Our Little World II

The emotion welling up within Lien and Sai was too big to be called happiness. It just seemed too good to be true, yet for now it seemed like Michael was out of the woods. Lien couldn't curb his unease. This seemed almost too easy, or was he just reading too much into it?

"Now that the immediate threat is taken care of, you can all breathe a sigh of relief. He's not going to die." The Yet went unspoken. "Now first thing's first, Rahal why don't you take Sai to the dorm and get him situated. Don't worry. Little bird is our most important guest, after all. He'll be fine. Oh, and be a dear and send Maddox in."

Lien wanted to voice a word of complaint, had even opened his mouth to do so, but the press of Sai's hand against his own stopped him. He could tell by the cool look on Rhys' face that he was waiting for him to complain. That way, he could exact revenge against them for ingratitude in the wake of his benevolence. A deal was a deal, and there was no getting out of a deal with the devil.

"It'll be okay. I'll be fine." Sai tried to look brave but only managed to look sad, his golden eyes dark with sorrow and regret as he looked at Lien's stricken expression. "Thank you, Lien. For everything. And I want you to know, I'm sorry. For everything."

Unexpectedly Sai hugged him, one quick tight squeeze before letting him go. Getting to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster, Sai moved close to Michael's side. Seeing those blue eyes he loved so much open, despite being unfocused, gave Sai such hope. Only this forced seperation broke his heart. It was unavoidable, and he knew going into this that Rhys would not be easily appeased. The price for love for costly.

"I love you," Sai whispered in a shaky voice.  "Always." Leaning down he kissed Michael's forehead. Lingering a moment, wanting to engrave everything into his memory, he took a deep breath before turning back to Rhys and Rahal.

Michael's head turned towards Sai's voice, unfocused blue eyes looking for the source of the sound. Somehow he felt on the most basic of levels that he needed to stop whatever was happening but keeping a full thought was like trying to hold water. As his consciousness ebbed, slowly fading to black he wanted to fight it, had to fight it. The effort was all in vain as he succumbed to the darkness.

Rhys found the show of defiance from Nicholas amusing. The battle between pride and obedience was evident, yet it was a futile effort; for one groomed to serve, old habits died hard. Purposely keeping the glass vial out of reach, Rhys made a show of closing and locking the teak box in his lap before setting it on a nearby table near his elbow. After all, where was the fun in ending the game so soon? The anxiety in the air was thick, practically palpable, as everyone wondered what to expect from this unpredictable King. What would Rhys do? What indeed.

"I believe I taught you how to beg better than that, Nicholas."

Such innocuous words cast Rhys back into the past, to a time when things were so much simpler and his days were filled with the warmth of a child's laughter. It was surreal to recall the many nights Michael would crawl into his bed, demanding a story or just a snuggle. The boy had been love incarnate, light to his dark, the only one who really needed him. Yet life was unforgiving, and that boy, once taken out of his grasp, would grow cold and come to abandon and hate the father who loved him. Such was their inevitable fate.

Did he regret killing Jade, the sad-eyed slave Michael had loved? No; if anything, he regretted his carelessness in not shackling Michael so he couldn't flee his gilded cage. That was a mistake Rhys wouldn't make a second time. Ignoring Nicholas' outburst he looked to where Michael was lying, so still and quiet. How strange, to see such a proud man brought low. He couldn't help but think how nice it would be to have Michael indebted to him. The fact he would hate it only made it better.

"Your manners are sorely lacking, Nicholas. One of your few redeeming qualities, and you've let it go to waste. Such a pity." Rhys gave a derisive shake of his head. "You shame your harem, and the King you serve."

This was bad, and getting worse by the second. Already hanging by a thread, their chances of success here was rapidly declining, and Michael didn't have any other option.

"King Rhys, please forgive him his insolance." Lien insisted, kneeling on the carpeted hardwood floor with his head bent in a gesture of subservience. If it took him a moment of shame to divert Rhys' anger, he would do it. "He speaks from a place of uncertainty. Do not hold it against him."

"Eloquent as always, my dear prince."

It was evident he enjoyed making Michael's silver prince prostrate himself before another. Who wouldn't enjoy making such a beautiful man squirm? Yet, if he wanted them to see him as a man of his word, he would need to entice them into his web.  After all, it was better to attract flies with honey than vinegar. Then he'd have them right where he wanted them. It was almost too easy to be worth the effort. Almost.

"Rahal, I want you to listen to me very carefully. I need you to go to my bed chamber and get something for me. Do not dawdle. On my bedside table, there is a small locked teak chest. I want you to bring it to me."

That was a big task. Rhys' bedroom was a sacred place where very few people were admitted and none were allowed to stay. He was a private man who liked his personal space and didn't enjoy having that marred by other people. Rahal didn't want to be an errand boy yet given the situation it was better to yield and do as he was told. With fluid, graceful movements, the silk of his robe whispering with each step, he left through a side door and made a beeline to his king's bedroom. At the double doors he hesitated for a minute, then pushed inside. It was beyond tempting to snoop around in the big airy chamber but he didn't dare. Rhys would know, and that would cause a hell of a lot of trouble. So he did as he was bid, picking up a small, delicate teak box off the end table beside where Rhys slept before leaving as soundlessly as he entered.  He was gone only five minutes.

Without a word Rhys held out a hand expectantly and Rahal handed it over obediently before retaking his seat. Using the silver key he always wore around his neck Rhys unlocked the box with a small clink. Savoring the moment, he put the necklace back on, predatory eyes watching the group across the way as he opened the lid. Reaching inside, he took out a glass bottle, holding it up for all to see. Inside was a liquid kaleidoscope of color, as if the night sky was contained within the small bottle.

"As I told you, I'm a businessman. So here are my terms. Sai, my little bird, shall remain here under our care as a sign of good faith. For the time being, until I'm satisfied with the results, Michael shall also remain here. In exchange, I shall give you this. For now, it ought to stop the hemorrhaging inside him, and make it possible for him to regain consciousness. He shall require more doses, however, before he is out of danger." He tilted the glass bottle so it shone in a ray of sunlight, liquid night in a bottle and smiled. "Oh, what will you do?"

" 'Duty as a loyal servant'," Rhys repeated with a harsh expression. "Don't speak to me about loyalty, when at the first opportunity you betray me, the one who gave you a home and a purpose, and you want to talk about loyalty?"

Rhys' charcoal eyes darkened near to black as anger rose inside him. It galled him, this whole situation, to have a servant turned traitor within his Doman, asking for help of all things.

"You presume too much, Nicholas, and overstep your station. Why should I care about your current predicament when you're no longer under my care. If anything, this is a fortuitous business opportunity for me. Why shouldn't I take advantage of it? You come into my home, asking for help you don't deserve all to satisfy your childish sense of self-preservation.
  "You're the one who took it upon himself to help Michael escape, effectively stripping me of my son and heir, and now here you are like a dog begging for a treat. Your stupidity is overshadowed by your naivety. The only reason I'm listening to you at all is to watch you grovel."

"I told you this was a waste of time," Lien said, pissed off at this whole thing. Why wouldn't anyone listen? "He's not going to help us."

"Lien, shh," Sai said in hushed whisper.

"No, I won't shh. I told you this was going to happen, but you just HAD to come here of all places when we should have just gone to the goddamn hospital. Even if he could, King Rhys won't help."

"My dear Lien, I'm a businessman first and foremost." Rhys took a sip of coffee, drawing out the moment, the tension in the air all but palpable. "So let's talk business."

"What do you want?!" Sai all but screamed. "What could we possibly give you?!?!"

Rhys smiled and it was wolfish. "What are you willing to give? Time isn't exactly on your side, so tick tock."

Rhys was hearing none of it. "Whatever the provocation Rahal, once they stepped passed that threshold they are guests. My quests. Do you understand?" Behind Rahal's emerald eyes burned anger and jealousy -- he was mad at not being able to smite the one and only person ever to have a place within Rhys' heart. "I'll discipline you later." Those words hung ominously in the air between them.

With that said, Rhys turned into the nearby sitting room, taking a seat in a comfy chair that offered him full view of the lavishly decorated room. A servant boy in white linen came in carrying a heavy laden tray, the scent of freshly ground brewed coffee filling the room as the boy set it on the table in front of Rhys. There were five cups, a carafe of coffee, sugar and utensils. Only one cup was full.

"Excellent job, Maddox. Not a drop spilt." As he picked up his mug Rhys smiled at the boy, who flushed a deep red. "That will be all." It wasn't until he'd taken a slow savory sip of his morning coffee that he turned towards the others in the room. "You mentioned something about help. What exactly do you think I can do for you?"

The atmosphere within the close confines of the car was tense, to say the least. Sai sat in the back with Michael's head in his lap, keeping pressure on the wound on his lover's head to stop the bleeding. Nicholas sat in the passenger seat, face blank, eyes grim, a warrior ready to step out onto the battlefield; God knew that was an apt description of where they were headed. In the driver's seat Lien wished he was anywhere else but here.

This was a fool's errand; he should be taking Michael to a damn hospital, not to another harem where the devil lived. It was a mistake, he knew. This was going to be seen as an act of betrayal --- Lien could deal with that. His relationship with their king was a complicated one, and an action such as this would almost be expected of him. The blame, the anger, the hate and mistrust; Lien had been dealing with such things since he was fifteen years old. He could shoulder that burden. . . but could the others?

When it came to the harem, Nicholas was a veteran in doing what needed to be done. He'd survived the wrath of the Blood King after aiding Michael's escape and had lived to tell the tale. He'd been around since the Prince turned King was an infant, had seen him grow and become the man he was now. It was due to him that the day-to-day running of Firesse went smoothly. He was diligent, meticulous, always ready to tackle any and all obstacles laid out before him. His experiences gave Nicholas the conviction to stand by his decisions; he'd made the choice, whether right or wrong, to stand by his actions. Whatever the outcome.

As for Sai. . . In all the years Lien had known him, not once had Sai gone against Michael's will. Compliant, he was devoted to his lover. He never fought or argued, never challenged. Like them, Sai's life had been difficult. He'd been expelled from Sanguinaria, left for dead by the side of the road (that had Rahal's fingerprints all over it). That day had ruined Lien's life --- that was when Michael found the broken little bird and brought him home to Firesse. It still hurt, twelve years later, to recall how completely he'd been pushed aside. Sai was less of a problem, meek whereas Lien was defiant. Clearly Michael was drawn to that, someone who was willing to be who and what he wanted, always. Sai had always done what asked, was his lover's confidante, his safe place in a storm. Yet he had never once gone against him. . . Until now.

Michael's hatred of Sanguinaria and its master was well known within their world. He'd left that place all on his own, by his own feet and now here he was, returning under circumstances not of his choosing. Lien was against this whole thing. He knew what Michael wanted, and nothing good would come out of taking him back to see Rhys. Difficult as the task Michael had set for him would be, Lien would see it done yet this whole thing was just giving them false hope. As he drove he was preparing himself for the worst case scenario, that Michael was going to die. The thought was a stab to the heart. Yet if by some miracle Nicholas' story rang true. . . There would be hell to pay. Betrayal was not so easily forgiven.

All too soon the drive was at its end as Lien turned onto the street leading to their destination. The closer they got, the more it felt like time was slowing down yet all too soon the wrought iron gates of Sanguinaria was before them and the chance to flee was gone. As they approached the intercom Lien rolled down his window to press the button announcing his presence --- you never know when a client would come to call.

"I'm here to see King Rhys."

"Name."

Lien hesitated. Did he lie? Or tell the truth? He probably wouldn't get in without using his title, as he hadn't exactly made an appointment.

"I'm Prince Lien of Firesse. I have a matter of great importance to discuss with King Rhys regarding his estranged son. It's quite urgent."

Silence on the other end of the intercom. One minute became two, then three then five. Lien was about to admit defeat when the iron gates slowly swung open, granting them entry. Behind him Sai let out a relieved sigh. Navigating the wide circular drive Lien parked near the door and cut the engine. Sanguinaria was a splendid three-story structure of pale red stone. It was imposing yet somehow elegant at the same time, with its many windows winking in the early morning light, with flowers a riot of color against the building's pale red stone. Like two bookends Sai and Nicholas supported Michael between them. They'd thrown a blanket over him to obscure his face and allow him to maintain a little dignity. At their approach the gleaming double mahogany doors swung open, beckoning them into the belly of the beast.

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"Is that why you told me that strange story earlier?" Sai asked, ignoring Lien's outburst.

"What story?" Lien demanded.

"Ah, about people possessing death-defying powers."

"That's just a story," Lien looked at Nicholas with a frown. "Isn't it? No one has such abilities."