Divided (27 page)

Calis chuckled darkly, and then leaned Taeru gently against
the horse as he climbed on top of it.  Taeru had the fleeting thought that
Calis might leave him, but then the blond extended a hand dutifully.  “Why were
you following me?” Taeru asked in a worried voice.

“I told you—I like you,” Calis said without hesitation or
hidden intent.  Or, no hidden intent that Taeru could distinguish. 

With much effort from both of them, Calis managed to pull
Taeru gradually up onto the white stallion.  Taeru noted dismally that the
creature looked much more majestic than the other horses that the nobles rode. 
Calis’s looked like a warhorse.  The feeling of being on a horse after so long
was disorienting.  He was sure that he still knew how to ride, but his head
hurt and he didn’t want to worry with proper form.

Though, the feeling of Calis’s arms around his waist was
causing his teeth to grind together.  He was sure that the Telandan prince was
doing this intentionally.  The prince had to know that his arms were in more of
an embrace than a support.  This would make perfect sense—though why Calis
would choose a male at random to try and seduce was a bit perplexing.  In fact,
it made no sense at all.  Taeru must have been imagining it—though, he hadn’t
ruled out the idea that Calis was using him for some sort of information.

He had to accept that Calis’s arms were just naturally this
protective.  Calis was not attempting to make Taeru light-headed and
off-balance.  No, that was due entirely to Taeru’s own foolishness.  Then,
Calis spoke into his ear—though Taeru tried to convince himself that this
wasn’t intentional, either.

The two of them just happened to be in very close quarters,
as it was impossible to ride together on a horse without being pressed against
one another.  Taeru was in front of Calis, so his hands fumbled for reins that
Calis already held.  “I’ve got you,” Calis said gently.  Too gently.  Tsrali
princes did not speak in gentle tones.

Taeru found himself a little irritated at the prince’s
statement as well.  Calis did have him, and there was nothing Taeru could do to
defend himself if he was carted off to the Tsrali doorstep.  With another
moment, the horse began to move forward.  Calis had to steer the horse, which
he did with experience held only after years of practice, so that it turned and
was able to move itself out of the alley.

The statement the prince had made about the streets being
deserted was fairly accurate, but Calis kept true to his word and moved off the
main streets after another moment.  A white destrier was not easy to hide in
the middle of Dark District, but when Calis had said that he knew the streets well—he
had not lied.  They moved through them easily, and through deserted areas. 
Most of the areas were ones that Taeru used when changing into or out of his
Phantom Blade outfit.

The horse moved with steady strides, and to Taeru’s
surprise, he wasn’t jostled in the least.  He had half expected to be thrown
about like some sort of ragdoll—mostly because he expected that the prince
would be riding very quickly, and he was not.  All the while, Calis kept a firm
hand around Taeru’s abdomen, while the other held the reins of his horse. 
“You’re afraid of me,” Calis spoke without a question.

There was no denying that point, and even Taeru was aware of
how tense he was beneath Calis’s grip.  He knew that most of it could be
contributed to fear, and he wasn’t about to tell the prince that the other bit
of it was due to unbridled attraction.  “You’re a Tsrali,” Taeru said stiffly,
“and… there are certain associations with that name.”

To Taeru’s surprise, the prince that held him chuckled
lightly.  Taeru noticed that the other man, Lee, had dropped steadily back, and
was now several paces behind them.  He was still there, though, looking
bemused.  “Associations, are there?” Calis asked pointedly.

Taeru fervently wished that he didn’t feel so bloody awkward
on this horse’s back.  He felt silly—and helpless—and many other things that he
did not enjoy feeling.  Meanwhile, the rider of the horse seemed perfectly at
ease.  “Yes,” Taeru answered pithily.

“Did you know that, Lee?  There are apparently associations
attached with being a Tsrali!” the fake shock in his voice only insulted Taeru
further.  His teeth ground together as he stared at the ground.  He wished
Calis would run back to Juliet’s—or whatever foul location to which Taeru was
being taken.  He’d rather be beaten than whatever this was.

Lee laughed, and the laugh was not one of mockery—in fact,
Calis’s friend seemed genuinely amused at the situation.  “I hadn’t the
slightest.”

At that moment, there was a change in the air—a stillness
that Taeru couldn’t place the reason for, and Calis spoke with sincerity.  “I
apologize for my brother.  I’d apologize for all the nobles, but I’m hardly
close enough to them for that to mean anything, and I doubt you would take it
to heart.”

The words shocked Taeru, but he’d convinced himself that
this prince wasn’t going to do anything predictably.  “There is no reason for
you to apologize.”

“I think there is,” Calis disagreed immediately, “my brother
has hurt you before, I would wager.”  There was that undercurrent of anger that
Taeru felt himself frightened of and drawn to concurrently. 

This seemed like a delicate topic.  Of course Tareth had
hurt Taeru.  He had hurt Kilik, in attempts to get him to admit to being the
Phantom Blade, as he had done to every able-bodied man in Dark District, and he
had found ways to injure Taeru as the Phantom Blade.  Still, Taeru was
contented not to blame the blond’s brother for anything.

Taeru knew his cheeks were burning, and he wished fervently
that there was anything he could do about it.  This situation was the opposite
of what he had anticipated when he’d left Juliet’s this sun, in fact, if he’d
foreseen it—he may have let the healer go herself.  Not because of his
injuries, but because of the strange feelings Calis’s firm arm was inspiring in
him.

“Have you ridden a horse before, Kilik?” Calis asked after a
moment of silence, likely when he realized that he wasn’t going to get a remark
on Tareth.

For a moment, Taeru thought of blatantly lying.  No, surely
there was a reason the prince was asking him, and he didn’t want to be caught
in an obvious lie.  “Why?” he asked warily.

“You hold yourself rather well, and you don’t seem to have
any trouble moving with Talon.  That tells me that you’ve ridden before.”  If
nothing else, Calis was being rather up front with him, which was more than
Taeru could say for himself.  Then again, Taeru was in no position to hurt
Calis.

Letting out a breath, he responded honestly.  He didn’t
intend to answer any further, but there was no harm in admitting that he’d
ridden a horse.  “I have,” he said.

“I assume the last time you rode there was not an overly
dressed prince sitting behind you?” Calis asked, and the teasing was almost
enough to make Taeru smile.  He didn’t know why, but a smile actually tried to
force its way onto his lips and he forced it away.

He blinked instead, glaring at the ground as if it had
wronged him terribly.  “No, there was not,” he answered with too many words.

Finally, as Calis seemed contented to ride in silence, and
Taeru felt some nagging need to start a conversation—as their correspondence up
until this point had been rather flat, and Taeru was to blame for that, Taeru
managed to speak.  “I… why did you help me?” he asked.  “Why did you… lie to
me?”

For a moment, Calis didn’t answer, and Taeru thought that he
was returning the favor.  After all, Calis would have been perfectly within his
bounds to ignore Taeru’s question entirely.  Then, though, he spoke.  “Trips to
Dark District are looked upon with scorn by my father, and the other nobles. 
Not that I care much for what they think of me, but I’d rather not trouble
myself by having to answer their questions.  I could have told you the truth at
the dance, but I hardly think you would have continued speaking to me.”

Taeru, admittedly, would not have continued talking to
Calis.  He didn’t want to do so now, but as the prince had saved his life—thrice,
the matter wasn’t really up for debate.  “The moon I met you,” Taeru said,
“there was a ball.  It was in your honor.  Did you miss it?”

“I went briefly,” Calis answered, and this time his answer
was prompt.  “But, my father is overbearing, and so are the women.  So, when a
friend of mine told me that there was some sort of festival in Dark District, I
found a way to leave the ball.  The nobles in Telandus are far too absorbed in
themselves to notice when someone leaves—even the guest of honor.”  His words
were so real that Taeru felt his defenses falling.

The injured boy quickly attempted to reconstruct them, as
this might be precisely what someone who was hoping to gain his trust would
want.  Nevertheless, Taeru knew that feeling—he knew what it was like to stand
in a fancy ballroom and want nothing more than to find an escape.  “I suppose
that makes sense,” he finally said.

“I’m surprised,” Calis said, “normally Dark District
citizens are very taken with the idea of a ball.  The fact that you would
understand the need to get away from one is both surprising—and somehow
expected, Kilik.”  Calis’s voice didn’t hint that he had any information on who
Taeru really was—but it did say that he thought Taeru was withholding
information from him.

Taeru didn’t say anything, not wanting to give any more
information to this overly observant prince.  “I, ah… appreciate your help,”
Taeru said.  As his defenses had fallen, and they had not gone back up easily,
he could feel the pain from the blows to his jaw.  Blood loss was beginning to
make itself known, and when he looked at his injured side, the red that had
coated his shirt made him dizzy.

“I ought to return,” Lee said abruptly.  “The sun grows low,
and if I am not present to make excuses for you—I fear your father may come to
suspect that you are no better than your scoundrel of a brother.”  Lee’s words
were light, and Taeru felt himself reassured by the strange camaraderie between
the two nobles.

“I’ll see you soon, Lee,” Calis said without question. 
Another noble might have asked why the other man was running off, as the excuse
was certainly not a good one, but Calis didn’t seem concerned.

Lee smiled, and his horse stopped.  “Don’t linger, my
friend, lest you wear out our injured associate’s patience.”  After another
laugh, Taeru glanced back to see the brown horse stopping and turning.  Upon
looking, Taeru realized why Calis had commented on Lee’s riding style.  His
horse walked with high steps, a very sophisticated style.  “It was a pleasure
to meet you officially, Kilik,” Lee added belatedly.

“Ah, yes, you too,” Taeru answered awkwardly.  He would have
worked harder to be kind, but his head was swimming.  He wasn’t even sure where
they were, and if the two of them had taken him somewhere remote to kill him—he
would have been entirely unaware.

In another few moments, though, Taeru was aware that the
horse came to a stop.  When he blinked his eyes, trying to get a better grasp
on his surroundings, he noticed then that they were standing outside Juliet’s
house.  His mind told him that he needed to get down, but he wasn’t sure how
this was going to go with his injured leg.

When he attempted to move off the horse, though, those firm
arms caught him again.  Calis spoke worriedly.  “Stop, let me help you.” 

What an absurdly kind thought, Taeru found himself
thinking.  Surely, this blond was not a true Tsrali, and if he was, then he
must have spent the last five years learning how to act beyond the skills of
any theatre performer. 

The hands kept Taeru on the horse as the man behind him
dismounted with an absurd amount of grace.  When Taeru glanced down, and his
vision returned properly for a moment, he realized just how fanciful the prince
looked.  He wore the black and crimson colors of House Tsrali.  His uniform was
black, and the red that inlaid through the shoulders and down the front of the
shirt was just a shade lighter than crimson.

The prince’s gloves were the same red.  He was wearing a
black and red tunic that hugged his body, showing off that charm was not the
only attractive feature about him.  His pants were just as form-fitting, black
and red, and they gave way to his black boots midway down his calf.  The entire
outfit seemed imbued with crimson light so that when the light caught it, it
seemed to shine, as though he had blood on his clothes. 

His blond hair contrasted with the outfit, though it seemed
more pronounced because of it—just as his pale skin did.  He was entirely
striking, and Taeru knew that if Tareth ever stood next to this man, that he
must feel infinitely inferior.

Taeru knew the feeling right now.  He flushed for a moment
before letting out a breath.  Calis’s hand was outstretched, and he was clearly
offering to help Taeru off the horse.  Taeru worked his mind on how to land
without causing much damage to his leg.  He gritted his teeth and started to
pull himself off the horse.  In a moment of utter irrationality, Taeru tried
pull himself down with little more than Calis’s hand for help.

His legs would have hit the ground with enough force to make
him cry out, if Calis had not turned his body and swooped Taeru up into his
arms, in a position where Taeru’s head was at the prince’s shoulder.  Blood
rushed to his face, and he felt shock slam into his chest.  Then, the shock
gave way to a sort of disorientation as his vision blurred.  To his dismay,
Taeru whimpered faintly.

Taeru was sure that Calis had muttered something in
response, but being unable to pull his consciousness back to him—Taeru wasn’t
sure what.  He
was
able to think how stunned Alyx and Juliet were going
to be when they saw Calis.