Page 26 of The Concubine King
“Does it matter?You let the others think they had a modicum of power and control.Why is he any different?Are you really that scared of a village boy?”
“Of course not,” Yorith snapped.“But that’s exactly the point.He has no education, no experience, no connection to the people of this city, let alone the kingdom.A priest would understand the weight of the role.If he gets it in his head that he’s more than a revered toy, the careless use of even limited power can wreak havoc.”
“So train him!That’s your job!”
“My job, Lyrian,” Yorith said, words frigid, “is to keep the kingdom from falling apart.I cannot do that if I’m babysitting some peasant brat.”
Ethyr clenched his fists and his teeth, resisting the urge to barge into the room.The knowledge that Yorith was undoubtedly the one who had ordered his belongings tossed out did not help.But a worker skirted around the corner at that instant and Ethyr had to straighten himself and continue walking as though he hadn’t been blatantly eavesdropping.The woman bowed to him, but he rushed past her and down the hall she had come from.
The courtyard was easy to find, given that just about every hall led to it one way or another.All the decorations for the feast had been removed so that it held only seats and luscious foliage.He paced across its smooth stone floor, trying to cool his anger and order his thoughts.He didn’t want to be king, and it wasn’t like he didn’t know Yorith’s opinion of him, so he didn’t know why he was furious.
He had mostly calmed down by dusk, when workers came to light the lamps in the courtyard, so he left and continued wandering the palace.All over it, people were lighting lanterns hanging from the walls, even in corridors that had no foot traffic whatsoever.It seemed a waste.Then again, he couldn’t name a single thing here that wasn’t wasteful.
“Divine Ethyr!”
He sighed inwardly and turned to Gionan.
“Where have you been?I’ve been looking all over for you!Aren’t you hungry?”
Ethyr hadn’t given it a single thought, but now that he did, he realized he was a little hungry.But he’d eaten more food the past few days than he usually ate in a week, and food far more indulgent than he ate ever.He thought he could go the whole night without eating.But he obligingly followed Gionan to the place he called a ‘dining room’ and sat alone at the table to pick at the dishes presented to him while Gionan and another attendant watched.
He’d already forgotten what freedom felt like.The taste of it brought a yearning to his chest, a longing to be able to wander freely, to eat and dress and wash without inescapable eyes always on him.He stood and the attendant immediately stepped forward to clean up the food.Gionan fell into step with him as he entered the hall.
“Why are you wearing that, Divine Ethyr?”
Ethyr looked down at his clothes and hugged his arms to his stomach.“Because they’re mine,” he said, perhaps a bit too moodily.
“But they’re…” Gionan trailed off, not able to find an inoffensive word.“You didn’t want to wear the clothes Edora made for you?”
No, he didn’t, but he thought he shouldn’t say that.“I didn’t know where to find them.”
Gionan blinked at him.“What do you mean?They were left in your room.”
“No they weren’t.My room was empty when I woke up.”
“They were put into the chests, Divine Ethyr.”
Oh.So that’s what those were for.He hadn’t thought to look in them again.“I prefer my own clothes.”
“Of course, Divine Ethyr, but it is best to dress like a king when you’re out of your room.You have appearances to keep up, the judgment of the gods to represent.”
But I’m not a real king, so who cares?he thought sullenly.He didn’t answer Gionan, even though the man trailed him all the way to his room.Ethyr would have liked to slam the door in his face, but he didn’t.The fire had been kindled, his bed reordered, and a new silk undershirt laid out for him.
Gionan walked straight inside and opened a chest, as though Ethyr needed a demonstration after being told.It was filled with dozens of colors, the various clothing articles neatly folded and tucked inside.Sitting on top, in the center, was the book Klara had given him.
“Perhaps it is best I dress you until you are more accustomed to our fashions,” Gionan said, closing the chest.
Ethyr’s stomach twisted, not just at the thought of being treated like a child, though he didn’t appreciate that either, but with the fear that taking off these clothes would result in their disappearance, too.
“I like my own clothes,” he told Gionan.
“You can’t wear that every single day, Divine Ethyr.Certainly not.I’ll be glad to help you, it is no trouble.”
Of course it wasn’t.Ethyr scrunched his face.He didn’t want to get into another cyclical argument with the man where they ended up back where they started and Gionan was still intent on doing what he wanted to do.But Yorith had made it sound like being king gave him some amount of influence, so…
“These clothes are mine,” Ethyr said, pinching his tunic, and Gionan blinked in surprise at the force in his tone.“I want them kept here in my room and no one is to touch them unless I give permission.Okay?”
Gionan dipped his head.“Yes, Divine Ethyr.Understood.”
