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Authors: Rae Brooks

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BOOK: Divided
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“You can’t give me an answer!  You can’t!  Because the war
is going to get us killed—the war is going to ruin Tel—”  The other voice was
abruptly cut off by a cracking sound, and Aela winced against it.  She
considered cracking open the door to get a glimpse of what had happened.

As voices sounded down the hall, though, Aela was forced to
back away from the door.  Leif’s eyes widened and he pulled her further down
the hall.  After a few moments, the two people that came into view were a young
lady in a white, lacy dress, and an older woman in a blue satin dress.  Just as
they reached the door that Aela had been standing at, it opened and one of the
men stepped out.

He was tall, and the younger woman brightened upon seeing
him.  Their greeting was brief, and the young man clearly intended to walk
around her.  She spoke, though, almost desperately.  “Prince Calis.” 
Calis? 
Oh no. 
The boy had passed the pair of women, but he turned to look at her
when she called.  “Are you alright?  You don’t look well, your highness.”

The face was the very one that Aela had already seen.  The
young man was tall, blond, and with blue-green eyes that held almost no traces
of blue at the moment.  He looked frustrated, and she was sure there was a red
mark on the side of his face.  “I’m fine, my lady.  I assure you.”  Aela’s
heart contorted and she closed her eyes, glancing to Leif.

Her companion was simply watching as discreetly as he
could.  “You’re going?” the lady persisted.  Her voice was so quivery, as if
she were about to cry right in front of the young prince. 

“I am,” Calis said, without hesitation.  “I wasn’t supposed
to see you, was I, Miss Avyon?”

The woman seemed a little taken aback, but then she shook
her head fervently.  “No, I was here to see your mother.  We were going to have
tea.”  Her explanation seemed to be more about making him remain where he was
for another moment, than having anything to do with informing him of her
plans. 

“Ah,” he said, and his voice was still stiff, “well, I ought
to be going, then.  I do hope you have a lovely time.”  His words were so fake
that Aela cringed.  This woman seemed genuinely interested in the prince, and
he was showing none.  The same prince that was stringing her brother along. 
Aela’s fists clenched at the thought.  The bastard.  Here he was, in the
castle, with his fancy, black outfit, looking precisely as a prince should.  He
had the golden tassels, the crimson flourishes along his pants and chest, and
the ceremonious sword that hung from his belt.  He was a prince, and he was a
liar.  A Tsrali.  A Tsrali was playing her brother, and to what end, she
wondered?

She would warn Taeru, even if she didn’t tell him who she
was.  She would return to Dark District and make her brother understand whom he
was really seeing.  Still, though, she remembered the way Taeru had looked at
the prince—no matter how quickly she returned to him, he would be hurt by this. 

The prince started away again, and she watched him, just as
the other man in the room stepped into the hallway.  Lavus was broader than
Calis, though just as tall.  He wasn’t a huge man, but he had an imposing
presence.  Aela knew she didn’t like him, though that could have been Veyron’s
influence.  No—no she was fairly certain that she just didn’t like this man at
all.  “Calis,” the man said venomously, “Miss Avyon is your fiancé—surely you
do not presume to walk away from her without a proper acknowledgement.”

His words were frightening, and there was a threat in them. 
But Aela didn’t care—she didn’t care if this man beat Calis until he couldn’t
see.  Calis Tsrali was a liar.  Not only was he lying about his identity, but
his entire relationship with Taeru was wrong.  Fiancé!  The bastard was
engaged, so why did he deem it necessary to bring poor Taeru into the
equation?  And to think, Taeru had been so smitten with Calis.

Though, looking back on the scene, Calis had seemed just as,
if not more, smitten with Taeru.  How had the prince learned to act so well? 
Then again, all nobles were trained to lie from birth.  She watched as Calis
stepped forward, and with a rather awkward smile, he grabbed his fiancé’s
offered hand and kissed it.  “A pleasure, as always, darling,” he said lowly,
and he snarled the last word.  Wow, he was unhappy, Aela realized.

Poor Miss Avyon—she seemed entirely at a loss for what to
do.  Calis, for his part, took his leave without so much as another glance at
his father.  Aela glanced at Leif, who had his eyes closed in pain. 

They needed to get back to Dark District.  Immediately. 
Aela had a book to read far more thoroughly. 

 

“Charm and finesse are the beginnings of every villain.”

-A Hero’s Peace v.i

Chapter xxxii
Tareth Tsrali

The fight had been unexpected—surely, Calis had never been
as submissive to Lavus as the rest of the castle, but never before had the
crown prince outwardly spoken against Lavus’s feelings.  Perhaps he had a
point, too, Tareth thought idly.  After all, it seemed that the war was a lost
cause.  He had never cared about that, though—Lavus could do what Lavus wanted
to do, and Tareth would find a way to survive.

His survival was really all he’d come to care about.  Lavus
had made certain that Tareth was irrelevant in every way, so Tareth made sure
that everything was irrelevant to him, except himself.  The tradeoff seemed
fair, and it wasn’t as though Tareth was going to be named the king.  Or
perhaps he was—he thought.  Watching Lavus raise his hand to Calis, and
actually strike him, had been one of the most thrilling moments of Tareth’s
bland life.

Naturally, Calis hadn’t given much reaction.  Tareth would
have preferred if Calis had shown some sign that the blow had hurt.  There
wasn’t any doubt that it had, but Calis’s composure was infallible.  The more
important note Tareth made as the two men left the room, though—was that Calis
had the gall to speak out against their father.

Something, and Tareth wasn’t entirely sure what, had given
his older brother enough motivation to do what he’d done.  That sort of thing
could get Calis killed, Tareth thought amusedly.  Though, Calis had understood
fairly quickly after the strike across his cheek that it was a lost cause.  Still,
now Tareth had a means to hurt his brother—if he could find whatever had given
Calis that thought and exploit it.  All he would have to do was push Calis far
enough so that he infuriated Lavus so immensely that their father had his
brother killed.

Lavus would certainly not be above the idea of hanging his
own son.  The grin that twisted onto Tareth’s lips at the idea was
invigorating.  He’d never considered that Calis would be foolish enough to open
himself up to this.  Apparently he was, though, or something had made him. 
Tareth was willing to bet it had everything to do with how his elder brother
disappeared during most suns.  Where was he going, Tareth wondered?  After all,
none of the nobles to whom Tareth spoke had seen or heard from his brother. 
Calis was doing something completely uninvolved with the people with whom Lavus
considered important enough to associate.  Unfortunately, that didn’t leave
many people with which to talk.  Of course, there
were
people in the
Shining District that Lavus didn’t like, and that Tareth would have
intentionally avoided.

Those could have been the people to persuade Calis into his
foolishness.  Though, there could easily have been another reason entirely for
it.  Tareth had no way of figuring that out, and if he was going to exploit his
brother—then he would have to do so effectively.  If he did so without Lavus’s
permission, though, their father would no more listen to him than a peasant
from Dark District. 

There was the possibility of talking to Calis, of trying to
figure out through word of mouth what had caused him to react this way.  No,
his brother was far too smart to be tricked in that way.  Tareth wasn’t a fool,
and he knew his brother far too well to know that simpleton mind games would
not work on him.  No, Calis would require a much different approach, if there
was going to be any success.

Ask Lavus.  Tell Lavus you understand the need to know
what has gotten into your brother… You have his permission, and then he will
listen to everything you say.  At last, your father will consider you the
better son.

The thought came, unbidden, into his mind.  He was sure that
he
hadn’t formed the thought.  He had known the direction of his own
thoughts, and that had not been it.  The idea was sound, though—more than
sound.  Lavus would certainly want to keep an eye on Calis, and what better way
to do it than to keep it in the family?  Still, though, the strangeness of the
thought, and the voice through which it had been spoken haunted him for a
moment.

He wasn’t used to enacting thoughts that hadn’t been firmly researched
or meticulously considered.  Well, unless he was with a woman, or a peasant from
Dark District.  A grin spread across his face at the thought.  Still, he would
speak with Lavus—he would obtain the privilege of spying for his father.  That
way, his words would have merit.  He would be commended for going directly to
their father, rather than scuttling about. 

The thought, no matter how strange it was, was exactly what
he needed.  Tareth had his course of action, and he intended to take it.  He
would go through Lavus—not Calis.  Calis would never be persuaded to make a
fool of himself, unless whatever had caused him to act as he had was discovered
and exploited.  Whatever caused his outburst must have been relevant to
him—more than relevant.  Tareth had a sneaking suspicion that Calis was hiding
more than a few thoughts. 

The way the crown prince handled Miss Avyon had declined
rapidly in the past few suns.  Calis was still his charming self, to be sure,
but he wasn’t quite as charming as he could have been.  In moments of weakness,
Tareth could see the distaste in the inexpressive green eyes of his brother. 
He had seen that Calis was not happy.  Then, there was the fact that when he
wasn’t in Miss Avyon’s presence, Calis truly did seem happy.  Tareth had
originally thought that Calis was simply being obtuse, pretending not to be
interested in the lovely Miss Avyon, when he was secretly thrilled to be
engaged to her. 

And yet since the engagement, Calis had become increasingly
aloof around the castle.  There had been moments, when he returned from his
daily activities, that Tareth could see traces of that happiness that he’d
wanted to ruin.  Wherever Calis was going was making him happy, and that
happiness was keeping him from being as perfect as he had been for so long. 
Tareth knew that—and Tareth would have to find a way to seize that happiness
and turn it into weakness.

Surely that couldn’t be so difficult.  After all, Lavus had
always spoken about emotions being the precursor to any strong man’s downfall. 
And now, emotions were the very thing that Calis seemed to be portraying so
readily.  For so long, Tareth had watched his brother from afar—unsure what the
prince was thinking or seeing—and lately, there had been expressions on his
face.  There had been light in his eyes that showed just a tiny glimpse into
his thoughts.

So what had put the light there? 

Perhaps Lavus was wondering the same thing, and if he
wasn’t, then Tareth would look all the wiser for informing him of it.  The grin
remained on Tareth’s face as he exited the meeting room, heading for the throne
room where his father would surely have gone.  Calis was gone, and the hallway
was deserted.  Tareth wasn’t sure to where Lady Avyon had vanished, but he did
hope that his brother wasn’t with her.  The more time the two of them were
apart, the stronger Tareth’s case was.

Oh, the satisfaction of seeing his perfect, older brother hanged
pounded against his mind like an unending drum.  He hadn’t ever even considered
it possible, and yet now he was staring the opportunity in the face.  Whatever
this weakness, be it good or bad for the kingdom, Tareth would turn it into such
a festering wound that the only solution would be to end his poor brother’s
life.

As he entered the throne room, the cold eyes of his father
instantly sobered him.  Once again, his fear set in and he found himself
struggling for words.  But he had to act now, lest his father put someone else
on the assignment.  “Father,” he said, with a very low bow.  The more
respectful he was now, the easier it would be to see the contrast between
himself and his unruly older brother.  This was the moment he’d dreamed of his
entire life, and he wasn’t going to let fear ruin it.

Oh, what would Claudia say?  No, he couldn’t tell her. 
Though, she had always wanted to kill Lavus—she had never spoken ill of her
other son.  She would surely be distraught that Tareth wanted to see his
brother hanged.  So, she must be left out of this equation for now, until the
weakness could be shown to her, and to everyone, as a disease.  “What is it,
brat?” his father’s voice boomed through the room.

He worked to ignore the insult.  Insulted before he’d even
truly spoken, but he would change that.  He would become the good son.  He
would become the king.  For, after Calis was out of the picture, then he would
focus his attentions on destroying his paranoid father.  “I wanted, perhaps, to
make a suggestion to your majesty.” 

His father stared at him.  The eyes were so cruel, so
calculating, as they observed him.  The eyes were more like those of an
Inquisitor, not of a father.  Lavus had never been much of a father to anyone,
except possibly Calis.  Even then, the fatherliness had been lacking.  It had
always been a political relationship, where Lavus let Calis know he was
pleased.  Well, Tareth intended to take that relationship for his own.  “Speak,
before I throw you out of my throne room, you sniveling child.”

Clenching his fists against the abuse, Tareth offered a
brief nod.  “Seeing how Calis has been so recently indisposed, I was hoping,”
he conveyed ‘hoping’ with the utmost sincerity, “that you might allow me to
investigate what he has been doing.  It seems to be having ill effects on him,
my lord, and I think you can agree.”

With every word, Tareth’s confidence grew.  And with every
word, Lavus seemed more interested in what Tareth was saying.  “You? 
Investigate your brother?  He’d find you out in an instant, you foolish
varlot.”

Tareth’s eye twitched, but he kept the cool charm on his
face when he continued.  “Ordinarily, certainly, father, but I propose that
Calis has been vexed by something.  I propose that he is not himself, and thus
I ought to pursue the matter.”

“Vexed by what?” Lavus asked flatly.  His eyes were sparking
with suspicion, which meant that Tareth had hit the mark.  Lavus thought just
as well as anyone else that Calis was being affected negatively by whatever he
had been doing recently. 

A quick breath, and Tareth cleared his throat to continue
with more force.  “I’m unsure, my lord.  Surely, you realize that he has spent
more and more time away from the castle, with people that surely have been
negatively influencing him.  I propose that you allow me to pursue the issue,
determine what has caused his current effrontery, and eradicate it.  Surely he
will see it as a favor,” Tareth purred.

And when he doesn’t, you will be too angry not to
sentence him to death.

Lavus drummed his fingers along the black mantle of his
throne.  His eyes were dancing with consideration, which Tareth had never seen
them do to one of his own requests.  This was working already.  “That is
actually a good idea, son.  Perhaps you are finally beginning to come into your
own.  Far too late, mind you, but that doesn’t mean that we should disregard
developing intelligence.  I will be most pleased if you are able to complete
the task without incident.”  His words lacked their usual hatefulness.  Tareth
worked to keep the smirk from spreading over his face too early.

Instead, he bowed another low bow, putting as much
humbleness into his countenance as he could possibly bear.  Knowing Lavus, he
surely wanted more, but Tareth could only be pushed so far in his efforts.  He
still believed, after all, that he was superior to his father.  Or would be, at
the end of all this.  “I am honored by your approval, Father.  I will ensure
that his insurrection is met with the utmost efficiency.”

“See that you do.  Tell no one of this,” Lavus said sharply,
“you are to carry out this task on your own and without assistance.  Report
only to me, and if I find that you have disclosed this to anyone, or allowed
anyone to find out, then I promise swift and effective punishment.”

“Of course, your grace.” 

With a quick turn, he headed back towards the door of the
throne room.  Soon, he would wait for Calis to return, and then he would
proceed to follow his brother.  He would find out the source of this weakness,
and he would squeeze it until Calis whimpered for mercy on the floor.

BOOK: Divided
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