori said.  “You are of his blood line, Yoshi.”

    Yoshi started to turn to Midori, and paused when he caught a shadow in the woods.  Meeting Midori’s gaze, he reached for Senbon’s reins.

    “My grandfather’s stories are intimidating.”

    Yoshi shifted on Senbon, ready to act.  Midori noting his stance, brought his right hand to the hilt of his sword.

    “Do you think my stories will be intimidating to the future too?”

    Midori smiled.

    “Of course, Yoshi.”

    The shadow shifted, running at them, Yoshi caught the glint of a sword and jumped off Senbon faster than Midori.  He swung his sword, meeting the intruder’s attack with a strong swing of his sword sending the intruder staggering back.  Before he could engage him again, Tai Migi appeared and took over the fight.  In mere seconds, their would-be attacker was pinned to the ground, a dagger in his shoulder, and Tai Migi crouched over him.

    “Who sent you?” Tai asked, his tone laced with cold anger.

    When no answer was forthcoming, Tai twisted the dagger in the attacker’s shoulder drawing a sharp scream.

    “N—Namik of Fier,” the man cried.  “I—I’m o—only a messenger, sent to Lord General Midori.”

    Yoshi froze, his gaze going to Midori.

    “What is your message?” Tai demanded of the messenger.

    “I—

    “State your message,” Midori roared.

    “You belong beside your father,” the messenger said.  “Lord Namik looks forward to having you at the table.”

    Midori stepped back and Tai Migi sunk a second dagger into the intruder, killing him.

    “Why did you do that?” Yoshi demanded.  “We could have gotten more answers—

    “You are too close to General Midori.  A messenger sent to him by Namik will cause unrest in a budding alliance,” Tai answered.  “It is best for all of us if no one knew this man made it this close.”

    “My father will have sent more than one,” Midori said, his tone low.

    “I’m well aware,” Tai answered, getting to his feet.  He kept his gaze on Yoshi as he spoke.  “Your Royal Highness, must you keep the General by your side?”

    Yoshi held Tai’s gaze.

    “Yes.”

    Tai stood watching him for a moment longer, then nodded, giving him a small bow.

    “As you wish,” Tai said.  “The Black Guard will hunt down any lingering messengers.”

    “This was to be a private hour,” Yoshi commented, looking into the surrounding trees, half expecting the head of the Black Guard to appear.  “Who else watches?”

    “There’s only me,” Tai said.  “You’ll never be alone, Prince Yoshi.  However, when it’s only me, you are alone.”

    Yoshi knew then his world was changing slowly.  Soon, more than Tai would know what he ate for breakfast, who he kissed, when he kissed…

    Midori touched his shoulder.

    “The body—

    “I will deal with this,” Tai said, his gaze on Midori’s hand where he touched Yoshi.

    Yoshi knew what bothered Tai, but made no move to remove Midori’s hand.  He would hold on to this one happiness.

    “When you are finished, start prepping for the journey to Dwind,” Yoshi said, turning to Midori.  “I must meet the Princess Naria before I leave.”

    “Yes, Your Royal Highness,” Tai gave him a short bow.  “I will report to you when I’m done.”

    Yoshi swung onto Senbon and urged the stallion into a hard run, needing to escape.

    ***

    “You will hurt him,” Tai said, when Midori moved to mount his own horse.

    “What?” Midori stopped looking at the man who unsettled him.

    Dressed in black, his face covered but for his eyes, Tai Migi was dangerous.  Midori didn’t need to see him fight to know it.

    “The longer you stay by his side in this capacity, you will bring him harm.”  Tai’s gaze narrowed.  “When that time comes, I will be the one to remove you.”

    “You threaten me?” Midori asked, gripping the reins tight.

    “I don’t need to,” Tai answered.  “The Empress, however, she protects what she must.  This warning is the only courtesy I will extend.  Midori of Fier, if nothing else, know that the Empire comes first for that one you cling to.”

    Tai returned to the dead man on the ground, leaving Midori to stare at him.

    Midori mounted Midnight fast, and urged the stallion after Yoshi.  He did not need Tai’s advice.  He knew very well who Yoshi was, what loving him entailed.  Still…

    Yoshi slowed Senbon down, allowing him to catch up.  One glance at his handsome Prince and the doubt receded.  Yoshi smiled at him and that was enough to send Tai’s warning away.  He didn’t care what the future had in store for them.  As long as right now, Yoshi kept smiling at him.

    “Race you to the stables,” Midori challenged.

    Yoshi grinned and they set off in a fast race, Yoshi laughing when they stayed head-to-head.

    Midori locked away the sound of that laugh deep in the vault in his heart.

    ***

    An hour later, Yoshi sat at the head of a gargantuan table in the Furian Palace Court Room, facing officials and nobles from both Earith and the Furian Forest.

    “The Princess Naria will lead the allied forces into Lexin City.”

    Protests and murmurs of complaints filled the room, rising until Lord Heloth dared voice the words.

    “Why not you?” Lord Heloth.  “We have come together under your banner, Your Royal Highness.  Why must we now serve the Furian Princess?”

    “I go to convince Dwind to join forces.”  Yoshi kept his tone neutral, his expression blank, giving away none of what he felt inside.  “Lilind of Dwind will listen to no one else.”

    Midori listened as the nobles argued, and came up with suggestions to keep the Princess Naria from leading the allied forces.  Their irrational fear for the Furians annoyed him, especially after all the Princess Naria had done.  Keeping Fier’s rabid army clear of Earith, fighting for them…

    “Why can’t you name General Midori your proxy?” Lord Heloth suggested at one point.  “He is a proven leader.  He kept the Fier Rebel army at bay until you came back to the Earith border.”

    Midori started to protest but Yoshi beat him to it, slapping his palm on the table, startling the room into silence.

    “The Princess Naria leads the allied forces,” Yoshi roared.  “Her title ranks higher than General Midori or you Lord Heloth.  The Princess Naria knows more of war than all of us in this room.  She has kept the Furian Forest at peace for more years than I have lived.  Anyone who dares question my authority will face my Black Guard.”

    Silence filled the room.  Many mistook it as acquiescence to Yoshi’s words, perhaps an acknowledgment to his threat to meet the Black Guard.  Midori recognized the fact that these noble men and women had finally caught a glimpse of their future ruler.  Yoshi’s voice had rang with undeniable authority.  His gaze cold as he delivered his first edict.

    “Namik of Fier has reached Lexin City.  Our army must face him soon.  We need to draw his attention away from the Palace.”

    “Do you think Dwind will join forces with us?” Princess Naria asked Yoshi then.  “Lilind of the Sands rarely moves a finger when the Quads are at odds.”

    “It is my duty to try,” Yoshi answered.  “If she won’t join us, I will return with Terra’s forces and we can face Namik together.”

    “How long will you be away, Your Royal Highness?” Lord Heloth asked, when Naria took over talks on planning the allied forces.

    “Five days,” Yoshi said.  “It should take us three days to cut through Earith, and enter Dwind.  Depending on Lilind’s answer, there will be no need for stealth, I will enter the Imperial Lands and meet you at the gates into Lexin City.”

    “Who goes with you?” Princess Naria asked.

    “Sando, Telia, General Midori and the Black Guard,” Yoshi said.

    “Will that be enough?” Lord Heloth asked.  “If we lose you, this war is lost.”

    “One of my men will join us,” Midori said, speaking for the first time.  “Lenoth is a seasoned warrior.”

    “I will hold you responsible if anything should go wrong,” the Princess Naria said, her voice colder than Yoshi’s.

    Midori wondered if there was a Royal School hidden in the Empire that taught them how to intimidate their lowly subjects.  Midori inclined his head in understanding and Princess Naria continued on with her plans.  The planning took over three hours.  By the time it ended, preparations were underway for departure.  Midori lost sight of Yoshi as he went off with Sando to talk to the soldiers in the army in person.

    To keep up morale, Midori sighed.

    Yoshi had no idea that having him around was enough of a boost for the men and women in the allied forces.  A Prince who had spent his life hidden away from the world by the powerful Empress Almira, now walked among his people, fought beside them…got wounded…Yoshi was stealing hearts at every turn.  Midori stood on the edge of the clearing near the army barracks and watched Yoshi sit around a fire, joining five other men.  The men laughed at something Yoshi said, and Sando paced behind him in a state of agitation.  No doubt worried one of the men would dare touch Yoshi, or some similar foolishness.  Yoshi patted a soldier’s shoulder and Midori grinned.  Poor Sando.

    “He is changing you,” Lenoth said, coming to join him.  “You smile more readily than you did before.”

    “Do I?” Midori asked, swallowing back his smile, though it was hard for him to stop staring at Yoshi.  “Have Naro pack enough for three days journey.  Once we reach Dwind, we will know what to do from there.  Ask him to consult the Prince’s Chamberlain on further arrangements.”

    “I have never been to Dwind,” Lenoth confessed.  “I hear the sand shifts according to Lilind’s mood.  When she is angry, it rises up into the sky, covering all who dare brave it to their death.  I would hate to suffocate in sand, My Lord.”

    “Your imagination is alive and well,” Midori soothed.  “I promise not to let you suffocate in sand.”

    Lenoth flashed him a grin.

    “I can’t promise you won’t sink into the sand, though,” Midori continued.  “The ground does turn soft in Lilind’s dunes.  One step is all it takes, and you are swallowed up.”

    “Cruel Lord General,” Lenoth scoffed.  “Looks like the Prince has done nothing for your sense of humor.”

    Midori laughed and Yoshi turned at the sound.  Their gazes met and held, and for one solid second, the reality of the war ahead disappeared.  Then Lenoth touched his arm, seeking his attention, and Yoshi looked to the soldiers eagerly talking to him.  The second passed, but Midori locked it away deep inside: a treasured memory.

    ***

    Zia Sayu crawled along a murky dirty drain.  Her fingers touching rough rock, squashy muck she dared not examine.  The stench alone enough to wake the dead.  She coughed, her gaze on the light at the end of the tunnel.  The cat she had followed into the drain long gone.  Skipping on nimble feet along the drainage edge no doubt coming out with no speck of dirt.

    Such cunning creatures, cats.

    At least she had lost her assassins.  The drain the cat had chosen was sunk under the wall, hidden by long blades of grass.  She would never have found it without the cat.  She kept walking forward, her bag balanced on her head.  The ring on a chain around her neck carefully protected by her tunic.  Once she was within the walls of Terra, then her real task would start.

    Her goal: finding Lady Tinya Hellis, Terra’s Commandant the Empress’s sister in-law.  Lady Hellis’s castle was carved out of the cliffs by the ocean and guarded by the men who trained the Prince’s Black Guard.  Zia stopped and touched the blades on her back, hidden under the dark fabric she wore.  Sneaking in was impossible, fighting her way through was the only option.  But before that…she pressed her back against the tunnel wall, crouched and closed her eyes.  She needed at least four hours of sleep if she hoped to succeed.

    ***

    yoshi2

  • The Morgan Lore – 7

    The Pack House Extension

    Rory drove home in a state of euphoria.  The feel of Milan’s touch fresh in his mind.  He loved it already, wanted more, and it pained him to wait.

    The memory of Milan holding his hand, looking at him with amused beautiful brown eyes left him with a fluttering heart.

    Rory parked his car next to his father’s pickup.  Turning off the engine, he sat in the driver’s seat for a full minute thinking about meeting Milan at the party tomorrow.  He needed to work at not making his need to be close to Milan obvious.  There was so much to show Milan, he didn’t know where to start.  It was frustrating having to wait, but damn, he loved everything about Milan already.

    Grinning like a fool, he got out of his car.  The sound of hammering and drilling drew his gaze to the west side of the house he had called home for eighteen years.

    Shit!  He had completely forgotten about the extension project.  That was probably the reason why his father was calling him earlier.  A frown creased his smooth forehead, when Jack Bennett, Lisbeth’s son, stepped out of a new balcony on the second floor of the extended section.

    “Rory.”

    Jack kept his voice low, easy enough for Rory to hear despite the distance between them.

    “You need to find Beta Kutler to sign off on supplies.  We are almost finished with the bathrooms up here.  We need glass for the shower stall in the master suite at the end of the hall, bars for the towels in all rooms, we’re also missing a sink.  The rest of the list is with Annie.”

    “Got it,” Rory said to Jack and started to the main front door.

    “If we keep a steady workflow, we should be done with major construction before ten tonight,” Jack continued.  “Then we can all go for the midnight bonfire.  You’re coming right?”

    Rory gave Jack a thumbs up, though he wasn’t sure about hanging out with the pack tonight.  He was already missing Milan.  He wanted to see his mate pop the prosecco bottles they had bought earlier.  Entering the house, Rory dropped his keys on the table in the hall and looked up to find his father watching him.

    “Follow me,” Connor said, going up the stairs to the second floor without waiting for Rory’s answer.

    Rory winced at the thought of the coming tirade.  He had not spoken much to his Dad since the day he saw Milan.  He followed Connor into a private study on the second floor.  Closing the door, he turned to find Connor leaning on his desk, arms crossed against his chest.

    “So, you’ve found your mate,” Connor stated before Rory could say anything.

    Rory could not help his smile.

    “Yes.”

    “He’s not one of us,” Connor continued.

    Rory’s fingers curled into fists, and met his father’s gaze.

    “He is still mine,” Rory said, ready to fight anyone who dared say otherwise.

    Connor lifted his hand to calm him.

    “Rory.” Connor smiled.  “The moment you shut me out, I knew you met him.  I understand some of what you are feeling.  I had your mother once, didn’t I?”

    Rory let out a breath, relaxing his stance.  Connor rarely talked about his mother, that he would mention her was enough.

    “I’m sorry this won’t be easy for you,” Connor said in the following silence.  “While you’ve been away, Lechter and the Mayor have been hard at work.  Biosense slipped Dr. Ilaria into the hospital through a training program.  The doctors in charge say they need the program because of new equipment in the hospital.”

    “Ilaria is harmless,” Rory said.  “She spends most of her time worrying about my mate.  The rest is divided between work, her oldest son and her husband.”

    “Well, now that the hospital is aware, her schedule was changed.  They’ll manage what she has access to.  Dr. Ilaria is not the problem.”  Connor crossed his arms against his chest.  “Her husband, Kiyo Takeda, is the threat.”

    Connor took a folder from his desk and held it up for Rory to see.  The thickness of the folder made Rory wary.  It was never good when the Sheriff could drag up such a thick folder on a person.

    “I’m not going to read that,” Rory said, meeting his father’s gaze.

    Rory paced back, then with a shrug, he closed his eyes and sighed.  Heart pounding hard, Rory stopped close to the door and turned to face Connor.

    “Ok, just tell me what’s in it.”

    Connor chuckled.

    “It’s not a perp folder.  Dr. Takeda is a renowned researcher on genetics, and something to do with blood.  Lechter compiled it with help from his millions of contacts.  He explained the content, but it sounded like gibberish to me.  All I know is that we should be concerned that such a man is living so close to our home.  It also says that he has been working on finding a cure for his youngest son.  Is your mate ill?”

    Rory rubbed his eyes, and started pacing again.

    “Yes.  Something is wrong with him, even though I don’t understand it yet.”

    “Rory—

    “I’m not willing to walk away,” Rory cut in before his father could continue.  “I’m not able to, Dad.  I can’t.”

    “I wasn’t going to ask you to,” Connor said, a slight frown creasing his forehead.  “Though, I have to remind you, loyalty to the pack is cardinal, Rory.  The town’s safety is second to none.  Your mate’s status needs discussion by the council.”

    Rory stopped pacing to look at his dad.

    “What happens when Lechter won’t accept him?” Rory asked, aware that the Chancellor was too paranoid to make concessions.  Lechter would vote against Milan, and his family, that was no secret.

    “You’re jumping to conclusions.”

    “I’m not, and you know it, Dad.”  Rory shook his head.  “Lechter hates humans.  Are you telling me it won’t seep into his judgment?  Milan won’t even get a chance to prove himself.”

    “Milan,” Connor smiled.  “He has a nice name.”

    Rory returned his father’s smile, his thoughts on Milan.

    “He’s so handsome, and lively when he’s feeling well.  I can’t wait to introduce him to you.  It’s killing me not being able to meet him and hold him.  If this goes south, I don’t-, I can’t even-, this—

    “It will be fine, Rory,” Connor said, pushing off the desk, coming to place a gentle hand on Rory’s right shoulder.  “We’ll find a way through it together.”

    “Is this what it was like with you and Mom?” Rory asked, holding his father’s gaze.

    Connor’s dark blue eyes turned stormy and he squeezed Rory’s shoulder.  Rory saw pain slash through his father, and bit his lip hard for having dredged up painful memories.

    “It was complicated,” Connor answered, his voice thick with emotion, “but that is a story for another day.  When you’re ready, bring Milan to meet me.  For now, we’ll delay the council hearing for as long as possible.  Or until we better understand Kiyo Takeda’s work.  Alright?”

    Rory nodded, relief flooding him for the small leeway from the Alpha.  Now, all he had to do was meet Milan officially, get their bond to grow to the point that breaking it would be too cruel.  The council could not sever a mated bond, no matter the situation.

    “Now that we have cleared, stop locking me out,” Connor said, squeezing Rory’s shoulder before he let go and walked back to his desk.  “You’re still under my rule, Rory Morgan.  I have duties for you to carry out.”

    “Yes Sir,” Rory said.

    “Starting with finishing construction on the west-side extension.  You started that project, finish it.  Looks like it won’t be just Topher and his mate who need privacy soon.”

    Rory grinned, excitement filling him at the thought of moving in with Milan.  He gave Connor a nod, then hurried out of the study room heading downstairs.

    Rory hurried down hallway that would lead him to the back of the pack house.  A section of the back was reserved for pack matters.  He entered a mini reception, already occupied by three women and a couple who sat on the waiting chairs.  The secretary behind the desk glanced up from her screen and treated him to a smile.

    “Rory.  Back from town?”

    Rory leaned on the counter.

    “Yep.  Jack says you have a list for me.”

    “I do,” she handed him a clipboard with a neat list of items.

    Giving it a once over, Rory smiled at Annie.

    “Thanks.”

    “Are you coming tonight?” Annie asked him, her gaze hopeful.

    She wasn’t the first to give him that look.  Bonfire nights were like open season among his people.  Willing partners who had not found their mates found comfort in each other’s arms.  He had lost his virginity on a bonfire night.

    Now, knowing there was Milan, Rory found Annie’s gaze irritated him.

    “I might stop by for a few minutes,” Rory said, ignoring Annie’s frown when he didn’t say more.  “Is Beta Kutler in?”

    “Yeah, sure,” Annie said, with a short nod.

    Rory thanked her for the list and hurried past her desk to a short hallway with six doors, each belonging to an official in the pack.  Pack businesses was conducted in this dedicated space.  His father had once told him that running the pack was very much like running an official organization.  There was treasury, the secretariat, pack welfare, and security offices.  Each one with complete staff sourced from the pack members.

    The other two doors were the Alpha’s office and the Beta and Third’s office.  Each one handling different aspects of the pack.

    Rory had spent most of his teenage years learning the duties of each offices.  Six years of hanging out here and he could navigate the insane bureaucracy that was pack politics like a pro.

    Tapping on the clipboard, Rory paused when he saw Dolon’s family in the security offices talking to June Vadisi, the Beta’s wife and the head of security.  Dolon’s mother, a petite blonde, pressed a handkerchief to her eyes.  She was crying.  Her husband rubbing her shoulders, trying to sooth her.

    Rory frowned.  He would have stepped in to learn more, but June chose that moment to close the door.

    They must be complaining about his brother Chris putting their son in hospital.

    Rory smirked.  He pitied Dolon’s mom, but the moment that punk Dolon got out of hospital, he was heading back in.  Rory had not forgotten the reasons why Chris had raced Dolon.  Looks like that family was going to be complaining about the Morgan brothers for a while.

    Rory continued on to the next door, finding it open too.  He knocked on the door, and entered after a gruff grunt replied.

    “Beta Kutler,” Rory said, closing the door, his gaze on the tall man behind a large wooden desk laden with paperwork, and an electric typewriter.

    Rumor was that the desk was as old as Portento, which was a couple of hundred years old.  His ancestors were said to have carved the desk out of old trees in the original pack homestead.  Rory imagined the grannies who had told him that story were exaggerating.  No desk, no matter how well preserved, would last that long without parts replaced.

    “Rory Morgan, did you come in to stare?”

    Rory met shrewd dark eyes and bit back a laugh at the sight of hickory barbecue sauce stuck on Kutler Vadisi’s greying beard.  Walking to the old desk, he took a tissue from a box kept by June on the edge of the desk and held it out to Kutler.

    “June must have made another delicious barbeque burger for lunch,” Rory said in greeting.

    “She does know me well,” Kutler said, flashing him a grin as he wiped off the barbeque sauce.  “Why are you here?”

    “Supplies,” Rory held out the clipboard.  “Before you send me to treasury, remember that this project is not under the pack fund.”

    “Right,” Kutler placed the clipboard on the desk before him and sat back to study Rory.  “You’re a smart one, Rory Morgan.  How did you figure out that The Morgan could pay for this extension?”

    Rory grinned, and sat in the armchair facing Kutler.  The Morgan was an intricate web of companies ran by Kutler outside Portento.   Known only as TMG, they funneled energy back to Portento, provided major construction services, and manufactured an impressive list of products designed to keep Portento unnoticed.

    Rory had gone through TMG’s accounting files after Kutler asked him to sort financial data sent to him in large boxes by the company’s offices.

    “Simple, TMG needed a CSR project, I created one, you approved it,” Rory smiled.

    “Sneaky,” Kutler said, folding his hands against his chest.  “You know, this pack house was originally built as it is for a reason.  The Alpha, Beta and Third live here with their families to keep the pack stable, Rory.”

    “I understand it,” Rory nodded, sliding his hands over the smooth arms of his chair.  “I respect what our grandparents created, but I’ve walked in on Topher and Maryann going at it in the shared bathroom upstairs at least ten times.  He has almost ripped my head off each time.”

    Kurtis shook his head with a frown.

    “I did not need that image.”

    Rory chuckled sure Kurtis was right.  Topher was his first born son and the next Beta.

    “What do I say if the rest of the pack complain about the crazy renovations you’ve created?”

    “You can say you’re helping our family gain serious privacy,” Rory said, watching Kurtis sign the supplies list.  “The extension gives Matt, Topher and I much needed space, leaving our current rooms open for anyone who might need their use.  It’s a good deal.”

    “I’m impressed, Rory.  Your father doesn’t have time for numbers, or navigating paperwork like you do.”  Kurtis handed him the clipboard.  “Keep learning, Rory.  I don’t know why, but I have a crazy feeling about your generation.  I think it will be great if you also learn how to adapt fast.”

    Rory stood and took the clipboard with a short nod already used to Kurtis’s advice session.  He always got these little speeches when he entered Kurtis’s domain.

    Rory imagined it was the burden of running the huge company Kurtis did, and worrying about the pack’s financial future.  He did not envy Topher and the heavy burden of taking up TMG at all.

    “Thanks, Beta Kurtis,” Rory said, heading to the door.

    “Be at the bonfire tonight,” Kurtis said, his tone not pleading like Annie’s but a clear order.  “It will be good for the pack to see the future leaders of the pack around.  We need to show strength, Rory.  Let Topher and Matt know too.”

    Rory gave the pack’s beta a short nod and hurried out of the office before more orders came his way.

    His afternoon raced in a whirlwind of activity, all of it to do with construction.  Driving his father’s truck back to town, to the only hardware, he got the supplies Jack needed.  He drove back home, working with Jack to help the crew finish up all major work on the extension of the house.

    “Looks real good,” Topher said, entering the master bedroom in the corner suite on the second floor late evening.  “Now you just need Maryann to help with the cosmetics.”

    Rory smiled with pride as he finished screwing the last towel bar.  He straightened up, swiping sweat off his forehead with his bandana.  Leaving the master bathroom, he adjusted the tool belt around his waist and looked around the empty master bedroom.

    This was his suite…a smile tagged his lips…no, it was his and Milan’s.  His mate would live here with him soon.

    “You’re grinning like a lovesick fool,” Topher teased from the balcony.  “I’m kind of jealous.  I miss those first days with Maryann.  That first intense connection, I didn’t think I would ever get used to it.”

    Rory stretched his arms above his head and walked to the balcony to join Topher who was leaning on the rail watching pack kids in the huge backyard behind the house.

    “Thanks for pushing for this extension,” Topher said after a minute.  “I mean, it’s nice to stay close to our parents, but it was getting…weird.”

    “Weird,” Rory said at the same time as Topher.

    “Yeah,” Topher smiled.  “Sometimes it’s nice to have space just to be ourselves.  You’ll understand when you and Milan are together.”

    Rory closed his eyes thinking of Milan, his chest aching.

    “How long is that going to take?” Rory murmured, looking in the direction of Milan’s house.  “I don’t even want to think about everyone’s reaction to this news.  You should have seen Linda today at the grocery store.  Her eyes were gleaming with excitement for this brewing storm.”

    “It’s your own fault for rushing over there,” Topher grinned, shaking his head when Rory shrugged.  “I can’t believe you pretended to bag groceries.  Everyone now knows you are crazy about a boy named Milan.  They think it’s an infatuation.”

    Rory leaned on the railing not sorry.  The gossip was worth talking to Milan, and hearing Milan call him a handsome tall man.  Brown eyes smiling at him, making Rory want to pull Milan into his arms and kiss him senseless.

    “I want to see him tonight.”

    “It’s new year’s eve,” Topher said, watching him.  “Your duty is with the pack tonight.  You can see him tomorrow.”

    Rory sighed and shook his head, resenting his duties for the first time in his life.

    “Hey,” Topher moved closer to place a hand on Rory’s shoulder.  “You’ll get to see him tomorrow afternoon at the party Linda’s planning.”

    Despite Topher’s assuring words, Rory found his longing grew wider thinking of the great divide between now and tomorrow’s afternoon.  His heart clenched hard, unable to bear that long a separation.

    ***

    Later that night, Rory perched on a log, drinking amber ale as he watched Connor, Kurtis and Lechter take their places of honor as Alpha, Beta and Third.  Their backyard was filled with pack members.   They had driven in from all over town.  They sat on logs laid out along different sized tables in the open space.  Food made in the pack house kitchen filled the tables: delicious platters of meats, fruit, sweet foods and delicacies brought by the pack members.

    An indie band started by Topher’s younger sister, Jade, when she first joined high school, played a mishmash of covers under a tent.  The band’s voices had matured and they sounded better than when they first started.  They had attracted the younger crowd to the tent.

    Chris, Matt and Jack had built a huge fire pit in the middle of the yard for the bonfire.  Their college friends were roasting mash mellows on long sticks, and drinking hard liquor.

    Rory watched Matt throw a bottle of beer into the burning flame, making it flare up.  Topher jumped on Matt’s back.  Matt started running around the pit, both of them screaming like crazy idiots.

    It was almost midnight.  Rory drank deep from his cup, wondering what Milan was doing with his family.

    “Alpha Rory,” a shy voice said his name, and he turned to his right to find Annie from reception standing a few feet away.

    She looked pretty in a white short dress.  Her brown hair loose around her shoulders.

    “Will you dance with me?” she asked.

    Rory stared into his cup, unwilling.

    “Sorry, Annie.  I don’t feel up to it.”

    “Come on, please?” Annie pleaded.  Rory looked up to find her on the verge of tears.  “I just want one dance.  I’m not asking for anything else.”

    Rory wanted to offer her the comfort she needed.  She looked lonely.  She was a member of his pack.  He should worry about her looking so sad…but, the thought of touching her while Milan was so close by.  Not that Milan would know, but—

    “Annie,” Matt said, coming out of nowhere.  “Look at you, how beautiful you are!  Dance with me.”

    Annie blushed, turning ten shades of red, as Matt wrapped an arm around her shoulders.  Before Rory could comment, Matt was already leading Annie toward the tent filled with dancers.

    Rory sighed in relief, but then groaned when a hard slap landed on the back of his head.  He turned to find Topher settling beside him.

    “What was that for?” Rory demanded, rubbing the back of his head, his dark hair tangling in his fingers.

    “Letting all the ladies think they can have you during parties.  You’ve been such a slut, Rory Morgan.”

    Rory scoffed, searching for Maryanne and finding her playing guitar in Jade’s band.

    “Look who is talking.  You were with me when we turned fifteen and you thought Trinity was hot as—”

    Rory didn’t get to finish that sentence as his mouth was filled with a burger bun.  He chuckled and took a big bite of the burger, looking at Topher.

    “First rule of fight club,” Topher said, sipping his beer.

    Rory burst out laughing, turning away from Topher before he could spray bits of burger in his face.

    “Okay.  You don’t talk about my party nights from now on either,” Rory said, though he knew at some point he would need to tell Milan of his crazy antics.

    In time, he decided.  When they were together a long time and Milan would forgive him without being hurt.

    “Deal,” Topher said, with a short nod, holding out his fist to Rory for a fist bump.

    Rory bumped his fist to Topher’s and was going to take a sip of his drink when a small brown wolf ran too close almost making him spill his drink.  He shifted in time to avoid three others following after the first in a race.

    Rory grinned when the young wolves all ran around the pit fire, playing and rolling on the grass, their excitement infectious.  Their enthusiasm seemed to spike the party up a notch as the music seemed to get louder, and conversations bloomed, laughter filled the night air.

    Rory reveled in the joy of being part of this most unique and huge family, one that he would protect with his very life if asked.  As they ushered in the New Year, Rory’s only wish was that he wanted Milan to sit next to him on the next New Year’s Eve.  He wanted to see Milan Takeda accepted into this great family.

    ***

    On New Year’s Day, Rory dragged a sleepy Matt, Topher and his mate, Maryanne, to the town party planned by Linda.  The town hall was buzzing with activity when they arrived.  Linda had everything planned, down to three violinists playing on stage, setting a classy mood, compared to the crazy part the night before.

    Rory walked through the laid back crowd, his gaze searching, listening, and seeking the sound of that lyrical accented voice belonging to Milan.

    “Maybe they are late,” Topher said, when they still hadn’t found them halfway through the room.

    “Ilaria doesn’t seem like the type,” Rory said, filled with anxiety.

    Then he heard Ilaria’s jovial laugh, and elation flooded him.  He turned in the direction of her laugh to see her standing next to Ayu, as she talked to Linda and Mayor Lisbeth.  Ilaria looked beautiful in a lilac dress, her hair held back with a shiny clip.  Beside her, Ayu wore a nice grey dress shirt with white slacks.  They looked elegant and classy.

    Rory frowned when he didn’t see Milan.

    Linda met his gaze, as though sensing his confusion.  She winked at him as she asked Ilaria,

    “What about your youngest?  I met him last time.  Milan?”

    Ilaria’s smile slipped, her fingers tightening on her glass.  The shift was subtle, but hard to miss.

    “He is at home with my husband.  The weather is hard on him.  He starts school tomorrow.  We thought it better that he stay home so that he is at his best.”

    Linda nodded, steering the conversation to Ilaria’s work.

    Rory couldn’t believe Milan hadn’t made it.  Disappointment flooded him and he placed the glass of juice he held on a table, ready to leave.

    “Wait,” Maryanne stopped him.

    She hurried off to the long table on the side laden with dishes brought for the party.  She came back holding a pecan pie.

    “It’s rude to show up without a gift,” she said.  “You can at least say Linda sent you to welcome him to town.”

    Rory took the pie, not waiting for more instruction.  He ran out to the parking lot determined to see Milan.

    ***

    tml

  • Crown Prince Yoshi – 11

    It was remarkable, Yoshi thought as he entered a large banquet hall at the center of the Furian Castle.  Midori stayed a step beside him.  The Furian community was made up of women, not a male insight.  From guards, to cooks, serving women, to council members and generals, there were only women.  The Earith Generals were already present and enjoying the food on large log tables, garnished with beautiful ferns and colorful flowers.

    A group of women played music at one corner, one string instruments set in different tones, and their music turned the atmosphere festive.

    “His Royal Highness, the Prince Yoshi,” Sando announced into the room, and everyone turned to face him.

    The hundreds of hopeful gazes settling on him frightened him, yet he had to remain stoic, and in command.  Yoshi gave a short nod to acknowledge the bows of greeting he got from the crowd.

    “Your Royal Highness,” Naria said, breaking away from her council members.  “I’m honored to host you in my Palace.  The last time you were here, you were a boy visiting with Her Majesty.”

    “That was a long time ago, Princess Naria.”

    “Indeed,” Naria said with a nod.  “The burden on your shoulders is now heavier.”

    Yoshi forced a smile.

    “Not too heavy.”

    “Well said,” Naria said.  “Please, let’s sit.  There is food to eat, drinks, and people to meet.  Your Royal Highness, we must celebrate the start of a new world.”

    Yoshi led the way to the dais, taking the seat of honor.  Naria sat beside him, a server coming to pour him wine as soon as he was settled.  He picked up the gold goblet, brought it to his lips, though he didn’t sip the wine.  Paranoia had set in, his assassins were many.

    Placing the goblet on the table, he spoke to Naria.

    “Your women fight with admirable passion,” Yoshi said, his gaze searching the crowd to find Telia.  “I have had the privilege of fighting alongside Telia these past weeks.  She has saved my life.”

    “She is a noble fighter,” Naria said, her tone tinged with fondness, her gaze soft when it settled on Telia.  “You are safe with her.”

    Telia caught them looking at her, and stood up to give a short bow.

    Naria raised her goblet in acknowledgement, allowing Telia to take her seat next to Hinna.

    Sando brought Yoshi a plate of food, giving him a nod of assurance.  The food was tested.  Yoshi wondered which of Naria’s servants had been handed that job.  These were dangerous times; it wasn’t safe to be his food taster.

    Yoshi took a slice of peach and ate it with a small sigh.

    “Royal Highness.”

    Yoshi glanced up from his plate to find a tall bulky woman standing four seats down a long table below the dais.  Unlike Telia with her grace, this woman was hard, nary a soft curve in sight.

    “’Tis an honor to have you here in our palace,” the woman said.  “I am Aruku of Furian, the First General of the Furian army.  I ask you listen to a humble servant’s request, your Royal Highness.”

    The hall had gone silent, the music stopped, and all eyes were on him.  Yoshi gave her a short nod of approval.

    “Our Princess Naria has long fought for peace in the Northern borders.  She has kept the rebels from reaching the Imperial Lands, served Her Majesty, the Empress, with every breath.  Kept your people from suffering when she could, she offers sanctuary to those who need it from Fier.”

    “And the Empress is grateful for Her Highness’s tireless care,” Yoshi said.  “We value the Princess Naria’s devotion to this Empire, General Aruku.”

    “I would ask you consider the Furian people’s request to join the Empire’s government.  We have every right to help make laws and govern—

    “That is not a decision to be made here,” Heloth of Earith cut in, standing too.  He looked formal in his army uniform.  “The Quad council is not a matter to be decided by His Royal Highness alone.”

    “His Royal Highness asks our people to fight for the Empire,” Aruku said.  “The Empire will need our swords, our blood, the Quads are at war, and you expect us to join with you and solve your problems without reward.”

    “The problem you speak of is not simple,” Heloth countered.  “The fight spills into the Furian lands, if you don’t help, there will be no Furian Forest to protect.”

    “What do you gain from our fight?” Aruku asked.

    “Peace,” Heloth said.  “Peace for all of us.”

    “Peace,” Aruku turned to look at Yoshi.  “The Empire will be at peace, and the Furian people will be forgotten again.  Your Royal Highness—

    “General Aruku,” Naria cut in.  “Your concerns are valid.  However, the Furian people follow my rule, my will.  The Empire at peace is my will, for the sake of our people and those in the Quads.”

    “Your Highness, you remain our wise leader.  But, all the Quads have ever done is taken from us, never given.  Your Royal Highness, am I wrong to ask for consideration for my people?”

    Yoshi pushed his plate of food aside.

    “The Quad Council is governed by the people,” Yoshi said.

    “Your Royal Highness is the people’s chosen,” Aruku pointed out.

    “That is currently unclear, General.  The people are divided by fear of an impeding war.”  Yoshi gave her a small smile.  “A war that will ravage the Empire if allowed to continue, there will be no Quad Council when Namik of Fier is done.”

    “Your Royal Highness,” Aruku started, shaking her head, disappointment clear on her features.

    She wasn’t the only one.  He saw similar expressions on all the Furian gazes directed at him.  They would follow the Princess Naria’s edicts if she fought by his side, but they weren’t happy.

    Yoshi glanced to his left, meeting Midori’s gaze.  Midori gave him a small nod and he let a small sigh escape.  Pushing his chair back, Yoshi got to his feet, waving his hand down so that everyone remained seated.

    “General Aruku,” Yoshi said, meeting her gaze, then shifting his to include the hundreds of Furian people in the room, mixed in with officers from Earith.  “Fellow Furians, men and women of Earith, let’s make one thing clear.  Namik of Fier is fighting for power, and we are fighting for the freedom of choice and peace.”

    “The world we knew before this fight has disappeared.  Distrust brews among our people, anger builds as lives are lost and families are scattered.  This war is a fight for the right to have a peaceful meal with our loved ones.  When we win this fight, you will have a right to choose how to govern the Empire we save and build together.  The tunnel darkens each day and we’re far from the light.”

    Yoshi met General Aruku’s gaze.

    “Promises can only be made when the war is won, and peace reigns.”

    General Aruku gave him a startling smile.

    “Can I take that as your word, Your Royal Highness?  Will you allow me to remind you that the Furian People need to be remembered in your government?”

    Yoshi returned Aruku’s smile.

    “If we’re still standing at the end,” he said.

    Aruku gave him a low bow.

    “Your rule will prosper, Your Royal Highness.”

    “You sound confident, General,” Yoshi said, resting his hand on the back of his chair.

    “My people are skilled in battle,” Aruku said.  “Thank you for listening to a lowly officer, Your Royal Highness.”

    The hall settled into excited murmurs as Aruku took her seat, the music started and the room was once again buzzing with conversation.

    “You handled that well,” Naria said, turning to look at him.  “Managing not to make any clear promise of government position, Almira trained you well.”

    Yoshi sat down, folding his arms against his chest.

    “Your General is speaking for your people, Princess.  Your people seem discontent with the current Quad Council.”

    “The Empress and I have tried to keep a distant relationship,” Naria said.  “She didn’t want to know what happens in the Furian Forest.  As long as I didn’t interfere with the Empire’s laws, she never pushed for a Furian member on the council.  However, there have been requests directed at her without my knowledge.  Whenever the requests were too insistent, Her Majesty presented them at Council meetings, but as you know, the Quad Council is not keen on my people.”

    Yoshi glanced at her.

    “It seems your will is no longer enough, Princess Naria.  You won’t be able to keep a distant relationship with Generals like Aruku in your court.”

    “Yes,” Naria said with a sigh.  “Times are changing.”

    “Perhaps the Furian People should change as well,” Yoshi said, glancing at Hinna who was playing with Telia’s hair.  “Allow the next generation to have choices—change the way you treat yours sons.”

    “I had a brother once,” Naria said.  “I loved him too…though I don’t know what became of him when the Furian elders took him away from my mother.”

    “The Furian women are bred strong,” Naria continued.  “I cannot change ingrained traditions; no men have lived in these palace walls in centuries.  It’s not an easy matter.  However, with your guidance, perhaps we can start mingling with the Empire’s people.  Split the veil in half, so that the people are not so afraid of us.”

    “It won’t be easy,” Yoshi said, his gaze on Telia.

    “Nothing worth having ever is,” Naria answered with a wistful smile.  “We will fight for you, young Prince.”

    Yoshi nodded and reached for his goblet only to find it gone.  He frowned when he saw his plate had been taken away too.  He glanced up to find Midori walking up to the head table.  Curious gazes followed his progress, Yoshi wondered what Midori wanted.

    “I have a request of His Royal Highness too,” Midori said, stopping before Yoshi’s table.

    “Midori of Fier,” Naria said straightening in her seat.  “Imagine my surprise to see you in my hall.  Your father has wrecked havoc on my borders for years.”

    “My father’s choices are his own,” Midori said, giving the Princess a short incline of his head.  “Mine lie with the safety of my people.”

    “Telia has sworn consequences should those choices lead His Royal Highness into more danger.”  Naria smiled, her eyes narrowed, their depths filled with warning.  “Whatever punishment she chose, I will triple it, even if it means following you into the afterlife.”

    “Aunt, the General has proven his loyalty,” Yoshi said.  “He has protected me.”

    “For now,” Princess Naria said.  “What request would you make of his Royal Highness?”

    Midori smiled then, his gaze on Yoshi.

    “It is quite simple after all this is a celebration of sorts.  The allied forces are now working together.”

    Midori extended his hand, giving Yoshi a formal bow.

    “All I ask of His Royal Highness is one dance.”

    Yoshi bit back his smile, amused by Midori’s antics.  The murmurs of surprise filled the room, all eyes were on Yoshi to see if he would refuse Midori’s request.  Yoshi met Midori’s gaze and read a challenge.

    “Only one dance?” Yoshi asked with a smirk.

    “If one should turn to two, or three, I would not object,” Midori said, still in his formal bow.  “Will you grant me this simple request, Your Royal Highness?”

    “I’m afraid your request is not so simple, General.”  Yoshi bit his lower lip, this time to keep from laughing as approving murmurs filled the room.  Most of the officers were still wary of Midori.  “The requests we grant could have far reaching repercussions.”

    “Your toes in pain would be the only repercussions, Your Royal Highness.  I must confess, I have two left feet”

    Midori winked.

    Naria chuckled, her amusement prompting others to join in the laugh.

    Yoshi stood then, glad the atmosphere had changed from wary to merriment.  He took Midori’s hand, biting back the small moan of pleasure when Midori’s warm fingers wrapped around his.

    “If that is all we shall endure, then you have your dance,” Yoshi said, meeting Midori’s gaze.

    The music changed to a slow melody as they stepped down to the open floor between tables.  Midori placed Yoshi’s right hand on his left shoulder, taking Yoshi’s left hand, he closed the small distance between them.  Midori placed his left hand around Yoshi’s waist.

    “I see you, Yoshi,” Midori whispered, as they moved in slow steps.  “How hard it is for you to hold on to your armor among them.  You take my breath away.”

    Keenly aware of every gaze in the room on them, Yoshi met Midori’s gaze.

    “You’re taking risks.”  Yoshi matched Midori’s tone.  “I can barely hide what I feel for you.  Your life will be in danger, Midori.”

    Lord Heloth and the Princess Naria joined them, dancing close.  Yoshi let out a soft breath as more couples joined in.

    “Namik of Fier is my father.  My life is always in danger.  Forget the risks for one night,” Midori said into his ear.  “Forget the assassins, the war, politics, only think of us, here dancing to beautiful music.”

    Yoshi fought the urge to step closer and lay his head on Midori’s shoulder.

    “Do you want to escape?” Midori asked.

    “How can I?”

    Everyone would notice him leaving, they always did, no matter how discrete he was.

    “Trust me,” Midori said.

    Yoshi met dark eyes surprised to see that leading him into an alcove and they were off the main floor.

    Midori took Yoshi’s hand and led him out of a side entrance, leading them into a corridor.  They broke into a run, that ended when they entered Yoshi’s chambers.  Midori closed the doors and pressed Yoshi against them.

    “Alone, at last,” Midori said with a triumphant smile.

    Yoshi gripped Midori’s shirt.  He tilted his head up, a relieved sigh escaping when Midori kissed him with unrestrained hunger.

    ***

    Lexin City

    The city was rife with unrest.  With every step, unseen by her people, Almira caught glimpses of fear, uncertainty…a family packing up belongings in to a cart, she hoped they weren’t going into the Imperial Lands.  The mourning drum rolls in the palace didn’t help matters.  The Capital was tense.  She secured the scarf around her neck, making sure it hooded her face in the shadows.  She didn’t stand out, but a glimpse of her face on the streets would cause a wild panic.

    Cutting through the city square, Almira led the way through back alleys that led her to an old city library.  She used the back entrance, as the front was guarded by two palace guards.  The back was a service entrance, and her guard handed the old man seated at the entrance a bag of coins to forget he’d seen them.  Once inside, she turned right at the first corridor, and walked straight to the end.  There, she opened a heavy oak door and entered a dusty apartment.

    The living room was empty, the couches old, the tables dusty.  She smirked as her guard closed the door.

    “Guard the door, Ara.  No one enters,” Almira said.

    Ara gave her a short nod, and drew a dagger from her sleeves.

    Almira headed down a short corridor and entered a large room with laden shelves from top to bottom.  She past two shelves and paused when she saw the old man seated at a table in the middle of the room.

    Teng Heim was older than the great big oak tree growing in her palace courtyard.  Last she’d checked the records, the big oak was over ninety years.  The pristine white hair on Teng Heim’s head was always held in a tight ponytail.  His grey robes older than the great big oak tree…Almira bit back a scoff.  She couldn’t tell what was more mysterious.  How Teng kept his old grey robes intact, or why he walked straighter than the great big oak in her courtyard.

    “Her Majesty in my home, the world is surely at an end.”

    Teng’s voice was strong, and filled with amusement.

    “Perhaps,” Almira said, walking along the closest bookshelf, her finger running over the books on the shelves.

    Old tomes, stories from her father’s time, and her grandfather time, some even older.  Teng sat at the simple table in the middle of the room mixing herbs for his tea.

    “Perhaps the world is simply rearranging itself for the future.  Perhaps, your vision is blurred from all the herbs you drink.”

    “My vision is better than yours, Majesty.  Prince Tailen wants his son on the throne, he has planned his coup for years.  He has made one move and left you defenseless in your palace as though you didn’t see it coming.  Which one of us has poor vision, Head of House Taimeng?”

    “Teng Heim, this Empress has never been defenseless.” Almira scoffed.  “Only pressed into a slight disadvantage, never forget that.”

    “Is the Crown Prince alive?”

    “He lives, as is expected of this Empire’s heir,” Almira said, though a pang of fear filled her chest.  With Namik’s armies matching on the city, she couldn’t be sure Yoshi was still alive.  She had gotten no news.

    “And the funeral?” Teng asked.  “His Highness will think you have abandoned him.”

    “The Phoenix knows my thoughts,” Almira said.  “He has a task to complete.  While I wait for him, I have need of your help, Teng Heim.”

    Teng sipped his tea.

    “What can this old man do for Her Majesty?”

    “The task is not easy.”

    “As is expected from a slightly disadvantaged Empress.”

    “Can I rely on you?”

    Teng Heim stood up from his chair and came around his desk.  He bowed low, his white hair almost touching the polished floors of his library.

    “I serve the House of Taimeng, my slightly-disadvantaged Empress.  That will never changed.”

    Almira straightened to her full height.

    “Then tell me every secret you know about my Palace.”

    ***

    On a bed of rose red sheets, Midori kissed soft skin, his lips tracing a phoenix down to the sharp talons curved around a green coiled branch. He swirled his tongue on the sensitive spot at the small of Yoshi’s back.  His hands moving to cup Yoshi’s cheeks, smiling when Yoshi arched into his touch.  He massaged Yoshi, then urged him up on his knees, so that he was kneeling on the bed.

    Midori palmed his hard cock, lining it up with Yoshi’s entrance.  He slid in fast, eyes closed in pleasure at the feel of Yoshi’s heated depths engulfing him, squeezing him in a tight vice.  He was addicted to this dance they couldn’t seem to stop.  Yoshi moaned, his fingers bunching the sheets, as Midori surged into him, taking him, driving them both into a violent race, seeking release, not wanting the end…the sweetness of their heat addictive, wanting more, and more, Midori curled over Yoshi, running his hands over Yoshi’s back.  His lips on Yoshi’s right shoulder, he took Yoshi’s hard cock in his hand and stroked him.  The resulting moans from Yoshi, enough to bring him close.

    The Prince was hot in his arms, so deliciously hot, he couldn’t get enough.  He wanted more of their heat.  Yoshi came with a harsh cry, and Midori gave in to his own urgent need, gripping Yoshi’s hips tight, he came in hard jerks that sent them both sprawling on the bed.

    Yoshi turned to him minutes later, moving into his arms.  Midori sunk his hair into luxurious silky hair, and accepted Yoshi’s soft kiss.  Then Yoshi’s stomach growled, and he laughed against soft lips.

    “Hungry?” he asked, looking into Yoshi’s embarrassed eyes.

    It seemed unreal to see a Prince blush, especially a Prince he’d watched order armies into battle with a steely gaze.  This Prince, now in his arms.

    Yoshi hid his face in Midori’s chest.

    “I didn’t get to eat much at the banquet.  Sando kept removing the food from the table too fast.”

    Midori kissed Yoshi’s shoulder.

    “I saw,” Midori said, lifting his head slightly from the pillow to check if Sando had followed his instructions.

    There was a table near the windows laden with trays holding fruits, a fowl and a jug of wine.  He smiled.  Sando was the best, he decided.

    “Sando is terrified you will be poisoned under his watch,” Midori said.  “He made sure your food was brought here.”

    Yoshi wrapped his arms around him.

    “But I don’t want to move,” Yoshi said.  “I really like it here.”

    Midori held on to Yoshi for a while, enjoying the moment.  Having Yoshi in his arms, he felt at peace.  Still…the future intruded.  When the war ended, Yoshi would be Crown Prince soon to be Emperor, living in the Palace at Lexin City.  Heir Apparent to the Empire.  His future would be planned, down to the children an Emperor would need to ensure a strong reign.  Yoshi would no longer be his alone.

    “Tomorrow morning,” Yoshi said, interrupting his dark thoughts.  “Will you go for a ride with me?”

    “But—

    “I want to ride with you, Midori,” Yoshi said, lifting his head from Midori’s chest.  Their gazes met and held.  “Not in battle, not because you guard my life, but because you’re my lover.  I want a full hour with you.  Can’t you give me that?”

    Midori sighed, bringing his hand up to cup Yoshi’s jaw.  How could he ever say no to this Prince?

    “Then we’ll go riding,” Midori said with a smile.

    “Good,” Yoshi said, happy.  “Now we can eat, I’m starving.”

    Midori chuckled watching Yoshi jump out of bed.

    “When we’re around people, I need to call you by your title, especially when you become Crown Prince,” Midori said, taking a grape from the tray on the bed between them.  He brought it to Yoshi’s lips and smiled when Yoshi took a bite.

    “No.”  Yoshi chewed the delicious fruit, rubbing his thumb over Midori’s dark beard.  “Just Yoshi.”

    “What about Prince Yoshi?” Midori asked.

    Midori sat with his legs folded.  Yoshi too, though he had some of the sheets draped over his lap.  They were both naked.  Yoshi’s hair gloriously free, settled around him.  Midori played with the strands close to him.

    “No,” Yoshi said.

    Yoshi took a peach, and sliced a piece with his knife.  He fed it to Midori and smiled when Midori held his hand, taking the fruit into his mouth and nipping Yoshi’s thumb.  Midori held Yoshi’s gaze, his fingers wrapped Yoshi’s hand in his, pressing their clasped hands against his chest.

    “Yoshi,” Midori said.

    “Yes,” Yoshi nodded.  “Always use my name, Midori, even when others press you to stop.”

    “What about the Empress?” Midori asked.  “What will she do when she finds out about us?”

    “She will do what makes me happy,” Yoshi said.

    Midori wasn’t so sure.

    “Stop,” Yoshi ordered, his gaze hard.  “Don’t worry yourself about my mother, Midori.”

    Midori nodded and poured wine into one glass.  He took a sip first, then held the goblet to Yoshi’s lips.  Yoshi took a healthy sip, and they both laughed when drops slid own Yoshi’s chin.

    Midori placed the goblet on the tray and leaned to lick away the sweet wine.  He was happier than he dared voice, which was odd considering the war they fought beyond the Furian Forest.  Yet, here on this bed with Yoshi feeding him slices of fruit and drinking wine with him, it almost felt like paradise.

    ***

    yoshi2

  • Crown Prince Yoshi – 10

    Telia caught her first glimpse of the Princess Naria mid battle.  Skirts blazing red, a pair of swords in hand, the Princess fought hard, cutting down the enemy with every move.  There was no wasted motion, only efficient sweeps of her blades.

    Her heart squeezed tight, instinct driving her closer until they fought as a team.  When Namik’s men started a retreat, the Prince redirected the army to stop the fleeing troops.  In one bloody evening, they wiped out the rebel forces that had plagued the Furian Princess for weeks.

    Her sisters called victory, around her, but Telia could only stare at the Princess.  She froze when Naria gave her a smile.

    “You are back,” Naria said in greeting.

    Telia nodded wishing they were alone, and then she could hug Naria as she wished.

    Naria held her gaze giving her a short nod.  “Henna?”

    “She’s safe,” Telia said.  “She travels with the ordinance troops.”

    “Good choice,” Naria said, wiping her blades on her skirts.  Her gaze swept over the Furian women and stopped when she saw the black guard fighting in the fringes of the field.  “You guard him.”

    Telia’s gaze shifted to the Prince’s army.  “He has many who guard him.”

    “Many who want him dead as well,” Naria said her gaze turning speculative as the Black Guard shifted and Prince Yoshi appeared, walking toward them.

    Telia almost sighed as Naria’s soft side disappeared, replaced by the fierce ruler of the Furian Forest.

    Yoshi’s clothes were stained, a smudge of mud on his chin, Telia watched him wipe it off without a thought.  His sword held tight in his right arm, his cloak sweeping the muddy ground.  There was no sign of the unsure man she’d first met running from assassins.

    To her eternal surprise, Princess Naria bowed low as Prince Yoshi reached them.  Telia found herself imitating the gesture, followed by all her Furian sisters on the battlefield.

    “Your Royal Highness,” Naria said.  “Your servant is grateful for the relief.”

    “I have sent half the army after the retreating enemy forces.  They will lock down the border into Fier, and purge resistance,” Yoshi said.

    “I welcome you to the Furian palace,” Naria said straightening to her full height.  “We have much to discuss, and you must be weary from constant travel.”

    Yoshi thanked her with a nod, the simple gesture sending the Black Guard and Naria’s forces into a frenzy of activity.

    “She is beautiful,” Midori said riding beside Telia on their way to the Furian Palace.

    “The Princess,” he said when she glanced at him in question.

    “Yes,” Telia agreed unable to stop the admiration in her voice.  She cleared her throat and stared at the nearest black guard rider.

    Midori gave a long sigh beside her.

    “Wish it was different for us,” he said.  “Caring for such great people is difficult.”

    Telia glared at him.  “I’m not like you.  Your emotions for the Prince are obvious.  You should try to hide it.”

    “Why?” Midori asked chewing on the end of a grass blade.  He winked at her when she continued to glare.  “We’re out here, at war.  Death stalks us with every swing of the blade.  Why should I hide my love, Telia, when it can disappear in a blink of an eye?”

    “Poetry from a warrior,” Telia teased.  “Very well, General, wear your heart on the sleeve for all to see.  It will only bring you pain in the end.  He is not yours to keep.”

    Midori threw the blade of the grass to the ground and gripped his reins.

    “That’s for me to deal with, Furian, just as you must live with your love for the Princess Naria.”

    Telia watched Midori urge his horse forward to join the Prince at the head of the convoy.  Her heart clenched tight as her gaze swept over Princess Naria’s back.  She was a mere warrior, not good enough yet to join the council, and live close to the Princess.  All she could do was watch from afar.

    Watch and wish, she thought with a sigh.

    ***

    Majestic trees grew tall and thick around the Furian Palace.  The walls of the ages old palace turned green from rich moss.  Vivid flowers in every nook and cranny, a brook running through the courtyard carried fresh water into the palace and through the forest to the various homes and settlements belonging to the Furian community.  The Princess’s most trusted guard secured the palace.  Women in pale red tunics managed the palace affairs: cooking, cleaning and repair.

    Yoshi stood in a private portion of the beautiful courtyard, clean again, in fitted dark green trousers, his feet bare on the fresh green grass.  He stared up at the trees above him, the air so clean and pure he could forget there was a war raging around him.  A breeze swept in and he closed his eyes enjoying the solitude.  He took in a deep breath.

    He hadn’t been alone for days.  The black guard, army generals and officers…constant crucial decisions keeping him awake.

    Gentle fingers combed through his loose hair and he opened his eyes, a soft moan escaping when he leaned back and Midori wrapped an arm around him.

    “You’re breathtaking,” Midori whispered in his ear.

    “Did you get your wounds tended?” Yoshi asked, taking in a deep breath.  This time, his nostrils filled with Midori’s clean earthy scent.  He nestled deeper into Midori’s heat.

    “Yes.”  Midori brushed his lips on Yoshi’s left temple.  “I have missed you.”

    Yoshi chuckled.

    “You’ve been with me the whole time.”

    “Not quite,” Midori protested.  “I don’t have you when you’re the Prince.”

    Yoshi shook his head.

    “That doesn’t make sense.”

    “Doesn’t it?” Midori asked, rocking him from side to side.  “I almost wish we could stay here forever.  The Princess Naria can handle the allied forces.”

    “Now who is having wishful thoughts,” Yoshi teased, turning so that he could face Midori.  His breath hitched at the sight of him.

    Midori wore a red tunic over his perpetual black trousers, his wavy hair falling around his shoulders.  He too was barefoot.

    Midori cupped Yoshi’s jaw, his thumb tracing over Yoshi’s lower lip, before he leaned down and kissed him.

    Yoshi closed his eyes, leaning up to pull Midori’s head down, wanting to keep the contact.  He opened his mouth letting Midori explore his mouth.  Yoshi took in his heat, his scent and taste, savoring, memorizing.  His arms wrapped around Midori, he lost himself in the sensation of their kiss.  He never wanted to stop.

    A soft cough penetrated the haze of growing need.  Midori broke the kiss reluctantly; Yoshi buried his face into Midori’s shoulder for a moment, and then sneaked a glance over Midori’s shoulder to see Sando standing a few feet away.

    “I apologize for the intrusion, your Royal Highness,” Sando said, his cheeks flaming red.

    Yoshi laughed into Midori’s shoulder.  “Sando, you’ve seen me naked before.  You dare blush at one kiss.”

    Sando looked down.  “It is not that, my Prince.”

    “What then?” Yoshi asked still clinging to Midori.

    Sando shook his head.  “Nothing, My Prince, I came to help you get ready for the banquet.  The Princess Naria is throwing one in your honor.”

    “We are at war.  Who has time for banquets?”

    Yoshi complained, holding on to Midori for a moment before he let go with a sigh.

    “Banquets are battle grounds too, My Prince,” Midori said.

    “I’ve asked you to use my name,” Yoshi chided.  “Please don’t deny me that.”

    “Yoshi,” Midori said with a small smile.

    Yoshi blushed and caught Sando staring at him.

    “What?”

    “Nothing,” Sando said quickly.

    “I will have you flogged if you keep saying nothing.”  Yoshi scowled.

    “You won’t do it,” Sando said with a quick grin.  “Come, My Prince, you must get ready.  Princess Naria will be waiting.”

    Yoshi grumbled under his breath, not ready to leave Midori’s side.

    “If you like, General,” Sando said.  “I can have your dress robes brought to the Prince’s chamber.”

    Yoshi glanced at Midori, his gaze hopeful.

    When Midori gave Sando a short nod, Yoshi smiled, happy they weren’t going to lose any time together.

    ***

    Midori caught up with Sando thirty minutes later while Yoshi talked to the head of the Black Guard about the evening ahead.  Gripping the slender servant’s arm, he stood so that his gaze was on the Prince.

    “Why does he ask me to call him by name?”

    Sando started to glance back at the Prince, but Midori stopped him.

    “He will be suspicious if you look at him.  I need to know.”

    “General,” Sando started.

    “Don’t make me force it out of you.  Unlike the Prince, I have no problem inflicting pain,” Midori warned.

    “Palace rules,” Sando said.  “The moment the Empress turned over her power to the Prince, he became the father of the nation.  The Empire’s parent….” Sando gave him a smile.  “No one will ever call him by name, not even the Empress.”

    Midori stared at Yoshi then.

    “He got lonely as the Prince,” Sando said.  “I imagine his loneliness will only increase from now on.”

    Midori let go of Sando and watched him hurry away.

    Yoshi finished with the head of the black guard and walked to him.  Yoshi looked royal in a brilliant red tunic that was embroidered with gold string on long wide sleeves.  The tight gold clip on top of Yoshi’s head held his hair, restricting it again.  Midori wished he could remove it and comb his fingers through the soft silk.

    “Naria invited her council to the banquet,” Yoshi said, his honeyed gaze thoughtful.  “Her council will seek political seats in the Amana government.  The Empress has long battled the leaders of the Quads, but they have refused to grant the Furians these positions.  The argument is that the Furians are a spiritual faction.  No one wants to deal with their ideologies.  I’m not sure I can change that for Naria’s people.”

    “I told you the banquet is a battle front,” Midori said, caressing Yoshi’s jaw.  “The only thing you need to concentrate on is getting her people to agree to fight with you against Namik.”

    “She is my aunt,” Yoshi said with a frown.  “When she looks at me, she still sees the little boy who grew up begging her for her best horse.”

    Midori pressed a chaste kiss on Yoshi’s lips.

    “Have faith, Yoshi.”

    The smile that graced Yoshi’s lips at the sound of his name set Midori’s heart skating.

    ***