The unspoken conclusion hung in the air between them. He may not survive this winter. His father’s impending death didn’t alarm Sebestyén at all. In fact, he rather relished the possibility of it; the possibility of being free from the demands of a tyrant emperor whose ambition had grown to unhealthy proportions in recent years. If that made him a heartless cad, he didn’t care. The old man had lived a long life, and if he lived any longer, Sebestyén’s own life would be shortened.
But if he died… Sebestyén would have to ascend the throne, take a wife, sire an heir, and all the headaches that came with it.
You aren’t fit to become an emperor.
Despite being groomed from birth, at his core, he felt unprepared, too green to bear the responsibility of statesmanship. Was that why he was avoiding the palace these days and spending all his time escaping reality with that Suveri woman?
Rea was a free soul, beholden to no one. She owned nothing, had nothing to protect, nothing to kill or die for. Her conscience was as clear as her eyes. She wasn’t suffocating under the weight of a pre-determined future or dreading a burden she felt inadequate to bear. And God help him, he envied her for it.
“Today’s Tuesday,” Sebestyén recalled with a start. Which meant he had lessons with her. Suddenly his heart felt like a ship’s sails filled with air, no longer caught in a raging storm at sea. Without realizing, his casual stride turned into a hurried dash.
“Why’re you in such a rush?” asked his brother.
“I have an appointment to keep.”
Arnold whistled. “Off to meet your lady love?”
Sebestyén froze. “What would give you that impression?”
“You seem preoccupied these days. Like you’re always thinking of someone.”
“I’m thinking of the war and how to win it with the least casualties.”
“Then why do you keep grinning?”
“Because I’m victorious? At least in my head.”
Arnold sighed. “Be careful, brother. The realm’s future rests on your shoulders. It’d be a tragedy to lose you to love.”
Sebestyén nodded. As the eldest, as the heir to the empire, he had so much responsibility. Marrying an appropriate woman who could strengthen Alisia’s future and bring peace and prosperity to the royal family and that woman could not be a Suveri.
“Love? Do you really think me so sentimental and foolish?” Sebestyén scoffed.
“It has been known to claim more steadfast men than you.”
Claim. As if love was an affliction. Though to someone in his position, it very well could be. “It’s not what you think.”
“Well, then I’m glad.”
Sebestyén looked down and found Arnold holding his hand. It reminded him of when they’d been children and Arnold, who’d been a crybaby, had clung to his finger every time someone hurt him with harsh words. Back then, Sebestyén had felt so confident in his ability to protect his brother. To protect everything. “Promise you’ll return from Mesinia.”
He shrugged. “Promises made during wars are rarely fulfilled. We’ll see what fate has in store for me.”
“You’re too pessimistic.”
“Perhaps. But there’s no harm in predicting the worst.”
“There’s no harm in predicting the best, either.”
“I suppose.”
But hope, tenuous, fragile hope, was too much for Sebestyén to tolerate. He’d seen it vanish in the depths of darkness too many times. Lost too many allies to it. Those days, he settled for peace.
At the entrance to his bedchamber, Arnold departed. But his words chased Sebestyén into the dark recesses of his room. It has been known to claim more steadfast men than you.
There was no point in dwelling on it. Meeting with Rea was just a way to pass the hours, something easy, fun, and relaxing. There was no deeper meaning to it, nor was it about to lead to a grand passion that would consume him alive. Rea loathed him. And while he didn’t loathe her, his experience as a general meant that he avoided battles he was bound to lose.
She waited for him outside her house.
As soon as he climbed off his horse, she came charging at him, ebony tresses blowing in the breeze. In summer, her tan deepened, bringing out the wild sparkle of her dark eyes even more. She’d traded her usual drab tunics for a gown of resplendent green, and the effect of the color against her skin stole the breath from his lungs.
She’s beautiful.
Sebestyén caught himself, startled by the direction of his thoughts. He wasn’t blind. He noticed since the beginning that she had pleasing features, but it never birthed the yearning to touch, tease, and feel in him. Never made him long for more. His hands twitched restlessly at his sides. Self-conscious, he took a step back when she appeared beside him.
“I had a feeling you would come today.” Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she couldn’t contain her excitement. “I have something to show you. I learnt a new tattoo from a Suveri man who passed by the valley.”
“He didn’t stay?” Sebestyén asked.
“No. He decided to travel further on his own. I’d have liked to have spent some more time with him. He said he knew my father. They’d been in the same Mitma back in the day.”
“Mitma?”
“Group. The Suveri travel in groups. The members of the groups aren’t fixed. One may join any group he or she comes across. Usually, we spend our lives being part of various groups.”
No wonder she was so effervescent. She met with a friend of her father’s, a member of her tribe. With someone who was like family to her. It had to be lonely, living all alone in Crua Valley.
“What about you? Where’s your group?” he asked.
Nostalgia hazed her eyes. “My father and I left the group we were part of when he decided to stay in Crua Valley for two years to gather materials for his tattoos. The sap of the trees that grow here are very valuable and used in making tattoos that can heal pain and close wounds. He wanted to collect large amounts of it, so we could help the members of our tribe.”
“So, you planned to return someday?”
“Yes. Crua Valley is an important place for the Suveri. Groups pass through here from time to time. In fact, my father’s friend told me a mitma will be coming to the valley next summer.”
“Will you join them?”
“Of course. I have nothing much to do here anyway.”
He supposed that was a sensible answer. Better to be among her own people than a foreigner in a distant land. “This will be my last summer with you, then,” he said.
“That’s right.” Rea tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “When do you plan to leave for Mesinia?”
“Once winter falls. Not long now.”
“I think our lessons are almost over, too. You don’t have to come anymore once summer ends.”
“Is that so?” Sebestyén pasted a smile ignoring the twinge in his heart. He didn’t want to stop going there, didn’t want the days of peace and companionship to end. He wanted to play chess with her, draw bad tattoo patterns, listen to her scold him. But he supposed once he went to war, he’d forget all about it. “What about the two wishes I still need to grant you?”