Page 39 of The Second Marriage
Taral’s eyes searched Sejun’s face. “Our bond is weak, I thought, and closed on both ends. Is that not the case?”
“No. It’s as if you’re shouting at me all the time, with whatever it is you’re feeling. Happy, sad, annoyed—I can sense it all. I think I would know what you were feeling even if you were on the other side of the world.”
“I see.” The bond rippled with mortification. Taral released Sejun’s arm and turned away to look over the dark river. The sound of the water rushing filled the silence between them. At length, Taral said, “I can’t sense much of anything from you. A vague murmur, sometimes. But for the most part all I can feel through the bond is your presence, or a—a pull, a tug. I know you’re there, but that’s all.”
“Who would have thought that I could ever conceal my emotions in any way,” Sejun said, and the bond emitted a trickle of Taral’s begrudging amusement. Sejun took a step toward him. “I didn’t know you couldn’t sense me.”
“You assumed it was for me the way it is for you. I understand.” Taral turned his head to look at Sejun, his expression cast in shadow. “I’m sure you can imagine that I’m somewhat uncomfortable with the notion that you know everything I’m feeling.”
“Yes. I don’t know why it’s that way. I’m not deliberately doing anything to conceal myself from you.”
“I didn’t imagine you were.” Taral took hold of Sejun’s wrist again, gently this time, his thumb stroking over the base of Sejun’s palm. “I’m sorry to—subject you to my ongoing… I don’t know the word I should use. Turmoil, I suppose. I wish you didn’t know.”
Sejun also wished that, but there was no helping it. “It was a shock for you, seeing Prince Jaysha again. I know you’ll need time to move past that.”
“No wonder you’ve seemed preoccupied the past few days.” Taral dropped Sejun’s wrist. “Please forgive me. I’ll try to quiet myself as much as I can.”
“I hope you don’t. I would rather know than not.” Sejun swallowed, then confessed, “It helps me feel close to you, when otherwise…”
“When otherwise I keep you at arm’s length. Is that it?” Taral watched him for a moment, then stepped in close and set his hands on Sejun’s shoulders. “I wish I could know you in this way, as you know me. You have me at a disadvantage. What’s in your heart, Sejun?”
“Nothing of importance,” Sejun said.
Taral didn’t laugh as he had hoped. He regarded Sejun somberly. “It’s of great importance to me. My husband and bonded. I honor you above all others.”
Sejun could feel the sincerity behind the formality of Taral’s words. He leaned in and kissed the corner of Taral’s mouth, and Taral shifted to bring their mouths together in a soft, careful kiss.
“You are precious to me,” Taral said quietly when they drew apart. “Please believe that.”
“I do,” Sejun said, but in truth he couldn’t quite.
* * *
The crown cityof Chedi appeared over a rise in the road: Banuri, scattered over a hillside as if a giant had stood at the crest and strewn buildings like gems. They were the color of gems, yellow and green and red. High on a rocky outcrop above the city sat the palace, a confection of towers and arches rising above the protective outer walls.
Sejun’s horse followed Taral’s down the road into the valley below the city. Market traffic pulled aside to let the delegation pass, and Sejun watched the onlookers with interest as he rode by. He had seen so many new things on this journey, and they hadn’t even arrived in the city yet. He would never need to read a book again, as by the time he returned to Tadasho he would surely have experienced more than even an entire library could convey.
Taral raised his eyebrows when Sejun shared this thought. “You say this now, but some merchant will tempt you with a romance that takes place in—I don’t know, in distant Shushan across the ocean, and you’ll pay some exorbitant price to learn about how people court each other in that land.”
“I’ve never heard of any books from Shushan,” Sejun said, wondering now if he could get his hands on one. He would have to visit every bookseller in Banuri and see what they had on offer.
“Do I need to put you on a strict book-buying budget?” Taral asked, his smile creasing the corners of his eyes. “We’ll return to Tadasho impoverished.”
Taral’s smile thrust an agonizing blade of shame through Sejun’s gut. Taral found him comical, and that was always Sejun’s aim, wasn’t it? To amuse people, so that they found him humorous instead of merely foolish. But he wanted to change himself now, to become dignified and sober, a mature and reliable partner for Taral. Jaysha didn’t waste time reading silly romances.
“I promise I’ll restrain myself,” Sejun said. Taral looked at him for a moment, his smile fading, before turning his attention back to the road.
Up they climbed from the valley bottom to meet the city where it spilled over the slope. The clamor of hawkers, caged doves, and bells ringing in the distance filled Sejun’s ears. Narrow streets wended between buildings of three and even four stories. Sejun had the impression of riding through a narrow valley that might collapse on him at any moment. There were no cities of this size in the Mountain Kingdoms, and even the largest towns were more spacious. One could always see the mountains and the trees. He wasn’t sure he liked this, but there was also so much to see, the open market with its assortment of fruits and caged doves, the towering building he guessed was a temple or college.
The process of directing the whole long convoy into the palace took a great deal of time. As Sejun and Taral rode near the rear of the procession, they idled on the road for a while, thankfully in the shade of the palace walls. Feba was being welcomed, presumably, and Sejun wished he could see it. At last, the horses ahead of them began to move again, and they passed through the deep gate in the palace wall. Above, carved into the arched rock, a bird looked along its back toward its trailing tail.
The courtyard inside milled with people and horses, but the Chedai had set up an efficient system of grooms leading horses into the stables and retainers leading mountain people into the palace proper. As soon as Sejun clambered off his horse, a groom was there to take the reins and lead the animal away, and a waiting servant bowed to him and gestured toward the palace door.
“Wait a moment,” Sejun said to the man in Chedai and held out his hand to Taral, who was dismounting his own horse. Taral clasped Sejun’s hand, the servant bowed again, and they walked together into the palace of the Chedai king.
CHAPTER18
“Diplomacy,” Taral said, “is too much work.”