The Power and the Glory

Book 2 Chapter XV: The Gathering Storm

Are you scared to see what lies beneath?
Behind these artificial teeth?
-- Aviators, Masks

In his time as ruling prince Ilaran had met all sorts of loathsome people. Monsters like Haliran were few and far between. Much more common were ordinary immortals who never did anything truly reprehensible, whose only thought was of bettering themselves or their family, but who were thoroughly disgusting specimens anyway. Money-grabbers and social-climbers were among the most unpleasant. Especially those who used their children as pawns for their own advancement.

Many people back in Tananerl threw themselves or their daughters at him in hopes he would marry one of them -- or at least bed them and then have to pay their parents to prevent a scandal. When he refused all of them they changed tactics and started throwing their sons at him. All of those attempts failed too. He had stated repeatedly he had no interest in men or women, but they never listened. One of his more petty motives for this trip was to have a break from social-climbers and their incessant attempts to trap him into marriage.

It was just his luck that he stumbled upon one here too. Kumolnea honestly seemed disappointed that he was offering Irímé a job and not taking him as a lover. She even had the audacity to make thinly-veiled suggestions that was his real intention. Any decent parent who harboured such suspicions would have questioned him to within an inch of his life, likely challenged him to a duel, probably would call the police, and certainly would never have let Irímé go anywhere with him. Kumolnea's main concern seemed to be if she would get something out of it, with only the most token comment about Irímé's safety and honour.

A little voice at the back of his head -- which sounded oddly like Kivoduin giving him a disappointed look and starting one of her lectures -- reminded him that throwing something at her head would not look good when the newspapers got wind of it.

Very rarely had Ilaran been so glad to get away from someone in his life. He felt rather as if he'd spent the last half-hour in a snake's coils and had only just managed to escape. No, wait; that was insulting to snakes everywhere. She was more like a shark.

I'm not surprised Irímé's so eager to leave that horrible woman, he thought.

Now he just had to find Irímé and sign the contract before Kumolnea got it into her head to demand more money.

~~~~

"Let me be sure I understand you." Kitri was almost certain she'd interpreted everything correctly this time. Even so the memory of her humiliating mistake earlier made her wary of accepting anything without making sure her interpretation was right. "You're going to work for Ilaran as an archivist."

Irímé nodded.

"And you are not breaking off your betrothal to Abihira."

"Of course not. Why would I?"

Kitri could think of a few very good reasons. They included walking corpses, necromancy, experiments of dubious morality, necromancy, a blatant disregard for other people's wishes, necromancy, an inability to accept good advice, and did she mention necromancy?

"And I most certainly am not going to marry Ilaran," Irímé added in a tone somewhere between emphatic and sarcastic.

It looked like she'd never be allowed to live that down. All right, so it was a stupid mistake. Alcohol tended to cause those. And it wasn't as if Irímé hadn't made some equally embarrassing mistakes in the past. Kitri didn't know what precisely his mistakes might have been, but they were bound to have happened. Everyone misunderstood something at some point in their lives.