Who Rules the King's Heart

Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Second Thoughts

Michah paced the length of his office, pausing from time to time to look out of the window at the gardens. Spring had arrived in a blaze of color – the early roses that climbed the high walls painted the white stone in fuchsia, yellow and red, and the pale green grass was speckled with tiny points of purple and yellow.

Inside, Lord Shura sat in front of Michah's desk, looking quite tired. He and Michah had been discussing the upcoming meeting of the Council of Provinces, and the trial of Governor Lurent. But, in spite of the meeting of the Council and the arrival of dignitaries from all over the kingdom, in the two days since Samael had revealed himself to Michah, Michah could think of little else but Samael. He was already regretting his decision to push away the enigmatic Shedim, having been left unsatisfied from his encounter of the night before. It had not been Lady Renna's fault – there were few women more beautiful to be found in the kingdom – but Michah had never had another lover more enticing or able to please him than Samael.

"You will need a suitable escort to the Eventide Ball, your majesty," Shura reminded Michah as his pacing continued, unabated.

"The Lieutenant-Governor of Talaska has been assassinated, Lord Lurent is being brought here to answer for his death, and I am to be concerned about a ball at court next week?" Michah spat, looking at Shura with an expression somewhere between dismay and disgust.

"The Eventide Ball has been held every year at this time since your Great-Great-Great-Great Grandfather ruled the kingdom," the elderly Shura pointed out.

"Then cancel it," snapped Michah. He had no time for such trivial things as balls.

"And let your enemies know how much their actions have affected you?" Michah rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his desk chair, shaking his head. "You did seek my counsel, your majesty," Shura reminded him, his tone patient but paternal.

Michah frowned. "Yes," he said, with more than a hint of exasperation, "I did."

"Such social gatherings serve not only to gather the powerful," Shura said, "they demonstrate the health of the monarchy, your majesty. Canceling the celebration would be quite unwise, especially given the current situation in Talaska."

Michah leaned his head back for a moment, then sighed. "I suppose Lady Renna would make a suitable escort."

"Yes," Shura replied. "Although if you were to announce your marriage to her…"

"You push me too far, Advisor," Michah retorted, standing up and walking over to the window, his shoulders tense.

"I speak only the truth, your majesty," Shura answered. "You will need an heir. It is expected of you."

"I will not take a wife in order to please Shaeran's nobility," Michah growled. He had known this moment would come eventually, but he had still hoped he could avoid it, at least for a few more years.

Shura walked over to the window, reached out to put his hand on Michah's shoulder, then withdrew it. "Michah," he said, now sounding far more like a father than the King's Advisor, "I have known you since you were a small child. I know you never wished to rule Shaeran, that you wanted nothing to do with nobility… Your father knew it as well – that was why he never forced you to come live here, at the castle. I know your heart is conflicted, but I have no doubt that you will continue to serve Shaeran faithfully."

Michah remained silent, his eyes traveling to the place in the garden where he had seen Nathaneel standing the night before. Shura mumbled a few words of courtesy, then bowed deeply and left the office. Michael ran a hand through his hair, cursing the circumstances of his birth. In truth, he knew he could not quarrel with anything the old man had said, and yet he still found the situation in which he now found himself difficult. It was so different from what he had expected of his life.

He had never expected to be king; he had always assumed that his half-brother, the full-blooded crown prince of Shaeran would take their father's place. But upon Michah's return from the Shedim, he had learned that Rayson had been killed in a fierce battle defending the northern border with Koren. As the only living son of the ailing King, Michah had dutifully taken his place at his father's side. Two years later, upon his father's death, he had been crowned King of Shaeran. Still, he had never felt worthy of his position, and he doubted his ability to lead his people as they deserved.

"Your highness?" The familiar voice brought him back to himself. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.

"Please come in, Nathaneel." He heard the door close and the sound of footsteps on the stone floor, but he did not turn around.

"If I am intruding," Nathaneel said, his tone clipped, "I can return later."

"No," Michah said, turning and nodding to acknowledge the other man, "now is as good a time as any. I apologize, I…"

"No doubt you are tired after last night," Nathaneel interrupted. He stood at attention, but Michah noticed a subtle change in his expression which he could not quite fathom.

"Last night?" Michah repeated, frowning. "What of last night?"

"You were…" – Nathaneel hesitated briefly – "occupied."

"Yes. And what of it?" He sighed and rubbed his eyes as he often did in response to stressful situations. Walking back to his desk, he sat down in his chair. "How did he know?" he wondered to himself.

"You put yourself in danger by releasing the guards – overruling my express orders that they remain outside your door throughout the night." Nathaneel's eyes flashed silver, and Michah realized with astonishment that Nathaneel was angry.

Michah laughed, his manner dismissive. "I hardly think my guest posed any risk of harming me." He had hoped his offhanded tone would dissuade Nathaneel from pressing the issue further, but the dark-haired captain did not back down.

"Nevertheless, it is my duty to see that you remain safe."

"And you do a remarkable job of it," replied Michah, studying Nathaneel's face and trying to understand the reason for Nathaneel's uncharacteristically brash behavior. There was something – some unexpressed emotion behind those emerald-green eyes – but Michah could not fathom it. Anger, yes. But there was more…

"Do you mock me, your majesty?" Nathaneel countered, a flush in his cheeks.

Michah felt his own temper rise and struggled to keep his expression neutral. Nathaneel's conduct left him feeling unnerved – first the appearance of Samael, now this – and Michah could not help but wonder if the two events were somehow connected. "No, of course not," he replied, realizing only too late that his casual attitude was only making things worse. "I would never…"

"Then, in the future, please permit me to carry out my responsibilities," Nathaneel said, interrupting once more. "You will always have the final say on matters of state, but you must allow me to see to your protection."

This interruption was the final provocation for Michah, who was still ill-tempered from his conversation with Shura minutes before. "What's gotten into him?" he wondered. Had he angered Samael, and thus Nathaneel as well? He rose from his chair, feeling the heat in his cheeks. "I do not need a nursemaid, Captain," he said, acid in his tone. "Nor do I need you to pry into my personal affairs. Need I remind you who urged me to take a lover?"

Nathaneel blanched at these words. "No. Of course not, your majesty," he replied, looking both angry and chagrined.

Michah's jaw tensed to see Nathaneel's response, and he breathed in deeply, willing himself to relax. For a minute, perhaps more, he did not speak. Then, leaning back in his chair, Michah said with resignation, "I am sorry to have troubled you, Nathaneel. You are right – I should not have interfered in your work." His remorse was genuine.

Nathaneel blinked in surprise. "You needn't apologize," he murmured, at a loss for words, "I only…"

"Yes," Michah replied, standing up putting his hand on Nathaneel's shoulder. "An apology, even from the King, is due. I have been… distracted. I did not mean to take out my frustrations upon you." Their eyes met briefly, then Michah walked over to the window once more.

Nathaneel looked relieved. "Is there anything I can do?" he offered, feeling his anger abate. Why had he been so angry with Michah? Had the dream affected him so deeply? He resolved not to allow his emotions interfere with his duties again.

"Anything more from Talaska?" Michah asked, happy to move on to another topic. "Is there anything else to report?"

"Governor Lurent will arrive tomorrow morning, but there is nothing more to tell. I have stationed additional guards around the palace, both for your safety and that of the Council," answered Nathaneel. "I do not expect trouble, but it is best to remain vigilant."

Michah turned back to look at Nathaneel. "I have no doubt you will ensure that the meeting and the trial are conducted without incident," he said, relieved to feel himself fall back into his comfortable, albeit professional, relationship with Nathaneel.

"There is, however, one other matter to discuss," Nathaneel added after a pause. Michah nodded for Nathaneel to continue. "Advisor Shura has requested that my men ensure the safety of the guests at the Eventide Ball."

"Very well," Michah said. "See to it." Nathaneel bowed low, turning to walk out of the office. "Nathaneel?" The other man paused, turning back towards Michah expectantly. "See to it that you enjoy the ball, as well. I think we have both been working too hard lately."

Nathaneel smiled warmly and nodded, then walked out of the door. For a moment, Michah just stood facing the doorway, rubbing his eyes. He had never seen Nathaneel lose his temper. He still could not help wondering if Samael's appearance had something to do with Nathaneel's unusual behavior. Shaking his head and forcing his focus back to his work, he sat back down at his desk.

There was a knock on the study door about an hour later. "Enter," Michah said, picking up another paper to read.

"Your highness," said the bright young guard Michah recognized as Ruren, one of Nathaneel's new recruits, "the Captain has asked that I to escort you to Court."

Michah sighed, gazing at the stack of documents which he had told himself he would finish reviewing before nightfall. He had completely forgotten that it was the second day of the first week of the month – the time when he was expected to hold court and hear the citizens' concerns and complaints.

"Since when do I need an escort within the castle walls?" Michah grumbled.

The young cadet paled, but held his ground. "The Captain requires it, your majesty," he replied.

"Very well," Michah replied, motioning for the servant who, as she always did when Michah worked, stood at the entrance to the study, ready to respond to his needs.

"Your highness," said the young woman, bowing deeply.

"Tell my manservant that I must dress for court," Michah said, standing up and opening the door to his private rooms. Ruren hesitated, looking befuddled. "Certainly the Captain doesn't require you to watch me while I dress?" Michah said, a slight smirk on his lips. Although he had intended this comment as jest, Ruren was an attractive young man, and the thought had a certain appeal to the young monarch.

The boy now blushed deeply. "N…no, your majesty," he stammered. Michah noted with some satisfaction that Ruren's eyes strayed appreciatively over his broad shoulders.

"Good," Michah replied. "You will wait for me outside my chambers." "And, perhaps, later…" he added in silence.

"Yes, sir!" Ruren nearly shouted. "I mean, your highness!"

Michah chuckled to himself as he closed the door behind him. It had hardly been fair to tease the boy so, but he had enjoyed it, nonetheless. "Damn fool, Nathaneel," he thought, with a sigh.

******

The large throne room was already decorated in the ceremonial silver and green of Shaeran for the coming Eventide Ball. Even now, nearly a week before the celebration was to be held, dignitaries from all over Shaeran had begun to arrive in the capital city. In retrospect, Michah realized, he had been told several times that the ball would be held this month. He had also known that there would be more visitors than usual to the castle; he had just chosen to ignore that information. Although he tried to blame his distraction on the unrest in Talaska and the faint rumblings in intelligence reports from Koren, he knew that it was Nathaneel who had weighed heavily on his mind.

Nathaneel. He was handsome in his full dress uniform, standing on the dais where Michah was seated to receive guests. His long, dark hair was tied at the nape of his neck, emphasizing his high cheekbones and chiseled jaw. His presence there was at once heartening and unsettling to Michah; Nathaneel's uncharacteristic behavior that morning had him concerned. Michah felt the familiar longing for his Captain and, as he always did, forced himself to push it aside.

Advisor Shura, in his element, cordially greeted those who would meet the King, introducing each one and listening intently. For the most part, the men and women granted an audience with Michah were already familiar to him: governors and nobility from the provinces -- supporters of Michah's rule, all of them. Several hours into what had become a far longer audience than he was accustomed to, Shura led a delegation from the border province of Moren, including the Governor, his wife, and several delegates to the Council of Provinces. After making their introductions, Shura motioned for a woman at the back of the delegation to come forward. She bowed, as was customary at court, but did not lower her eyes as might be expected, instead meeting Michah's with surprising audaciousness.

"Your majesty," Advisor Shura said, his voice formal, but with a trace of appreciation for the beautiful newcomer, "may I present Lady Tanea, the daughter of the former Governor, Lord Runa."

Michah nodded, noting with approval her thick, wavy black hair which nearly reached her narrow waist. She wore a modest velvet dress of bright green green and, when she raised her face to meet his gaze, Michah saw that her eyes were nearly the same color as the fabric. She was tall for a woman, although still not taller than Michah – with high cheekbones and a graceful neck. Her figure was lithe, but ample in all the places a woman should be. Eschewing the heavy jewels worn by many of the castle guests, she wore a delicate pendant that hung into the crease of her bosom on a narrow gold chain. The tear-shaped stone was a deep amber; a stone Michah had never seen before.

"My lady," said Michah, noting that her eyes looked very much like Nathaneel's, with a hint of silver in their depths. Michah did his best to mask his surprise at the resemblance; the two could have been siblings. "It is my pleasure to welcome you to the City of Shaeran. Have you traveled here before?"

"This is my first visit, your majesty," Tanea replied, her manner confident but deferential. "I am afraid there was little opportunity to visit during the war with Koren. As you know, we have only now finished rebuilding the provincial capital."

"Of course," Michah answered. He knew the people of Moren had suffered during the war; their location on the edge of the no-man's land that divided Shaeran from Koren had left them vulnerable to enemy attacks during the conflict. Tanea's father, the Governor of the province, had been killed in one such raid.

"I was saddened to hear of the death of your father, my lady," Michah said, his words heartfelt. "He was a good man. My father spoke highly of him."

"I am honored by your words, majesty," she replied.

Michah could not help feeling that there was something familiar about her, that he had met her before. "Will you be staying for Eventide?" he asked her.

She answered, "Yes, your majesty," her lips curving up.

"Good," he said, offering her a charming smile. "I hope you will do me the honor of a dance, then."

"I would be delighted, your highness," she answered, with a curtsy. Then, glancing over to where Nathaneel was standing, she said, "I am told that the Captain of your guard was also born in Moren."

"Indeed," Michah replied. "Have you two met before?"

"No," she replied, "although I had hoped to meet him."

"That is easily taken care of," Michah said, standing up and motioning for Nathaneel to join them. "Captain, this is Lady Tanea, daughter of the late Governor Runa. My lady, this is Nathaneel, the Captain of my guard."

"A pleasure, my lady," Nathaneel replied, bowing deeply. Tanea smiled and nodded.

"I hear you are also from Moren, Captain," said Tanea.

Yes," Nathaneel replied. "I lived there until my mother's death, when I was sent to the orphanage here, in Shaeran. I was very young; I remember little of my life there."

"Perhaps you can escort Lady Tanea around the castle and grounds," Michah suggested, wishing he himself could do the honors, if only to escape the tedium of the audience.

"I would love to see the castle," Tanea replied. "How kind of you to suggest it, your majesty." And, for an instant, Michah thought he saw a flash of something akin to amusement in Tanea's eyes.

"But of course," Michah told her.

"If you will follow me, my lady," Nathaneel said, with a curt nod in her direction. Michah caught Nathaneel's gaze for a brief moment and saw that his Captain was displeased; Nathaneel did not appreciate being taken away from his official duties. "It will do him good to relax a bit," thought Michah, reminded once more of Nathaneel's strange behavior earlier.

"I hope you enjoy your stay here," Michah offered. "If there is anything I can do to make your visit more comfortable, please do not hesitate to ask."

Tanea curtsyed deeply. "You are very kind," she replied.

"I will look forward to our dance then," said Michah with sincerity.

"As will I," she answered, curtseying once more.

Nathaneel bowed to Michah, then offered Tanea his arm, leading her across the dais and through a doorway into the main entrance of the castle. Michah watched them leave, his curiosity about the woman growing by the minute.

******

Back in his rooms after a formal dinner – during which he had struggled to keep his focus through his increasing exhaustion – Michah let his manservant help him change out of his heavy robes. Dismissing the elderly servant, he warmed his hands before the fire for several minutes, then walked over to his window. "You know what you wish to see there," he thought, looking down at the gardens longingly. The wind rustled through the trees, and Michah imagined Samael seated on the branch as he had been, days before. He wondered with a slight pang of jealousy if Nathaneel were dining with Tanea; he had seen neither since the audience hours earlier.

Knowing he would not be able to sleep, he slipped on a pair of shoes and opened the door to his chambers. The two guards Nathaneel had posted there stood at attention, but he ignored them, walking down the hallway to the stairs which led to the garden. "Your majesty," one of them protested. He waved his hand indifferently and said only, "I do not need an escort to walk in the gardens," to which the guards looked at each other, but said nothing. Who were they to argue with the King?

The gardens were deserted. The evening was surprisingly warm; a hint of summer in early spring. Here and there, flowers bloomed, scenting the gardens. The grass was soft and green, and Michah kicked off his shoes and walked barefoot to the place where he had seen Samael before, a spot visible only from his own window. There, he sat down on the grass, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the flowers. He closed his eyes, regretting more than ever his decision to push the Shedim away.

"May I join you?"

Michah opened his eyes, startled to see Nathaneel sitting in front of him, cross-legged. "No, not Nathaneel," he realized. Even in the darkness, he could see the silver eyes.

"What do you want, Samael?" he responded, feeling his shoulders tense. His body seemed to vibrate with lust, just being in the Shedim's presence.

"That is precisely what I intended to ask you, Michah," replied the Shedim.

"I have no strength for games tonight," Michah replied with a deep breath. "And no will to resist you," he thought.

"The only one playing games, Michah, is you." Michah scowled. "I have always been honest. Can you still not admit that you desire me?"

"And what good will that do?"

"That remains to be seen," Samael answered. The wind blew gently, and he brushed an errant strand of hair from his eyes. Michah felt his body's response and was relieved it was hidden beneath his loose tunic.

"I desire you. Are you pleased to hear it?" There was disdain in Michah's voice.

Samael laughed. "The truth, for once!"

"The truth..." mused Michah, his voice bitter. Except that he deserved no credit for honesty. He had betrayed, and continued to betray, his best friend.

"He is honorable to a fault, the other," Samael said, guessing at Michah's thoughts. "He fears for you, for your soul."

"My soul is hardly at risk," Michah countered, meeting Samael's silver eyes with contempt.

"So you say," Samael replied. "And yet you deny the pain that has taken hold there. You run from your painful memories. You deny yourself that which you desire above all, and punish yourself for what I offer you."

Michah's expression hardened. "Of course he would know what happened in that place," he thought bitterly. "He and Nathaneel were both there."

"Let me help you to forget, Michah," Samael whispered, moving so that he now kneeled behind the young king, his lips poised so close to Michah's ear that Michah could feel the Shedim's breath on his skin. "Let me show you the pleasures which you crave." He licked the delicate skin of Michah's neck, drawing a long sigh from the other man. "I know the others you take to your bed leave you cold," he intoned.

Michah stood up and walked a few steps away, looking back at the castle. "If you don't leave now…" he scolded himself. He did not hear Samael move, but the next moment the Shedim was behind him, pulling back Michah's hair and brushing his lips over Michah's neck again. Michah gasped, closing his eyes at the gossamer touch.

"I can heal your soul, if you will let me," whispered Samael, resting his fingers lightly on Michah's right temple. "I can make you forget…"

"No!" Michah cried, turning to grab Samael roughly by the neck. Samael pursed his lips, a hint of a grin playing on his face. "I will not have you force me!"

"You want to hit me, don't you?" Samael pressed. "You wish I would just disappear, so that you could continue to live a lie, don't you? But it's not so simple. If I disappear, so will he."

"Demon," growled Michah, still holding Samael. Samael now grinned openly, his face so close to Michah's that Michah caught the aroma of the Shedim's intoxicating scent as Samael exhaled.

"What do you want, Michah?" Samael repeated, unfazed.

Michah pulled hard on Samael's shirt and, without another thought, met Samael's lips with his own. The taste was enticing, primal. He felt his own arousal and knew he had no more strength to resist. His tongue sought Samael's, his arms wound around Samael's lean waist, and he heard himself moan with desire. "I will take you on my own terms," he thought, determined not to cede his soul to the Shedim. He pushed Samael against the tree, pinning him there. Samael did not resist.

Michah unbuttoned Samael's shirt, pulling it off and running his hands over the hard muscle of Samael's chest. The skin felt warm, almost electric to his touch. He found Samael's nipples with his fingers, pinching and twisting until the Shedim growled in response. Then, without hesitation, he unbuttoned Samael's trousers and pulled them down. The demon's hard response made Michah dizzy, drunk with lust.

"Turn around," he ordered.

"Gladly," Samael whispered, catching Michah's eye so that Michah would see his own hunger there. Samael's lips parted as he turned.

It was the first time Michah had gotten a good look at the Shedim's naked body. He inhaled, catching his breath and running his fingernails over Samael's back. There were strange markings down the other man's spine – wisps of black, red, and brown that looked like fire, radiating from Samael's neck and winding their way down his back, disappearing between the taut muscles of his buttocks. It reminded Michah of the bold markings of a tiger. He had not noticed them before, in the darkness of his study. Now, fascinated, he lingered over the markings, tracing them downwards, then parted Samael's cheeks.

He unbuttoned his own trousers, freeing his desire from the painful confines of the fabric. Without hesitation, he pressed into the tight opening he had revealed before. Samael growled again, the sting of the unprepared entry only serving to intensify his lust. Michah reached around, taking Samael's erection into his hand and squeezing it hard.

"Your anger is charming," Samael said, his voice distorted. Michah imagined the growl of an animal – any thought of Nathaneel's humanity in his mind was now lost to the sensual creature to whom he cleaved. Not wanting to hear any more of Samael's words, Michah took his free hand and covered Samael's mouth with it. Samael only growled once more, licking the palm of Michah's hand. This act was more than Michah could bear, and he felt his desire peak in spite of himself. He shuddered, pulling Samael against his chest.

"You are obstinate," Samael said, looking back at Michah and reveling in his silent victory. "You need this. Why do you deny yourself?"

Michah did not answer. He knew he was lost. There was no returning from the barrier he had allowed himself to cross tonight. This had been no mistake; he had willingly taken Samael, despite his misgivings, despite the knowledge that this was wrong.

******

Later, back in his own chambers, having satisfied himself once more in Samael's arms, Michah ran his fingers over the Shedim's smooth skin. It was the first of many nights Samael would warm his bed.

In the deserted gardens below Michah's window, a lone figure prowled barefoot on the thick grass. In the light of the rising moon, it stretched its long arms and beckoned skyward, its silver eyes aglow, its fingertips reaching towards the stars. A single, plaintive cry rent the silent trees, and the figure disappeared into the shadows, the silence now restored.

Samael started awake at the sound. He reached for Michah, running his hand through the other man's hair and rubbing his thumb over Michah's cheek with an expression of surprising tenderness. He smiled. Then, slipping out of the bed without a sound, he walked over to the window and, with a quick look back at the bed, he jumped into the darkness to follow the call.