Page 14 of Impaled by His Omega Prince (Reluctant Fae Princes #2)
Lumic
If he had to sit through one more meeting with potential spouses, he’d decided he was going to mount his horse and ride off into the sunset and go in search of Askara. At least the alpha was a decent lay and gave good conversation.
“You really should give Thallan a chance. He was a lovely match,” Lumic’s omega father said, shifting in his throne. At his side, Lumic slouched in his accompanying throne. It was a little big for him, as it was his father, Kershai’s ceremonial chair. The alpha was quite the sizeable male, giving Lumic much of his size for an omega. Stamel would fill the seat better.
A bitter part of him imagined Askara in that seat. The alpha would fit the seat worse than himself, but he’d look nice at Lumic’s side…if it were allowed. Pallosar would allow any alpha of means or good blood to join with him, but one that came with the goddesses…no. The goddesses hated Croatens.
Maybe they’d curse Croatens worse if Lumic took Askara for his own.
“Thallan thinks an orgasm is some rare species of bird. What good would he be to me, Father?” Lumic sighed raggedly and Pallosar gave him a withering look.
“Really. He was a good choice. He was twenty-seven thalms. You could do worse for grandchildren.” Pallosar shook a teaspoon at him and licked sugar off the rim of it before crossing his legs.
“Did you send soldiers to find him like I asked, Father?”
“I told you, Lumic. Everyone was dead. I’m sorry your friend got caught up in the mess, but we must move on. Oryn assured me there were no survivors, and he checked.” Pallosar rose from his seat and eyed Lumic. “You look tired.”
“I am tired.”
“Go take a nap, and see the healer, dear. You’ve not been right since you returned.” Pallosar patted Lumic’s head and wandered off. “We have a guest coming in the morning. Hopefully, this one will sway you.”
It certainly did sway him. It swayed him to avoid his bedchambers altogether. And it swayed him to forego his horse. He’d fly under the goddess herself and beg for wind to find Askara faster.
Determination burning within him, Lumic stood and charged forward, pushing past hallway doors and up stairs to his wing of the castle.
“Lulu?” The soft tones of Lumic’s alpha father interrupted his inner monologue.
“Dada?” Lumic turned and gave Kershai a sweet smile that earned him a look .
“Don’t Dada me, Lu.” His scowl, playful in nature, held none of the sting that his omega father’s would. “I can tell when you’re up to something.”
Up was the key word. It was a several-hour flight to Alluin’s summer keep, several days by carriage. As exhausted as he was, he was still willing to go there, find Askara, and get a real night’s sleep. He was so tired. He wanted the alpha burrowed against his chest, curled into him to be held like a lifeline. An orgasm wouldn’t be amiss, but to stare into those silvery eyes that held the moon in them. A moon he hadn’t prayed to since his rescue.
“I was curious, Father.” Changing his moniker had Kershai softening a little, opening an arm to welcome him in for a hug. “About the goddesses.”
An amused grin ticked the corner of his mouth up and Kershai drew him away from his wing, escorting Lumic to one of their sitting parlors, a more private family one. Several generations of Croatens royalty’s height had been notched on a pillar and the rugs in there, while threadbare, smelled comfortable, and held all the marks of hard play of youth.
“Oh?” Kershai, powerful in thalm but poor in control, waved a hand in a simple gesture, conjuring a small butterfly made of thalmic light. It fluttered around his head as he spoke quietly, requesting tallroot milk and biscuits. The warm steeped milk, sweetened with honey, was a favorite treat of Lumic and never failed to bring him comfort.
With the spell on his lips, the butterfly flew away—such a simple but powerful trick that Lumic would have paid dearly for if it could be used to travel distance. They only held power within a certain range of the caster, which made it perfect for staff.
“Why have the goddesses forsaken Croatens?”
Kershai leaned back thoughtfully. “Well, you know the story about the prince and the priest?”
Lumic had indeed known the story, where an omega prince took a lover from high in a dusk temple. He stole the alpha away from his duties and they chose their own path, one of love rather than one of fates ordained by the goddesses.
“And you know it has as much truth as the midden, right?” Kershai lowered his gaze and sat back, relaxing for a moment as an attendant came rushing in with a tray loaded with treats.
Lumic was starving and took a handful of the sweets and his tallroot milk to enjoy the rich, hot, pink silk of it. Sweet, nutty, a hint of bitterness after. It made his cheeks warm, as it did Kershai’s with a visible pink flush. “I mean, there’s a kernel of truth somewhere in there.”
Kershai snorted. “And there’s plenty of kernels in the midden, but I wouldn’t hazard trusting one.”
Lumic’s stomach turned at the analogy, and he put his drink down. “Well, that ruined my snack.”
“So, I never was one for history and books. But I loved that story. Remember all those little stories and poems I wrote for you and the boys when you were small?”
Lumic did indeed remember the fanciful tales his father would write. They were some of the fondest memories he treasured from his childhood. With a nod from Lumic, Kershai continued.
“The alpha priest in that story may very well have not been willing. And the goddesses have pretty much snubbed Croatens since. But it makes sense we wouldn’t tell the truth of it. As embarrassing as it is. But it stands that the goddesses do not speak to any citizen of the nation. Nor do the royalty ask forgiveness.”
“Should we?” Lumic stared at his cooling tallroot milk.
“That’s a question for Pallosar. And a question for you, when you take over.” Kershai finished his drink and sat the cup down far more gently than his size would have dictated. “But no goddess would speak to us. I doubt they’d listen.”
Lumic followed suit and drained his drink. “What could it hurt?”
Kershai stared at his empty cup before turning it slightly, aligning the handle with the tray. “All this time has passed and perhaps the goddesses have forgotten. An apology might remind them. You’re of traitor’s blood, after all.”
Lumic slouched and sighed, mind reeling. The goddess had saved him… For Askara. But something else occurred to Lumic. “Da… wouldn’t that mean I’m also the blood of her priest?”
Kershai silenced and took a deep breath before speaking. “Every fourth year, our crops fail. No nation will ally with us.” The hesitation that wrenched his face twisted into something stricken. “Fratricide.”
“Fratricide? Stamel failed, and is that part of it?” Lumic’s heart skipped a beat as he hesitated.
Kershai nodded. “We didn’t want to let that legacy weigh over you. But Stamel failed by the grace of his own incompetence.”
The grace of a goddess.
“And I don’t want him dead.” Lumic rubbed his face and sighed heavily, more certain by the moment that he wanted Askara. All the appeal of a stuffed animal, plus the warmth of a body and the most fantastic knot. He narrowly avoided drooling.
“As a consequence of those curses, we’ve become some of the best in this continent at preserving food. We’ve grown significantly as sellswords and militant noncombat footwork.” Kershai waved his hand dismissively.
“Not much of a curse when we can keep the bandits and flashpines at bay without pissing off the wrong countries.” Lumic snorted.
“But your father bears the weight of the treachery of his brothers. And we fear that Stamel and Ingred are headed down the wrong path.” Kershai took a deep breath. “Ingred is acting on his own and has caused issues with Liaberos, that combined with Alluin’s summer estate.”
Lumic nodded. “And Stamel is locked up, waiting for his true love?”
“Something like that.” Kershai stood and bid Lumic good night, kissing him on the head as he shuffled out. In the doorway, he paused, hand on the frame. “Do what your heart says is right. And feel free to tell your father that you don’t like his choices in mates. I found them all rather boring.”
The statement brought warmth to Lumic’s belly. If he was swift and left soon, he could be in Askara’s bed by the moon’s highest.