Who Rules the King's Heart

Chapter Five

Chapter Five: Maelstrom

"Lurent has arrived," Samael said, lounging naked in front of the fire, "and yet you still refuse to take my advice." Michah rolled over onto his side, the warm fur blanket slipping off of his shoulders so that he, too, lay naked on the hearth rug.

"Is it not my prerogative to take that advice which I deem useful and disregard the rest?" Michah asked, finding the sensitive spot between Samael's ear and shoulder and licking it provocatively.

For nearly a week now, Samael had spent each night in Michah's bed and, with each passing night, Michah had begun to forget both his hesitation and his guilt over their strange relationship. He had come to rely on Samael as an advisor and confidant, finding the other man's opinions incisive and helpful, if a bit unorthodox. Still, Samael's blunt notions of right and wrong troubled Michah. For his part, Samael dismissed Michah's discomfort with moral questions as the mark of a weak ruler; Michah should make his own decisions, and not feel constrained to act with the approval of the Council in all things important to the kingdom.

"A king's folly," Samael remarked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. They had oft argued the point, but Samael would not yet let the subject drop. "Are you so convinced the Council will see it your way?"

"Yes," answered Michah with more confidence than he felt. "While your counterpart has been busying himself with preparations for the Council meeting and the Eventide Ball, I have been busy courting those Council members less likely to see things my way."

"Courting?" laughed Samael, pushing Michah over and straddling him brazenly. Michah laughed. The fire spat angrily as one of the glowing logs broke in two.

"Is that not what a king must do to ensure success?"

"There are simpler ways of succeeding," Samael countered, running a single finger from Michah's waist up his bare chest, and reaching his lips with particular zeal. "A king need not seek approval at every turn."

Michah grabbed Samael's wrist, meeting the Shedim's silver eyes with a blaze of passion. "I will not adopt the ways of a demon," he said, pulling Samael down until their mouths were only an inch or two apart. "The Governor will have his trial."

Samael sighed, then met Michah's lips without further protest. "Fool,"he thought, knowing he could no more make the young king fit into his own mold than he could force the weak human with whom he shared a soul to disappear. "Must I work so hard to keep you safe?"

Michah lay awake later, watching the last of the fire gutter and die. Several feet away, Samael pulled a soft, white tunic over his head. As always, Michah found himself admiring the markings down the Shedim's spine and the hard sinews of muscle that moved beneath the taut skin of the creature's shoulders.

"Shall I return in the evening?" Samael offered, opening up the window to Micah's chambers and looking out at the dark sky beyond.

"I have no doubt that you will do what you wish," replied Michah, unwilling to admit that he hoped for nothing less than another night of counsel and, later, passion.

Samael said nothing, but licked his lips suggestively, raking his eyes over Michah's bare chest. Then, with a quick turn of his head towards the window, the Shedim laughed and jumped out into the night. Michah sighed, his hands behind his head, and allowed the warmth of the fire to lull him back into sleep.

******

Michah walked with measured gait through the main entryway of the castle in full, formal dress. To say that he felt uncomfortable – dressed in long, fur-lined robes, a silver crown upon his head, wearing the ceremonial Sword of Shaeran – was an understatement. The entire week leading up to the formal event had been a seemingly endless progression of tedious social gatherings. The only ray of light in an otherwise exhausting week would come tomorrow, when Governor Lurent would meet his accusers in a special session of Council. At least then, Michah thought, he could get back to the business of governing the kingdom, rather than serving only as its figurehead.

The tall doors to the ballroom were held open by several of Nathaneel's guards dressed in full regalia and holding long spears decorated with silver and green, the colors of the Kingdom of Shaeran. The ballroom was already full of people, and the crowd parted as he reached the doorway. From there, Shura joined him at his right, and Nathaneel on his left. As they walked inside, Michah noticed that Nathaneel had also posted guards at various points throughout the enormous room. Michah still believed both Nathaneel and Samael to be overly concerned for his safety, but he had ceased to press the issue with either.

A young page followed the procession into the ballroom, stopping by the doors and shouting, "Hail King Michah of Shaeran!" This introduction was followed by bows and curtsies all around, until Michah reached the center of the room. There he stopped and, as tradition demanded, he bowed to the appreciative crowd. Those assembled in the ballroom rose as Michah did, and Michah drew his sword and raised it high above his head. The jewel-incrusted hilt caught the light of the chandeliers overhead, sending a shower of multicolored light onto the walls of the room. Closing his eyes, Michah uttered the traditional blessing for Eventide, "May the peace of the heavens protect and defend Shaeran, and may the Kingdom prosper by my hand!"

There was a loud cheer from the crowd, and the orchestra began to play. Nine pairs of dancers, male and female couples, ran inside the hall from the entrance as Michah withdrew to the side of the room. Dressed in lively colors, each pair represented one of the eight provinces, with the addition of the green and silver of Shaeran. They bowed to one another and began a courtship tarantella, an elegant and graceful dance, traditional for spring. The dance was restrained, but the underlying current of sexuality was obvious in the way the dancers reached for each other in long, fluid movements, never touching.

In spite of himself, Michah felt his mind wander to the handsome captain of his guard, who stood nearby in his dress uniform, with his knee-length velvet cape and ceremonial sword. Michah imagined the body beneath the uniform, sticky with sweat and pressed against his own. But in Michah's fantasy, it was not silver eyes, but Nathaneel's deep green orbs that gazed into his own as their bodies moved in unison. As his body responded painfully to the mental picture, Michah willed his thoughts back to the present, shifting on his feet to dispel the image. Finally, the music cadenced, and the dancers paused, bowing and curtsying once more.

Then, beginning with a long cadenza played on a six-stringed violin, the rhythm increased, growing faster and faster. One by one the other instruments joined the frenzied music, and the dancers began to spin about, reaching for each other but never touching. Around they whirled, until their bodies became almost indistinguishable from their partners'. They stamped the ground with their feet and threw their hands skywards, finally touching their partners' hands in a flurry of movement. No more just simple yearning, the dancers' turbulent movements conjured outright the passion of lovemaking and release. Michah thought of the Shedim, and wondered if they, too, danced with such abandon.

The demonstration over, the crowd roared appreciatively. Couples drifted onto the dance floor at the far end of the room, eager to resume their merrymaking, and Michah turned to Shura, who nodded his approval. Michah and Shura were soon surrounded with admirers, including parents – each hoping the King would dance with their daughter. Michah, with the utmost patience and respect, nodded pleasantly to those pressing him and said, "I have already promised the first dance. Perhaps later." He bowed politely, handing his heavy cape to one of the nearby attendants and walking across the room to a sea of curious faces.

He spotted her several yards away, standing by the Governor of Moren and his wife. He greeted the Governor warmly, kissing the Governor's wife's hand, then turned to Tanea and bowed courteously. "May I have the honor of this dance?" he asked, the corners of his mouth turning upwards, his eyes fixed on hers.

"It would be my great pleasure, your highness," Tanea replied, taking Michah's arm and allowing him to lead her towards the dancers.

The orchestra played a familiar waltz and Michah, as he often did at times like these, thanked his father for having forced him to endure training in court etiquette, as well as swordplay. As a child, of course, Michah had only understood the importance of the latter, but now, as he danced comfortably with Tanea under the watchful eyes of the crowd, his appreciation for his schooling was immeasurable.

"You are an excellent dancer, your majesty," Tanea remarked, gliding easily after him.

"I could say the same," he replied. It was the truth; she was graceful and practiced in her movements, and he guessed that she, as the child of a high-ranking official, had also been taught to dance at an early age.

"And yet you do not appear to be enjoying yourself, your majesty," she remarked, her casual words hinting at a deeper meaning.

"Nor do you," he countered, a wry expression on his face. Over his shoulder, he saw Nathaneel watching them, a half-empty wineglass in his hand. "Watching her," he corrected himself silently.

"I prefer other, more private entertainments," she replied, her eyes meeting his with unabashed interest.

"Indeed," he said, swinging her about so that her hair moved in wisps about her face. The implication of her words had been clear and, but for Samael's promise to join him later, Michah would have jumped at the offer. She was both beautiful and intelligent.

She bowed as the music ended, and he expected that she would remain in his company. Instead, she curtsied, then turned to walk away. With a sigh, Michah looked around the room, ignoring the crowd gathering around him once more. Nathaneel was engrossed in conversation with several women, and Shura was discussing something with one of the provincial governors. He felt a delicate hand on his elbow and turned to see Lady Renna at his side.

"I have missed you," she whispered, so only he could hear. "I could be consoled, however, with a dance." The edges of her mouth quirked upwards, and her blue eyes sparkled.

"Of course," he said, noting Shura's approving glance from over her shoulder. He took her hand and led her to the dance floor, her long gown sweeping across the white marble.

"I had hoped you would call on me again," she said, her cheek against his as they moved about to the music.

"I have been quite busy," he replied, his manner a bit stiff. She had done nothing wrong, he knew – if anything, he felt a bit of remorse for having used her as a substitute for Samael.

"I do not doubt it," she said with genuine concern. "You work far too hard, your majesty."

Michah laughed. "You are beginning to sound like Nathaneel, my lady. I only do what I must."

"I am told the Council will consider Lord Lurent's fate tomorrow," she said, as they moved about the floor.

"Yes," Michah replied, noting with some envy that Tanea was now standing beside Nathaneel, and that the two were talking and laughing like old friends. "It is indeed a difficult time for Shaeran."

"All the more reason for you to follow your gallant captain's example, then," she told Michah. "At least he seems to be enjoying the evening." Michah guessed that Renna had seen him dancing with Tanea earlier, and wondered if she were jealous of the other woman.

"I am glad for that," he lied, determined not to react to what appeared to be a budding affection between Nathaneel and Tanea. Silently, however, he cursed Samael, although he knew full well that it was Nathaneel whom he saw grinning at the dark-haired woman.

The music ended, and Michah bowed to Renna. "As always, my lady, it is a pleasure to be in your company."

"And I in yours," she answered. "Do not hesitate to call on me. I am at your disposal."

"You are too kind," he replied, nodding and turning away from the blonde. He headed back over to where Shura and several council members were discussing something animatedly. But as he drew nearer, he saw Nathaneel and Tanea moving across the ballroom, her hand resting on his elbow as they walked out a side doorway.

"Your majesty!" Shura said, motioning Michah over.

"You have no hold over him," Michah reminded himself, glancing back at the exit through which Tanea and Nathaneel had just left and walking over to join Shura. Jealousy niggled at him, but he brushed it aside and, reaching Shura and the others, nodded to acknowledge them.

"Your majesty," Shura said, "you know Councilman Seri and Councilwoman Trian, of course."

"Lady Trian, Lord Seri, I am glad to see you both well," Michah replied, forcing himself to focus once more on what he knew was the important task at hand – convincing the council members of the need to see justice done and to appoint a new provincial governor for Talaska with all due haste.

******

Having reassured himself that Michah was well-guarded in his absence, Nathaneel led Tanea out into the courtyard. The night was warm, and the faint scent of jonquil wafted from the formal gardens beyond. Tanea stopped near the marble fountain, taking her other arm and lacing it through Nathaneel's so that the front of her shoulder rested softly against his chest. He looked at her neck, admiring how her long, dark hair was coiled artfully at the nape.

"Shaeran is beautiful," she remarked, gazing across the gardens to the city beyond. The castle was situated on the highest hill in the city – a strategic advantage, no doubt, but one which also afforded a view of the rooftops and streets below.

"I have always thought so," Nathaneel replied.

"Do you remember much about Moren?" Tanea asked.

"Very little, I'm afraid," he replied, "although I stayed there for a few days after the war." He remembered little of that time, either – it had been after he and Michah had left the Shedim, and he had been concerned with nothing but Michah's safe return to the capital. He had been beside himself with fear for Michah's sanity and paid little attention to his surroundings.

"It is different from Shaeran," she said, lifting her head to breathe in the night air. "Wilder, I suppose. Less... civilized."

"And you prefer it?" he offered with a charming smile.

"You are quite perceptive, Captain," she answered, her back still to him. "I think you might prefer it as well."

The silken wrap she wore over her shoulders dipped downwards on her back, revealing the low-cut back of her dress. There, running down her spine, Nathaneel saw the faint outline of markings which appeared to grow darker with each passing moment. Instinctively, he reached to touch them. She shivered at the touch, and Nathaneel realized, to his own surprise, that he wanted her. She turned and looked into his face. Her eyes were silver.

"What are you?" he whispered, putting his hand to her cheek and running his thumb against her skin.

"You know what I am," she replied, taking his hand from her face and licking it. He gasped, feeling as though he might lose control. "But you deny your own existence. You deny yourself far too much…"

He grabbed her and claimed her lips – the act was impulsive, as if another man was in his own skin, urging him on. She responded with equal passion, and he felt his body warm as if a fire had been lit within. His hunger grew as she pulled her hair loose of its fastenings, allowing it to fall over her shoulders in waves. He grabbed a handful of the dark tresses and pulled, eliciting a groan from her which made him feel dizzy, weak.

"What are you?" he repeated, although he could not hear himself speak the words. It was as if he were falling into a deep pit of lust, the clear sky above too high to reach. His brain felt heavy, his thoughts muddled. "What is happening to me?" He heard a low growl and realized that it had issued from his own lips. He felt her pull off his cloak and run her hands underneath his heavy tunic. The edges of his vision blurred and darkened. He felt himself falling into an abyss of pleasure, then knew no more.

******

Michah managed to slip out of the ballroom an hour later, although it had taken more than a little subterfuge to escape the detail of guards Nathaneel had assigned to protect him. After enduring a dull conversation about grain prices in the far provinces, Michah extricated himself from Shura and the council members by dancing with several eligible women. Michah carefully maneuvered his way farther and farther across the dance floor until he was finally able to make his apologies and slip out of the ballroom unnoticed by Nathaneel's guards.

Guessing at where Nathaneel and Tanea had gone, Michah reached the courtyard a moment later, stopping at the entrance and wondering what he would say if he did, indeed, find Nathaneel there. Undoubtedly, the captain would be angry that Michah had managed to elude his guards. He could live with that ire, he could not live with not knowing what Nathaneel's intentions towards Tanea were.

The courtyard, however, was empty. The fountain, especially lit for the festivities, was the only sound. He strode across the gravel towards the entrance to the gardens. There, lying on the top of a hedge dotted with fragrant white flowers, he saw a filmy shawl – the same shawl that Tanea had been wearing earlier. Without hesitation, he opened the garden gate and walked through. They were here – he was sure of it.

He walked through a small garden planted with herbs and flowers, through another iron gate and into the informal gardens he preferred. He kept to himself amongst the trees, hidden from the guests who strolled the stone footpaths, and finally came upon the secluded portion of the grounds where he and Samael had made passionate love only the night before. He saw no other visitors here, but noticed bits of color on the grass ahead – clothing, he realized, with a slight shock.

"You're a fool," he told himself, knowing he did not want to see what he knew he must see. And so he walked on, feeling the muscles in his abdomen tighten with each step, compelled to continue, knowing well what he would find beyond the secluded grove of flowering cherry trees.

He came upon them an instant later, lying naked on the grass, their bodies joined, the moonlight making the sweat upon their skin glisten like small diamonds. Tanea, on top, threw back her head and growled as her long black hair flew about her. Her back was arched to reveal a series of markings down her spine – markings just like those Michah had seen on Samael and which had fascinated him. His back on the grass, Samael's silver eyes sparkled with lust as he clasped her buttocks roughly, digging long fingernails into the soft flesh there.

For a moment, Michah stood rooted to the spot, not wanting to watch and yet entranced by their rhythmic movements. In that moment, Michah felt jealousy such as he had never felt before. Jealousy and anger, too, for Samael's betrayal. That Michah had shared such passion with others mattered little – it was not a question of culpability, but raw emotion which took hold of Michah's heart and mind. He clenched his fists at his sides and felt his jaw tighten. And still he watched, feeling his own lust grow even as his anger threatened to overwhelm him.

The dull ache in his chest which, in recent days seemed ever present, now intensified. "It was inevitable," he thought, a bitter taste upon his tongue. The jealousy burning in his breast spread throughout his body, leaving him with a sense of dark resignation. Finally, unable to contain himself any longer, and knowing that he had no right to complain, he turned and walked back to the castle. Perhaps he would confront Samael later, but he could not now find it within himself to do so. To confront Samael here would only confirm his weakness for the Shedim and give the creature more power over his heart. Still, he could not bring himself to return to the celebration; he was far too distracted and too exhausted to pretend otherwise.

By the time he reached the private entrance to the wing that housed his rooms, Michah had all but resolved that he would not interfere in Nathaneel's personal life – he had no right. He walked silently up the stairs, the thought of his warm but empty bed appealing, in spite of the jealousy that still simmered within his heart. Reaching the hallway, he paused, rubbing his eyes. He saw a shadow on the wall as he looked up once more and turned, expecting to see one of Nathaneel's guards standing there. Instead, his eyes met those of a man wearing a dark mask over his face. Micah instinctively reached for his sword, but found only the dull, ceremonial blade there. It would have to do.

The masked man pulled a dagger from his belt and lunged at Michah's chest. Michah turned, his soldier's instincts taking over. The blade made contact with the thick velvet of his jacket, slicing the fabric but not reaching his skin. Michah kicked the man, sending him stumbling backwards against the opposing wall and swinging his dull-edged sword at him. The weapon caught the edge of the other man's tunic, pulling it so that the fabric tore. His opponent laughed, realizing that Michah was, for all intents and purposes, unarmed.

Over his shoulder, Michah saw another shadow against the wall. At the same time, his assailant grabbed Micah by the shoulder and aimed his dagger once more at Michah's heart. Using the sword to block the attack, Michah parried. The knife plunged deep into Michah's belly, and he staggered and coughed. The sword fell from his hand with a clatter and, again, his opponent laughed.

The laugh was short-lived. Samael, moving so quickly that Michah could barely make out his features, grabbed the masked man across the shoulders and by the head. Before the man knew what was happening, the Shedim easily snapped his neck, allowing his body to fall unimpeded onto the stone floor.

"You really are quite stubborn, you know," said Samael, shaking his head in exasperation. "And here I had been enjoying my evening." Michah, enraged by the Shedim's condescending attitude, tried to say something in retort, but instead clutched his abdomen in pain. Michah felt strong arms catch him as he collapsed.