Page 94 of The Orc Warrioress and the Elf Lord

“Because everyone knows that my father doesn’t pay attention to anything at all,” said Iahir. “Everyone knows that my father has been obsessed with curing my mother, to the detriment of everything else, for some time.”

“Really?” she said. “So, who rules Cirlahir?”

“Oh, he fulfills his responsibilities,” said Iahir. “He hires people, mostly, to do things that need done. If he is convinced he must turn his attention to something else besides his laboratory, he is often angry, and he often does something retaliatory. People are frightened of him. He has resources and power, and he does not like to be bothered.”

She nodded. She sort of understood. “You’re the heir.”

“Everyone calls me the heir,” he said. “But my brother is the heir.”

“Your brother is older than you,” she said.

He nodded.

“But you just said that your mother lost all attachment to reality after your brother’s breach birth—”

“Yes.”

“So, that means your father…” But she didn’t finish the sentence.

“Oh, I believe that’s still happening,” said Iahir. “Not that I like to think about it, but yes, I think… I quite think…” He shook himself.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“No, no, you don’t have to do that,” he said.

She drew in a breath, going back to what she was saying earlier. “So, your father does not prepare you to be the heir or allow you to assume any responsibilities here because he is convinced that he is going to cure your brother, and he will take over as the envivtain. Instead, he ships you off to be on the kingsguard, as if you are a second son, which, technically, you are.”

“Quite,” said Iahir. “But everyone knows how it really is. People are frightened of my father, but they think he is mad.”

“And by extension, they think you are mad, as well,” she said.

He nodded. “You did not see this before?”

“I don’t think I understood,” she said.

A long pause.

He bowed his head, shutting his eyes.

“You don’t speak of this because you’re ashamed,” she said softly.

He smirked. “I don’t speak of this because I don’t know how.” He lifted his head and let the hand that had been tangled into his hair drop. “Let us cease to speak of it. Let us go to bed.”

She eyed him. “So, why do you do these imprudent and outrageous things, Iahir, if not for the attention of your father? Because it is obviously impossible to get his attention, is it not?”

“It is,” he said. “Why do I do them?” He lifted his shoulders. “I think it is for attention, just not his. I used to get attention from, erm, nannies and tutors and other people who would scold me and… and pity me? That sounds rather pathetic. I am a pathetic creature, however. Pity is not what I truly wish people to feel for me, but I suppose it’s better than nothing.”

She eyed him. “But that doesn’t really explain why you killed the High King. Because that act would not make people pity you.”

“No, I know,” he said. “I don’t know… I did not set out to make people pity me, Gathren. It was not conscious. I suppose, however, I must have been in the habit of being outrageous because it made people look at me and then eventually they would feel sorry for me, and I… So, I just got in the habit of doing it, always doing it, and this was the most outrageous thing I could possibly do.”

That actually made sense. She understood. And she knew, too, that it wasn’t pity he wanted. It was, well, love. But she didn’t think anyone had ever really loved Iahir nae Cirlahir, and she wondered what that might have done to him. She went to him, putting her hand against his cheek.

He caught her wrist and looked into her eyes. “Why did you do it, Gathren?”

“I wanted…” She gave him a crooked smile. “Glory, as you said, my lord. I think I wanted glory.”

“We are both idiots,” he said.