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Mikol glanced over at Ryan, who shook his head. “No,” Ryan said firmly. “I don’t believe in forced pregnancy. Not ever. He doesn’t have to. Not at all if he hates the idea. Your father talked me into it, and believe me, it wasn’t easy to sell me on it either, but for us, things were different. He will always have the option of adoption or surrogacy, which is perfectly fine.”
Mikol glanced down at the image again. “I think from looking at him, he would hate the idea of being forced to do anything. I’d never do that to him.”
Ryan nodded. “Good. And I think so too. But in time, he might hate the idea of someone else having your child even more. That’s what happened with Blake and Davos. Anyway, you’ll have time to figure it out. There’s no rush.”
“Has he agreed to any of this?”
“His uncle has. Kalen’s agreement is not required,” Mikos replied.
“It is for me, Father. I won’t force someone into marriage with me either.”
“I agree,” Ryan said softly.
Mikos huffed out a breath. “It won’t come to that. The boy will certainly see the honor and the opportunity he’s being offered. To become the consort of the heir to the Tygerian throne and the entire Supreme Axis Empire is not something most reasonable people would turn away from. He’ll realize how much benefit such a thing will be to his people. If he loves his army as much as he says he does, he’ll see that training with our forces will only enhance their skills.”
“If you say so,” Mikol said, handing the communicator back to his father after glancing down at it one last time. “But he looks pretty damned stubborn to me.”
Chapter Three
Kalen, who had slept very little following the ceremonies of the previous day, lay in his bed suffering from the worst hangover he’d ever had the next morning. Worst of all—even worse than the spike someone had apparently hammered into the side of his head—he knew he probably could have handled things a lot better the night before.
A shocked silence had struck the great hall immediately after Kalen’s little speech. All eyes turned toward him, and though most of those present were his uncle’s followers, he saw some of his own most loyal friends looking a bit horrified as well, not to mention embarrassed for Kalen, which was maybe even worse.
Kalen’s father had been a wise man, and he had told him many times that he should never let his temper get the better of him. He also should never, under any circumstances, have openly signaled his feelings and intentions to his enemies so clearly. Yet with that one insult to his uncle, Kalen had thrown down what amounted to a declaration of war. He had tipped his uncle off to the fact that he was ready and willing to fight him on every issue, including the leadership of the planet, and that he would never be controlled. Not by his uncle, not by the King’s Council, not by some Tygerian prince, not by anybody, damn it.
And by doing so, he might have just signed his own fucking death warrant.
Surprisingly, it had been Nerol who defused the tense situation the night before. He had immediately stood up and held out his hand to his new wife. Queen Brandalla had turned a dull red but rose quickly and allowed him to pull her with him as they came to stand beside Kalen. Nerol threw his arm around Kalen’s shoulder and embraced him when they came close, even as Kalen tried his best to throw him off. Nerol quickly stepped away before it became too obviously embarrassing and addressed the crowd in a loud, booming voice.
“Our son has had too much to drink tonight, I think. And like all young men, he may be a little reluctant to commit to marriage, which has a way of calming boys down and curbing their more reckless impulses.” He paused for a few uneasy laughs. “Things I believe Kalen has just proven he has in abundance.” He removed his arm and stepped back, not flinching even a little at the murderous scowl on Kalen’s face.
“Come now, friends, drink up. This is a celebration. We are done with mourning, and we have to move on for the good of Loros.”
“My mother is certainly doing her part,” Kalen said loudly enough that all those around him, heard him quite plainly. Queen Brandalla, turned her head away as ugly red splotches rose slowly again from her neck to stain her cheeks. Tears sprang to her eyes and trembled on her eyelashes. She wouldn’t look at Kalen. Just as well—the knot of pain in his chest grew bigger every time he met her gaze, and he hated the impulse he had to take her in his arms to comfort her. The problem was, he had an equal urge to throttle her, every time he envisioned her wedding night. He had to remember that she had betrayed his father and him. And saved herself, of course. She must not realize just how treacherous Nerol was, and how little he could be trusted. No matter what he’d promised her, it would be given only on his own terms.
His uncle had quickly signaled the musicians to begin playing, and once the music started, a few of the Council members got up to dance. His uncle tried to put an arm around him again, but this time Kalen was ready for him and shoved him away, taking a step back as he got closer. Nerol leaned in to grab his arm in a punishing grip and speak fiercely in his ear.
“The arrangements have already been made, Kalen, and the initial contracts signed. It’s done, and you won’t ruin this, do you understand?”
Kalen jerked his arm away from his uncle’s grip. “Fuck you.”
His uncle’s eyes darkened, but he kept right on talking. “Don’t be so foolish. Your men are loyal to you, I believe. Especially your captain—or should I say your lover—Dartan Kajeer. You would do well to remember that for every one of your missteps, he and the rest of your guard will suffer. I can make their lives…quite difficult, if you understand me, and I believe you do.”
“Captain Kajeer is my friend, and he hasneverbeen my lover,you evil bastard. And you won’t dare harm him or any of my guard, damn you. For every mark you put on one of them, you’ll receive the same from me.”
Nerol straightened his cuffs and gazed out over the crowd, smiling and waving, pretending he and Kalen were just having a friendly chat. “If you behave yourself, do as you’re told, and stop your threats, there should be no problem. I’ll keep to my end of the bargain. But do keep in mind that there are a great many ways to make injuries or even deaths, appear to be accidental.” He glanced over at Kalen. “As you should be aware. And I assure you, I am quite skilled in all of them. Do I make myself clear?”
Kalen only glared back, not trusting himself to speak. Was the bastard actually bragging to him, to his face, that he’d killed Kalen’s father, his own brother?
Nerol glanced away. “I see that I have your attention. Your ship is being made ready, and you’ll leave in a few days for the space station near the moons of Lycanus, in the neutral zone, where you’ll meet with your betrothed, Prince Mikol, along with his representatives to sign the final contracts. Don’t fuck with me, boy. I mean it.” He smirked at him. “Or else others who may be close to you will suffer as well.” He turned to look pointedly at Kalen’s mother, then took her by the arm to lead her away. Neither of them looked back.
Kalen had come close to losing it then, and only by tamping rigidly down on his emotions was he able to keep himself from going after Nerol and plunging his knife into the murdering bastard’s heart.
He had already decided that he had little choice but to go and meet this fucking Tygerian. He may even have no choice except to marry him. But he would first explain to him in person how his treacherous uncle has set this up only as part of his plan to try and get rid of him.
Tygeria was far too big and powerful to offend in any way, so he had to be careful in how he approached these negotiations. The man in question was important indeed—the son of the Blood Prince himself. He would go and meet this prince, whom he had no desire to marry—and the journey might give him time to regroup and consider his options, away from his infuriating uncle.
Kalen figured the only reason his uncle hadn’t killed him so far was because he knew a large portion of the army would rise up to avenge him should anything happen to him. Kalen suspected his uncle was biding his time, consolidating his base of supporters and waiting for the Tygerians to rid him of Kalen’s interference. Marrying him off to a man who would be a high king, even an emperor one day, and who lived unimaginably far away from Loros was a smart move on his uncle’s part, as much as Kalen hated to admit it.
